My Chaotic Divorce

THE ATTORNEY

I sat at a corner table in the Grand Jester Café, arms folded tightly as I stared at my watch for what felt like the hundredth time. My foot tapped against the floor, my patience wearing thin with every passing second. The café buzzed with the quiet hum of conversation, the air filled with the rich scent of roasted coffee and freshly baked pastries. The warmth of the place should have been comforting, but I was too frustrated to appreciate it. How unprofessional could someone be to show up this late to a meeting this important? My hands clenched into fists in my lap as I took a slow breath, trying—and failing—to calm my irritation.

Finally, I spotted movement from the entrance, and a man in a dark grey blazer strolled toward me with the kind of ease that only came from someone who had never been on the receiving end of real consequences. He carried himself like a man who had all the time in the world, like he was doing *me* a favor by showing up at all. His smirk was subtle, but it was there, a little curve of his lips that made me grind my teeth. “Good afternoon,” he said smoothly as he reached my table. He pulled out a business card from his pocket and placed it in front of me. “I take it you must be my new client.”

I barely spared the card a glance before looking up at him. He sat down across from me and stretched out his hand, completely unfazed by my obvious irritation. “I’m Tate Joseph.” His voice was friendly, casual, as if we were just two people meeting for coffee instead of discussing the biggest legal battle of my life.

I didn’t take his hand. Instead, I leaned back in my seat and narrowed my eyes. “No, you are forty minutes late. Not a good first impression if you ask me.” My voice came out sharp, clipped, exactly the way I wanted it to.

Tate let out an awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck in what I assumed was supposed to be a sheepish gesture. “Yeah… sorry about that. This doesn’t usually happen.” His grin was small, disarming, but I wasn’t in the mood to be charmed.

I let out a harsh sigh and shook my head. “Whatever. Let’s just get this meeting started.” My patience was already hanging by a thread, and if he wasted another second, I was liable to walk out.

He leaned back in his chair, tilting his head slightly as a knowing smirk crossed his face. “My, my, you are as blunt as Hailey said you were.” There was amusement in his tone, like he found this whole thing entertaining.

I scoffed, unimpressed. “Are you here to review my personality, or are you here to offer legal assistance?” My fingers drummed against the tabletop as I waited for him to get serious.

Tate raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fair enough. Let’s focus.” He shifted slightly in his seat, his posture finally straightening, his playful demeanor cooling just a little.

I crossed my arms again. “So, how exactly do you plan on helping me win this case?” The weight of my words sat between us. I needed answers, not small talk.

Tate exhaled and leaned forward slightly. “First things first. The custody trial is still a few days away, so for now, we need to focus on the divorce agreement.”

A dry, humorless laugh slipped from my lips. “I don’t own much, so I doubt I have to worry about that.” What little I did have, Hugh had already taken from me. My home, my peace, my son. What else could they possibly strip from me now?

Tate shook his head. “Hailey already filled me in on the important details. From what she told me, you caught Hugh and Savannah red-handed.”

I frowned, confusion flickering through me. “What do you mean?”

His expression darkened slightly, his smirk fading into something more serious. “Your husband put you through mental and emotional trauma. He didn’t just cheat—he admitted to it. And to make it worse, he took your son without a mutual agreement. That’s not just betrayal, Kathy. That’s leverage.”

He reached into the envelope he had been carrying, pulled out a folded sheet of paper, and placed it on the table between us. The crisp sound of paper against wood made my pulse spike.

I hesitated before reaching for it, my hands trembling slightly as I picked it up. My heart pounded as I scanned the words, my stomach twisting into knots. “When did… how…?” My voice came out barely above a whisper, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing.

Tate leaned forward, a slow, devious smile creeping onto his lips, his voice low and deliberate.

“Are you ready to become an overnight billionaire?”