Chapter Four

Larysa’s POV

At first, I thought Brandon was letting me know he knew who I really was, and I felt my heart lurch in my chest.

But he was smiling at me in an open and friendly way, and I soon realized there was no hidden agenda behind his comment. He genuinely thought it was a coincidence.

He didn’t make the connection. Again. I didn’t know what to reply to his observation, so I said nothing.

He gave a short, ironic laugh. “But of course there’s no other similarity — I mean, my ex-wife is not a big time lawyer like you!”

I wanted to laugh, to scream, to tell him he had no idea who his wife even was. And yet here he was, making casual comparisons as if he’d studied her.

After all, he had never met his ‘ex-wife’ — me — so how could he think we were two different personalities?

When we arrived at the Municipal Detention Center, Brandon checked us through. Once the formalities had been done, a female warden led us to a meeting room.

It was stark and gray, with nothing but steel furniture and a bare, overhead strip lighting fixture.

We each took a chair and I placed my briefcase on the metal table. The warden left, and closed the door behind her with a hollow clang.

I looked at Brandon and his P.A. Alicia had a rather grim expression, to match the somber atmosphere but Brandon had a look of anticipation on his face.

Was he eager to see Elena Coleman? My curiosity was mounting.

After a short wait which seemed like ages, the door opened and two women entered.

One was a prison warden and the other was an attractive young woman in drab, green prison garb. Elena, I presumed.

Elena took a seat. She looked over her three visitors, her gaze halting when she came to me.

She had long, wavy, blonde hair, a pert nose and large brown eyes with heavy lashes outlining them. There was a subtle sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks.

“Elena,” said Brandon.

She looked his way and pouted. “Why don’t you come to see me? You leave me stuck here and don’t visit!”

“Ah, s-sorry Elena. It’s business, you know, I can’t always get away. I try but there’s never enough hours in the day.”

“Well, it’s just horrible here! There’s no privacy, and they took my cell phone away. I hate their stupid routines; when to wake up, when to eat, when to take a shower! And I’m stuck with this awful, whining cow of a cell-mate.”

“It won’t be for long,” Brandon said, kindly. Elena wouldn’t even look at me. She ignored me as she kept talking to Brandon, and I could tell they were obviously close. 

As she kept prattling on, she threw sneaky glances in my direction while deliberately not including me in the conversation.

Brandon managed to interrupt her chatter and said, “Elena, I’ve brought a top lawyer with us today. I’ve asked her to work on your case. This is Larysa Harris from one of the city’s best law firms.”

Elena grudgingly looked my way with a doubting scowl.

“You hired a woman to defend me?” she demanded. “This beauty queen probably hasn’t got a brain in her head! Do you expect she’ll get me off with a bikini parade and a big, toothy smile?”

I was genuinely surprised at her condescending attitude. And I felt insulted.

The words hit like a slap — degrading, unexpected, and laced with venom.

I’d dealt with my fair share of sexism in the courtroom, but somehow, it stung more coming from another woman.

I directed my response to Brandon in cold, clipped tones. “Mr Trainer, I won’t feel comfortable defending someone with an attitude like that toward professional women. She won’t trust my competence, and she hasn’t earned my respect.”

I stood, gathering my briefcase, and moved towards the door. 

“Wait a moment, Larysa!” said Brandon, hastily. “Elena, that’s no way to treat a respected attorney who could quite possibly be the only person capable of getting you off the charges. I expect you should apologize to Ms Harris, and hope that she will consider your case.”

Elena said, “No, Brandon! Look, you’re just going through a divorce right now and that makes you the city’s most eligible bachelor. Every woman you meet will try to get close to you and win you over. They’re all just gold-diggers! Don’t you see?”

Brandon blinked. He was genuinely taken aback.

“You don’t want to meet another woman like your ex-wife, do you?” Elena stated.

Intrigued, I couldn’t keep myself from asking Brandon, “What's the story between you and your wife?”

He looked at me. “She was just some uneducated woman from a working-class background. She’s after my money, now; some big settlement from the divorce. I guess that’s what Elena’s getting at, she doesn’t want me to fall for another gold-digger.”

I stared at him. My ears rang. He was talking about me — as if I wasn’t even in the room!

“Including your attorney?”

“Of course not,” he countered.

I was furious. Is that what he thought of his former wife — me!

“Perhaps your ex-wife is like that, but it seems to me that you and Elena are very close and have been for some time. So, does that mean you were cheating on your wife before the divorce proceedings commenced? You have a harsh attitude toward your former wife, but so often both parties are at fault in these matters, wouldn’t you say?”

Before he could reply, I said, “Now, you have insulted her and that makes me wonder if you are a solid, trustworthy client.”

I couldn’t breathe. I needed space — before I said something I couldn’t take back.

Without another word, I pressed the button at the door to buzz the warden, who promptly opened it and let me leave.

I heard hurried footsteps catching up with me but I didn’t look back. Brandon soon pulled alongside me as I walked down the depressing gray corridor.

“Wait, Larysa! I apologize if I’ve insulted you but I don’t understand why you’re so angry.”