Chương 10
"He doesn't."
"That's what this sounds like."
Naomi was silent for a moment.
When she spoke again, her tone softened only slightly.
"Mrs. Albright, you don't know me, so let me save us some time."
"Please."
"I don't care whether your husband likes you, fears you, humiliates you, or believes you should disappear."
Richard slowly sat down.
Naomi continued.
"I care what a judge sees tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"Emergency hearings can move fast when a child is involved."
My stomach tightened.
"Will there be one?"
"Possibly."
"And if there is?"
"Then I want a mother who removed her child from a dangerous situation, obtained medical care, cooperated with law enforcement, found stable housing, and behaved predictably."
"Predictably."
"Yes."
"Predictable women don't attend galas?"
"Predictable litigants don't walk into environments designed for alcohol, cameras, conflict, and rich people with bad impulse control."
I almost laughed.
"That's specific."
"I've been practicing family law for twenty-one years."
Richard mouthed, Listen to her.
I turned away.
Naomi went on.
"If you have a legitimate reason to attend, tell me."
"I want to know what Spencer is announcing."
"Why?"
"Because there may be financial misconduct connected to it."
"Are you investigating that misconduct?"
"No."
"Are you an officer of his company?"
"No."
"Are you on the board?"
"No."
"Then let the people who are investigate it."
I hated how sensible she sounded.
"What if he lies publicly?"
"He probably will."
"What if those lies affect me?"
"Then we answer them later."
"What if they affect Hazel?"
Naomi paused.
"That changes things."
I leaned against the kitchen counter.
"His assistant sent me a note in Spencer's handwriting."
"Don't describe it in detail over the phone."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't know who obtained it lawfully."
Thomas had said almost the same thing.
I rubbed my forehead.
"Fine."
"What matters for tonight?"
"The note mentions using family leverage if Crawford blocks funding."
Silence.
"Family meaning you?"
"I assume."
"Don't assume."
"Then Hazel."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"When did he file for emergency custody?"
"Forty-three minutes after we left."
"And when was the forty-million-dollar request?"
"Before I learned about the filing."
"Do you have timestamps?"
"Yes."
"I want them."
"I can send them."
"No."
She stopped herself.
"Actually, send me only the docket information and the messages from Mr. Albright for now."
"What about Evan's photographs?"
"Preserve them untouched."
"Okay."
I glanced at Richard.
He nodded reluctantly.
Naomi exhaled.
"Now tell me why the gala matters enough that you're still arguing with me."
I looked through the glass doors at the darkening pool.
Because I was tired of being sent upstairs.
Because Spencer had spent years entering rooms that supposedly had nothing to do with me, then returning with decisions about my money, my child, my life.
Because every instinct I had told me the phrase family leverage was not theoretical.
"Spencer called and said he needs me there to present stability."
Naomi became quiet.
"Exact words?"
"Essentially."
"I need exact."
I repeated the conversation as closely as I could.
When I finished, she said, "That helps."
"How?"
"It suggests your absence matters to whatever narrative he plans to present."
"So I should go."
"I didn't say that."
"Then what are you saying?"
"I'm saying we stop thinking of attendance as emotional and start thinking of it as evidentiary."
I straightened.
Richard did too.
Naomi continued.
"If you attend, you do not confront him privately."
"Fine."
"You do not drink."
"I wasn't planning to."
"You do not discuss custody with guests."
"Obviously."
"Nothing is obvious."
"Fair."
"You do not accuse anyone of fraud."
I hesitated.
"Gwen."
"Fine."
"You leave immediately if there is any threat, intimidation, or attempt to isolate you."
"Okay."
"And I come with you."
That surprised me.
"To the gala?"
"Yes."
"Do you own a gown?"
She laughed once.
"Mrs. Albright, I litigate divorces in Beverly Hills."
"Right."
Richard was staring at me.
I covered the phone.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"That's not your nothing face."
"It's my face."
I returned to Naomi.
"Can you get in?"
"Can you?"
"Spencer said I was expected."
"Then my presence will be explained as counsel."
"Won't that make things look worse?"
"To whom?"
That was a good question.
"The guests."
"Your husband filed for emergency custody less than three hours ago."
Her voice sharpened.
"Stop managing the comfort of people who aren't responsible for your daughter."
I looked toward Hazel's door.
"All right."
"Send me the invitation details."
"And wear something boring."
I blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"No revenge dress."
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
Richard looked offended on my behalf.
Naomi said, "I'm serious."
"So am I."
"Neutral, appropriate, forgettable."
"You're ruining divorce."
"That's what my invoices are for."
She ended the call after promising to arrive within an hour.
Richard waited until I put down the phone.
"I like her."
"You dislike her."
"I can do both."
That, unfortunately, was one of the family traits.
I went upstairs to the guesthouse bedroom and opened the narrow closet.
Someone had placed three dresses inside.
I stared at them.
Then I called down.
"Dad."
There was a pause below.
It was the first time I had called him that in six years.
He appeared at the bottom of the stairs so quickly that I knew he had heard the difference.
"Yes?"
I pointed into the closet.
"What is this?"
His face became carefully blank.
"Clothing."
"I know what clothing is."
"Then we're making progress."
"You bought dresses."
"I asked Marianne to find options."
"Who is Marianne?"
"My house manager."
"You told your house manager to buy me gala dresses before I decided to attend?"
He shifted his weight.
"Yes."
I stared at him.
"Do you hear yourself?"
"Frequently."
"This is exactly the problem."
"I anticipated a possibility."
"You arranged my choices."
"Three dresses is the opposite of arranging your choices."
I almost threw a shoe at him.
Then I looked at the dresses again.
One was red.
May you like
Absolutely not.
One was black and severe enough to look like I was attending a funeral I had caused.
