Page 17 of Take What Hurts

Once she had collected herself and come to terms with the crushing blow to the prospects for this file, she dialed Anna’s phone number. When Anna answered on the third ring, Mackenzie took a deep breath. “Anna, we have a problem.”

Anna laughed down the phone. “She rejected the offer? Surprise, surprise.”

Mackenzie frowned. “No. Well, yes. But a different problem. Two, actually.”

“Oh?”

Mackenzie could see her. Manicured eyebrows raised, reclined in her chair, legs crossed, and absolutely not giving two shits about whatever problem Mackenzie had identified. Like it didn’t matter. And to Anna it probably didn’t, because it was clear to Mackenzie that Anna didn’t think there was a single problem that couldn’t be fixed with blatant manipulation and assistance from her legal team. Well, Mackenzie was going to fucking make her give a shit about this.

Because the messages were bad. Bad for her, bad for her client, and bad for lesbians everywhere. The financial manipulation was equally bad. And, though Mackenzie tried, as a general rule, not to bring her personal feelings about a situation into it, the text messages made her gut clench because their tone—even their content—wasn’t unfamiliar to her. The casual undermining that made a person feel small. The laughter at ideas expressed by a person to their partner. To the person who was supposed to love them—the real, unfiltered, messy them—and make safe their every thought and feeling. She knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of that, and years of therapy hadn’t fixed things completely.

“Unfortunately, the lawyer on the other side⁠—”

Anna cut her off with a laugh. “Oh, you mean that baby butch who couldn’t even remember her own fucking name? Yes, go on and tell me all about these problems.” She positively cackled.

At the mention of Elliott, Mackenzie swallowed the incandescent rage that had erupted in her throat. She took a hard breath in around it, nostrils flaring, and gathered herself before managing, with effort, to restart, ignoring Anna’s interruption. “Unfortunately, the lawyer on the other side had a brainwave earlier today and has copies of every text message you and Matilda have ever exchanged.”

Anna scoffed. Scoffed. “And?”

“I’m struggling to see why the problem isn’t immediately apparent to you.” Mackenzie knew it was dry, bordering on rude, but frankly she couldn’t bring herself to give a fuck. With these new developments, the case would become a war of attrition, and Mackenzie was settling in for the long haul. Part of that was demonstrating to Anna that her experience with Mackenzie wouldn’t be in any way, shape, or form similar to her experience with her colleagues.

“They’re text messages between wives. Who cares what they say?” Anna said it with such confidence that Mackenzie, a lawyer—a really good fucking lawyer—almost believed it.

“Can I ask why you would think text messages between you and your ex-wife aren’t relevant to your divorce?”

Anna laughed. “Well, you’re the lawyer, so I shouldn’t have to tell you, but I will, because I don’t want you to fuck this up. Washington State doesn’t consider shit like that in the division of property. The last lawyer who I dealt with in your office said so.”

Mackenzie squeezed her eyes closed and exhaled away from the receiver. By shit like that, Mackenzie assumed Anna was referring to the vitriolic disgrace that was the messages she had sent to her ex-wife throughout their relationship. “Did my colleague mention the effect shit like that has on alimony payments to the affected spouse?”

Silence. Bone deep, impenetrable silence. Until: “What?”

Anna said it so softly that Mackenzie thought she’d imagined it. It wasn’t a good softness, though. It held danger in a single syllable. Promised anger. Insinuated violence. Mackenzie felt the weight of the word like the bending of the bough of a tree in a wind that preceded a hurricane.

“Yes.” Mackenzie stared unfocused at a spot on her desk below her. “Considering Matilda hasn’t worked since the two of you separated for what I assume is a valid reason, I think there is a real risk⁠—”

“She won’t use them.” Again, said with such conviction that, had Mackenzie not just had a conversation with Elliott about the fact that they categorically would use them, she would have been reassured by Anna.

Mackenzie held back a growl. “Regrettably, they intend to. They intend to file and use the messages as evidence in, presumably, a claim for alimony, if we don’t put an offer forward that is equitable.”

More silence.

And then:

“That fucking cunt. Five years of my life I gave that fucking bitch. Five years of listening to her drivel and moan about whatever the fuck problem she had that week. Five years of supporting her dream of being a professional musician and going to those fucking performances that bored me to tears, and listening to the idiots at them go on and on and on about how wonderful she was. The shit I did for her. I made sure nobody stood in her way and that if anyone tried, they never did again. I fucking warned her. I fucking told her if she did this, I’d make her life a living fucking⁠—”

“Stop. Right now!” Mackenzie snapped. And Anna did stop, on a gasp. Mackenzie waved at her assistant, who rushed into the room, and Mackenzie set the phone to speaker. She wanted a witness, and also, because the tirade had shuddered down Mackenzie’s spine and settled uncomfortably at its base, like a disease, she didn’t want to weather it alone. “If you say one more word, your relationship with this firm is over.”

“You can’t⁠—”

“I can. And if you make threats against the other side, I will have no choice but to terminate our retainer and ensure steps are taken to prevent you from causing harm to the other party.”

“Wh—”

But Mackenzie was on a roll. She wanted the partnership, but not at the expense of her values as a human being.

“There is also the matter of the other problem that I mentioned. I’m going to ask you directly, because if I don’t, Matilda’s lawyer will do it in front of a judge. She’s smart, and—I’m sure she can’t prove it yet, so there is a glimmer of hope for you right now. But I get the impression that she knows enough to make things difficult.” She paused and sucked in a deep breath. “What is the account ending in four seven five zero?”

Mackenzie heard the crackling of the connection down the phone, so she knew Anna hadn’t hung up on her, but aside from what sounded like slightly labored breathing, there was silence. Mackenzie waited her out until: “It’s nothing.”