Cold Feet
Chapter 12

RICK

I can't stop thinking about her. Seeing her this morning as I was leaving George's house was the last thing I expected. She is beautiful. More than beautiful. She has a certain something about her that attracts me. I don't know what it is but I've never felt it before.

I remember the time we spent together the night before. I would give anything to have another opportunity to spend time alone with her like that. If only we had more time before we were interrupted. Things might have been different. We could still have spoken more civilly if only the groom hadn't been caught with his... well, if he hadn't been so stupid.

Talking about offering legal services was the wrong thing to do, and giving Trish's parents my business card was just plain foolish. I now realize that it made me look exactly like the person she thought I am. And as far as meeting her this morning went?

I am sure she thinks I was there to talk about Trish divorcing Eric. Well, I was, but they also want me to sue Viola.

I'm not happy about it at all and now I regret giving my card to the Bentons.

I mean I do want to see her again but not to subpoena her. Besides, if I am the attorney of the client that's suing her, I'm not allowed anywhere near her and once it's over, she'll never let me near her anyway. She probably doesn't want me near her now anyway but a man can try. I have no-one to blame except myself. In my mind, I hear the nails being knocked into the coffin of what I hoped would be an amazing relationship as I ring the bell on the door of her house and wait for an answer.

She opens the door. She opens her mouth and then closes it. I think she must have a million thoughts running through her mind just then and none of them are saying, "Hello".

I make the first comment.

"Twice in one day. That's a record, even for me."

"What do you want?" she asks coldly.

"To come in if I may?"

She looks at me a few moments longer and bites her lower lip. She's weighing up a snarky response against simply letting me in. She can't resist the comeback.

"You came close last night but it's never going to happen now. You're also not getting any more of my underwear."

I can't fight the hint of the smile that pulls at the corner of my mouth before I manage to force it away.

"Please?" I ask not rising to the bait.

"Please what? Can you come in or have some more of my underwear?"

I know she's not teasing me. She's turning our moment of intimacy the night before into a blade and trying to cut me with it.

I don't answer but wait for her to calm down and decide to let me in or send me away.

Decency wins at last, and she steps back opening the door wider. "I'm sorry. Please come in."

"Thank you." I look around as she closes the door and leads the way to her living room. My eyes follow her hips as she moves. Her ass is perfect in the white shorts she is wearing and those legs... Her golden brown legs are perfectly contrasted against her white shorts. It's more than the contrast though. They are perfect in every way, not to mention her firm ass too.

I should be embarrassed, ashamed even but I can't help the thoughts running through my mind. I remember how great her ass felt in my hands the night before. I am intoxicated further as I catch her soft, feminine scent as I follow in her wake.

She finally stops and turns in the living room. "Please have a seat," she says coldly. "I was just making coffee. Would you like some?"

"That would be great, thanks," I say trying to smile but feeling like it's the most nervous and awkward thing I have ever done in my life. What the hell is wrong with you? No woman has ever done this to me. "I'll be back in a moment," she says and turns heading for the kitchen which is visible from the living room. I watch her as she goes. She is wearing the same cotton top she wore when I saw her this morning, but she has removed the vest she wore underneath so her white lace bra is visible through it. I feel my desire hardening rapidly and I sit down quickly.

I listen to Viola making coffee in the kitchen. I believe there is a lot that watching people and listening to them can tell you. The sounds she makes are soft, calm. She is a gentle person, at peace with herself and her life. I think so anyway. There's no frustration or rush in the sounds they make. They are simply normal, gentle, slow, and soft sounds of a beautifully calm person.

I look around the room and spot the shelves behind me. They are filled with books. From where I sit, I can see that many of the books are romance books. Figures. She's a wedding planner. I wonder how many ideas she's extracted from those books and turned into part of someone's wedding experience. She really is a professional. It's a shame that I'm going to have to be the one to tear her world apart.

She returns from the kitchen carrying a tray with two cups and a plate of biscuits. I have to hand it to her, even in the face of adversity she stays calm and treats the enemy decently. Perhaps it's because she doesn't know how much of an enemy I am right now.

She sets the tray down and her blouse falls forward giving me a good view of her lace bra inside it. I feel like a pervert but I can't help myself. I wonder if I should turn this case down and pursue her instead. I'm guessing she'll never talk to me again after what I'm going to do and that's not what I want. But then nothing is ever long-term with me. I don't do commitment. It's why I'm so good at divorce. I don't get emotionally involved. Well, perhaps I do, but not for the sake of seeing marriages saved. I'm more emotional about seeing them dissolved.

Viola finishes setting the tray down and looks up at me. My gaze is fixed on the opening of her blouse and her bra revealed inside it as my train of thought has drifted far away.

Viola realizes where my gaze is and her hand quickly flies to her blouse pressing it against her chest as she blushes. She must be really embarrassed for me to see the red glow in her golden brown cheeks. I realize that I have been caught and my face reddens in embarrassment.

