"Yeah." Jones shrugged. He sat back in his chair and tapped his lips with his pen. "Maybe she was more upset about that threesome with her friend Felix than she let on? I mean, it was her idea in the first place. God, Mariel, what crawled up your ass?"
Felix, maybe? Arthur managed not to say it aloud but was unable to stop the mental image his brain conjured of Al -- Jones -- in a sexual threesome. Arthur's heart may have been secure and his practice choosy, but his gonads were utterly indiscriminate.
He needed to get back to business. Jones was being a font of information, but not the information necessary to get the proceedings back on track. "Ah, Mr. Jones, perhaps the rest of the document will reveal further information we can discuss now, even if it is not a proper-- would you like this note?"
Jones shook his head and crossed his arms. "Nah. Keep it. Toss it. I don't care."
Perhaps Mrs. Jones was not far off about her husband's emotional inaccessibility. Well, it took one to know one. Not for the first time, Arthur was thankful that he'd avoided such entanglements. He peeled the note off and folded it unobtrusively to the side. He flipped the pages. Mrs. Jones did not seem to be requesting a lump sum or spousal maintenance. There were, however, a large number of exhibits regarding property.
"It seems she plans to request a great deal of real estate."
"I just want to do whatever she wants. To get this over with."
Arthur frowned without meaning to. "She claims that she supported you through your MBA and thus she deserves fully half of your property, their earnings and dividends."
"Huh? Really? I mean, she was totally supportive. But it's not like we paid rent, because I owned our building."
Arthur made a note to that effect. What property before marriage? CPA? Bonnefoy? "I must ask-- you have a lot at stake here. Why don't you want to fight this -- any of it?"
He sensed more than saw Jones's shrug. "Well, I still care about her. We were totally in love once. You don't just get over that right away, you know?"
Arthur wondered if Jones had ever told his wife that. "Hmm. I shall never fall in love."
Arthur heard a noise that sounded like "ha." Arthur couldn't believe he'd said it; feeling his cheeks heat, he glanced up to see Jones staring at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Pardon my familiarity," Arthur said.
"Nah. I like it." Jones waved a tanned hand at him. "Not what you said, because that's stupid. But I like knowing what the people I work with are like. What they're thinking. I'm gonna hire you."
"Well, I must first decide if I'm going to take your case, Mr. Jones," Arthur said. He had some pride, dammit, even when faced with a handsome and admittedly fascinating puzzle. A puzzle who sounded like a college boy with a gaping chasm of a clueless streak. How had Jones possibly amassed such a fortune? "Any one of my associates could handle a case where the client wishes to roll over. I prefer a client who will trust me to protect his or her interests."
Jones smiled again, a dangerous thing for Arthur's innards. "Haha! I like the idea of you protecting my interests, Arthur."
"Hmm," Arthur said. Americans! And their propensity for casual use of first names. "Is your wife currently employed?"
Al -- Jones, dammit-- nodded. "Yeah. She directs operations at three of my properties. Mary's at Lincoln Park, Americana on Grant, and Evolve. On--"
"Rush Street," Arthur supplied.
Jones's eyes brightened. "Yeah! Have you been there?"
"No, I'm sorry," Arthur said. He'd merely recognized the names of all the establishments, even if he hadn't patronized them. The first two were bar/restaurants, and the last was an LGBT-oriented downtown nightclub.
"Oh. Because – well, never mind, I guess. Okay. It's a really cool place."
All Right, Tonight (Part 6/?)
Felix, maybe? Arthur managed not to say it aloud but was unable to stop the mental image his brain conjured of Al -- Jones -- in a sexual threesome. Arthur's heart may have been secure and his practice choosy, but his gonads were utterly indiscriminate.
He needed to get back to business. Jones was being a font of information, but not the information necessary to get the proceedings back on track. "Ah, Mr. Jones, perhaps the rest of the document will reveal further information we can discuss now, even if it is not a proper-- would you like this note?"
Jones shook his head and crossed his arms. "Nah. Keep it. Toss it. I don't care."
Perhaps Mrs. Jones was not far off about her husband's emotional inaccessibility. Well, it took one to know one. Not for the first time, Arthur was thankful that he'd avoided such entanglements. He peeled the note off and folded it unobtrusively to the side. He flipped the pages. Mrs. Jones did not seem to be requesting a lump sum or spousal maintenance. There were, however, a large number of exhibits regarding property.
"It seems she plans to request a great deal of real estate."
"I just want to do whatever she wants. To get this over with."
Arthur frowned without meaning to. "She claims that she supported you through your MBA and thus she deserves fully half of your property, their earnings and dividends."
"Huh? Really? I mean, she was totally supportive. But it's not like we paid rent, because I owned our building."
Arthur made a note to that effect. What property before marriage? CPA? Bonnefoy? "I must ask-- you have a lot at stake here. Why don't you want to fight this -- any of it?"
He sensed more than saw Jones's shrug. "Well, I still care about her. We were totally in love once. You don't just get over that right away, you know?"
Arthur wondered if Jones had ever told his wife that. "Hmm. I shall never fall in love."
Arthur heard a noise that sounded like "ha." Arthur couldn't believe he'd said it; feeling his cheeks heat, he glanced up to see Jones staring at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Pardon my familiarity," Arthur said.
"Nah. I like it." Jones waved a tanned hand at him. "Not what you said, because that's stupid. But I like knowing what the people I work with are like. What they're thinking. I'm gonna hire you."
"Well, I must first decide if I'm going to take your case, Mr. Jones," Arthur said. He had some pride, dammit, even when faced with a handsome and admittedly fascinating puzzle. A puzzle who sounded like a college boy with a gaping chasm of a clueless streak. How had Jones possibly amassed such a fortune? "Any one of my associates could handle a case where the client wishes to roll over. I prefer a client who will trust me to protect his or her interests."
Jones smiled again, a dangerous thing for Arthur's innards. "Haha! I like the idea of you protecting my interests, Arthur."
"Hmm," Arthur said. Americans! And their propensity for casual use of first names. "Is your wife currently employed?"
Al -- Jones, dammit-- nodded. "Yeah. She directs operations at three of my properties. Mary's at Lincoln Park, Americana on Grant, and Evolve. On--"
"Rush Street," Arthur supplied.
Jones's eyes brightened. "Yeah! Have you been there?"
"No, I'm sorry," Arthur said. He'd merely recognized the names of all the establishments, even if he hadn't patronized them. The first two were bar/restaurants, and the last was an LGBT-oriented downtown nightclub.
"Oh. Because – well, never mind, I guess. Okay. It's a really cool place."