FINAL HEARING

Cut the crap, please, Anna! You want me to squeeze his balls, right? You want me to press them until they burst, I know you do. You want me to snatch every last cent out of his bank accounts. Come on, darling, admit it."

The model-like woman standing next me let a deadly, conniving smile spread on her face.
"There you go," I nodded back. "And don't think for a second that innocent face of yours would have fooled anyone in court."
"Fine, I get it!" she spat back. She shifted her weight from one of her never-ending leg to the other, checking the time on her iPhone for the twentieth time. "Where the fuck is he?"
"He still has three minutes to get his sorry ass here, hon..." I sighed. "Please, try to chill out, for God's sake! You're driving me nuts. You see, that's why I should have said no to you in the first place."
"You could not have refused me, darling, " she purred. "You're not doing for me, anyway. You're doing it for Leo. Think of your Godson..."

I stared at her blankly. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm not his Godfather! Julien is."
"Oops, " she smiled apologetically.

Julien is, for the record, my asshole ex.

Six glorious years together which ended, eighteen months ago, with a text message.
Which read: "Met someone. Moving to London."

I will spare you the details of this sordid story for the time being. Rest assured, though: I will paint for you a rather vivid portrait of this particular asshole. But not now.

So, there we were, pacing mechanically in the Palais de Justice's hallway, waiting for Anna's ex-husband to show up for what was supposed to be the final hearing regarding alimony the prick had been reluctant to pay for the past two years.

How had I been dragged into representing her? A mixture of guilt and duty, which were rarely feelings that would get me to do anything. Especially when it entailed working on a divorce case, which was hardly my area of expertise. More on that subject later.

I was glad we were coming at last to this final hearing. I couldn't bear the thought of having to listen to yet another tale about Sergei. Sick and tired of the Russian red haired shithead... who was finally walking towards us, his bald lawyer trailing him.

Sergei stopped a few paces from us. He bore into Anna's eyes and starting speaking to her in Russian, which infuriated me. She snarled back at him and the volume of their conversation rose quickly. My opponent joined the group and tried to intervene.

"Mister Aronovich, please..." he pleaded, putting a hand on Sergei's arm and immediately regretting it.
Whatever Sergei threw back at him sounded like a bark.
"Counselor, " I ventured, " I would appreciate it if your client would not openly assault mine."
"I apologize on his behalf, " he replied, a little too amicably for my taste. I drew Anna aside and tried to calm her.

"What did he say?" I asked, still eyeing the bald attorney and trying to figure out what he was planning.
"He insulted me. And you. He told me he would not allow to be dragged into court by a slut and a cocksucker."
"Charming, as usual."
"That we would both pay for that."
"Yeah, whatever."
"Tell me we have him, Philippe."
I tried a fake chubby-cheeks-smile. "We do. The judge has records of all his bank accounts, all his assets. No way he can get out of paying you what he owes you and Leo."
"You're absolutely positive?"
"Absolutely," I lied. 

Absolutely sure that something was going on that was not on the menu, that's what I was.
Baldy over there, with his sweaty forehead and overconfident stare, was starting to bug the crap out of me. 

That's when my phone started to vibrate in my pant's pocket. I drew it out and looked at the unknown number displayed on the screen. Normally, I don't answer when the call is blocked or the person's name isn't in my address book. But for some weird reason, I decided to pick up.

"Philippe Guerrand, j'écoute?"
All I got was street noise.
"Allo?"

I heard five short beeps. It didn't register at first. Then I heard it.
The low creaking sound of a heavy wooden door, a very distinctive sound I recognized immediately: it was my building door.

A cold sweat ran down my spine as I listened to the steps echoing in my hallway. Then came the clear sound of someone inserting a key... and entering my apartment. The call ended.

I slowly put my phone back in my pocket and looked around me, freaking out.

Anna caught it. "Are you alright?"
I didn't have time to answer. A clerk called out our case. 

[To be continued]