She hesitates briefly before sitting down opposite me and crossing her fine, perfect legs. I try to keep my gaze off them as she crosses them. I fail dismally and she rubs her legs as women sometimes do absentmindedly. I wonder if she is doing it absentmindedly or on purpose. Either way, it drives me wild.

"How can I help you?" she asks coldly and then suggests some answers before I can reply, "Come to gloat? To say I told you so?"

"I... um..." Dammit! I'm at a loss for words. I'm never at a loss for words. "I saw our mutual client George this morning," I say recovering as quickly as I can.

"I am aware of that," she replies with the slightest hint of a smile at the corners of her beautiful mouth. She seems to have realized that I am replaceing this difficult and she seems to be enjoying it.

"I did not want to come here today to bring you this news but I had to," I say.

"What, that you're handling the divorce for Trish? I thought they would just have had the marriage annulled?"

I shake my head. "No. George feels betrayed, his daughter's been hurt and he wants blood."

Viola nods, "I understand. I don't blame him. What I don't understand is what it has to do with me."

I shift uncomfortably. "Well, the thing is that he doesn't just want Eric's blood for hurting his daughter..."

Viola says nothing looking at me expectantly. I realize then that she knows. Of course. She saw George after I did. He must have told her.

"He wants my blood too," she remarks in a tone that suggests it's the most obvious thing in the world. Her eyes narrow briefly and she casts a glance out the window to the garden. Her face is set grimly when she looks back at me. "He wants you to sue me?"

I nod.

"And?"

"He wants the maximum damages he can get."

"So, what are you waiting for? What better way to make an example of the joke his daughter's marriage is by tearing a wedding planner's business down along with the wedding that blew up in her and everyone's face?"

"I did not suggest that they should sue you. I went there because I thought they only wanted to hire me for the divorce." Viola shrugs. "If not you, it would be someone else anyway. This will give you the vindication you need for your beliefs." "Look, I didn't want to do this at your expense," I reply.

"But you've been asked to and you will, because it's what you do." Viola sits forward and places her chin on her hand. Her eyes are narrowed again and she smiles cynically. "Look on the bright side." "What's that?" I ask. I don't see how there is any bright side to this at all. Not for her at least.

"At least you get to fuck me after all. Whether I want it or enjoy it doesn't matter."

I shake my head in disappointment. "You should do something about your language," I say.

"It's how I talk when I'm having sex," she replies calmly, her gaze ice-cold wanting me to know I'll never get the chance to be with her now.

"I'm sorry," I say.

"Really? It doesn't matter Rick. You see, this is at my expense. Let me fill you in on what's happened since that reporter aired the news about the wedding and took an ax to wedding planners everywhere..."

I say nothing but hold her gaze thinking how beautiful her eyes are and watching her soft lips moving as she talks. I'm losing concentration again and force myself to listen.

"...I've had client after client call and cancel. Do you know that I operate on the basis of no refund once the deposit has been paid? Do you know what I've been doing all morning?"

I don't answer but shake my head.

"I've been refunding deposits. Every. Single. One. My calendar is open from today to two months from now and it's opening up more and more as every minute passes. You have never seen a wedding planner that's been more available than me."

I swallow guiltily.

"But hey, it's not your fault. Do you know why I went to see George this morning?"

"No, but I guess you're about to tell me."

She ignores my sarcasm and continues, "I went to give him his money back. All of it. Every dime. I've paid the suppliers from my pocket and I will charge him for nothing."

"Did he take it?"

"You're here aren't you? Do you think he took it?" she asks her tone making it clear she expects me to know the answer. I can see the anger flare in her eyes.

She gets up and crosses to her handbag that is sitting on the floor beside the dining table. She picks it up and removes an envelope from it. She returns and sits down again. She sets the envelope on the table and pushes it towards me.

"What's that?" I ask.

"It's George's check. I would like to ask you to take it and offer it to him again."

I smile. She seems so cute with her request.

"You think it's funny?" she asks.

I shake my head. "No. It's just that I don't work for you."

"I'm aware of that Rick, but here's the truth. I may be offering to refund his money but there were still costs that had to be paid. I paid for them so I'm already running at a loss from Trish's wedding. I can't do more than that. I have very little funds left after seeing my entire pipeline of business wiped out for the next two months. The cancellations are still coming and there really aren't that many clients left. I'm facing bankruptcy so I suggest that you take this check back to your client and ask him to accept it as settlement of the pain Trish has suffered because of me because if he doesn't accept it now, it's not going to bankable pretty soon."

I pull the envelope towards me and take out the check. I am shocked to see the amount on it. I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

"What?" she asks.

"That's a lot of money. How much is your share?"

"Half," Viola replies.

"Half?" I ask in disbelief and then repeat it. "Half?"

"You seem to have a problem with that," Viola says matter of factly.

"That's a lot for your share," I say.

Her eyes narrow and she moves to the edge of her seat. "And who are you to judge what's a lot? What's your markup?"

"I didn't mean that you charge too much..."

"... How much?" she interrupts insistently.

"Half," I say sheepishly.

"And yet you think I charge too much?" she asks in disbelief. Then she holds up her hand. "Oh wait. Of course it's too much. Because I deal in making people happy. I work on making the happiest day of a couple's life, their happiest day ever while you work to make it a regrettable memory."

"Look, I'm sorry. I never meant to belittle you or what you do..." I say.

"No. You just think that everyone else is beneath you. You went to university for how many years but there's no degree for wedding planners. Why should I make good money when I never slaved away at a degree as you have? In case you haven't heard, the service industry commonly generates margins of fifty percent. You provide a service and I provide a service. Besides, I am offering your client all his money back so what do you care? That's where your interest ends."

"Does it?" I feel my anger rising now. "I don't have to accept the full refund and take it back as an offer. I can sue you for more which is exactly what George wants."

"How much do you want? Do you want the house? My car? My underwear? I'm pretty sure you'd like that. Oh wait, you're not suing me, your client is. Maybe you can get your client to sue me for my underwea anyway and then he can pay you with it!"

"What the hell has your underwear got to do with this?"

"Do you think I didn't catch you enjoying the view down my blouse earlier? As I recall you still have my panties which by the way, I was able to afford because of what I charge my clients. You didn't worry about how much they cost when you took them."

I blush. She really is feisty, I think to myself. She holds nothing back when she's angry. I shake my head.

"I'm sorry," I say reining in my anger.

"Very professional don't you agree?"

I don't answer and my silence seems to take the wind from her sails. She sighs and looks out of the windows to the garden again.

"You're not the only one who's given notice of intention to sue so I suggest if you want anything for your client, that you take that settlement check. I'm guessing by the time this is all over the lawyers will be picking over what's left of my assets. I'm filing for bankruptcy and closing shop."

And there it is. The harsh reality of what people in my line of business do. "What do you mean other people intend to sue you?"

She smiles wistfully and finally looks back at me as she works hard to blink back tears. She swallows a few times before she finally trusts herself to speak.

"I would have thought you could figure that one out. The couples who used me as their wedding planner and who have since gotten divorced. They're suing. Many of them."

"How? Why?"

"Because they claim I had my wedding whisperer intervene when they got cold feet and thus pushed them to go ahead with a wedding they would otherwise not have had. They're suing for emotional trauma and heaven only knows what other bullshit claims they want to lodge. They will win and there is no way I can ever pay the claims that will be filed against me. So much for trying to do good for others. When this is all over, I'll never work as a wedding planner again."

I'm speechless. I never stopped to think that there might be other people that wanted to sue Viola.

"I'm sorry," I say.

"Thanks, but I can't bank sympathy," she says looking out the window. "Do you want the check or not?"

"Can you give me a few minutes? Let me call George."

She nods as she continues to look out the window. I stand and cross to the sliding door that leads to the garden. I step outside and dial George's number on my phone. He answers quickly and I explain the situation to him. After some consideration, George accepts the refund as settlement. After he hears that Viola's business and reputation are finished, he seems satisfied.

I go back inside and tell Viola that George has agreed to accept the refund. I remove a standard letter of settlement from my briefcase, fill in the details by hand and have Viola sign the agreement.

She signs it and makes sure I have the check.

"Thanks," I say.

"Thank you," she replies.

I hesitate and then venture to offer her a suggestion. "You can fight this, all the other lawsuits."

"And I suppose you want me to appoint you as my lawyer?"

I shake my head. "I'm not thinking of that. I'm just saying you can fight this. You can't settle everyone's claims."

"I don't intend to. I'm filing for bankruptcy."

"But you're not..."

"... Not insolvent?" She asks and laughs cynically. "For a lawyer, you make too many assumptions. I guess now that you know what my fee for Trish's wedding was, you reckon I must be rolling in money. This house is mortgaged to the hilt. I owe money on my car. I have thousands of dollars in medical bills I need to pay. My business has just dried up in less than twenty-four hours and you reckon I'm not insolvent? Well, I've been insolvent for a long time. I just never made it official but now I will."

"Wait, are you sick?" I ask confused.

"Do I look sick?" she asks sarcastically.

"No, no, you said you have thousands of dollars in medical bills to pay..."

"L

my mother's care before she died."

"I'm sorry," I say again. "I had no idea."

"I didn't expect you to," she says looking me in the eyes. There is sadness there, and pain, but most of all there is an icy coldness to her gaze. I think that she is blocking her emotions as much as she can.

I nod. Then I put the settlement letter and check in my briefcase and stand. "Thank you. I'm sorry. I think I should be going."

She says nothing but stands and walks to the door ahead of me. Again, I have the opportunity to enjoy the sway of her hips and the sight of her long legs but somehow it doesn't have the same effect on me as

when I arrived.

She opens the door and I step out.

"Thank you," I say again. She does not reply and I hear the door close behind me as I walk to my car.000