The mediator took her seat. “Okay, why don’t we start again now that everyone has cooled down.”
Rebecca folded her hands on the table and straightened her back. Poker time. “I’ve talked with my client, and I believe we have a workable compromise. Mr. Ames will give Mrs. Ames the dog, his old records, the Mercedes, and her antique doll collection in exchange for the house and the SUV.”
Anthony went tense in his chair, and Rebecca could feel the what-the-hell-are-you-doing vibe coming from him, but she didn’t look his way.
Daphne’s eyes went comically wide. “My doll collection? That’s mine anyway.”
“It was acquired during the marriage.” Rebecca kept her tone professionally bored.
“The doll collection is off the table,” Raul said smoothly.
Rebecca made a note on her legal pad. “Then the record collection is, too.”
“Fine.” Daphne nodded. “Take your crappy records.”
Raul frowned, his sentimental bargaining chip slipping out of reach.
Rebecca fought a smirk. One down. “Okay, Ms. Ames, so you g
et Prince Hairy and will be solely responsible for his care and vet bills. Mr. Ames will get the house and will buy you out of your half. Agreed?”
“No,” Daphne said, glancing at her lawyer with a do-something look. “I’m not leaving here without the house. I picked every paint color, every tile, chose every piece of furniture. It’s mine.”
“You could move in with your parents, Daph,” Anthony said casually, playing his part again. “Until you find another place.”
She blanched. “I’d rather kill myself than live with them. I’m not leaving my house.”
Anthony propped his chin on his fist as if settling in for a really good movie.
Rebecca tried not to grimace at Daphne’s comment. She’d never gotten used to how easily people tossed around those dramatic words. Threats of suicide and murder rolled off people’s tongues all the time, especially in divorce mediation. She knew it was just hyperbole, but in high school, two people had made those threats and then carried them through. No one had listened. They’d thought it was an exaggeration. She’d thought it was an exaggeration. They’d all been wrong. So very wrong.
Her stomach flipped over and she took a sip of water, trying to shake off the memories that were like the off-key elevator music of her life, never far in the background and always ready to turn up louder. She clenched her jaw, forcing her expression to remain neutral. “It seems we’re at an impasse.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Ames,” the mediator said, “if we don’t resolve this here, it will have to go to court. Try to remember that compromise isn’t losing. Seeking things just for revenge feels satisfying in the short term but will drag this process out, cost you more money with your lawyers, and create more stress for you. You will be dealing with each other for a long time. If we can resolve this here, you can walk away and not have to see each other again.”
“Well, there’s a bonus,” Anthony muttered.
“I’m not afraid to go to court to get my house,” Daphne said, her tone frosty.
Rebecca set her pen down and focused her attention on Daphne. “Mrs. Ames, I’m sure your counsel has warned you that if this goes to court, you’re going to risk losing more than you will if we can come to an agreement here. Texas allows fault to be shown in divorce. We have proof of your affair. These details will be fair game in court.”
Daphne wet her lips, and her throat worked.
Rebecca cocked a brow in a way that she hoped conveyed, Yes, all those dirty details you’re replaying in your head right now? They will be exposed in court. And no one is going to side with you after that because no one likes a cheater.
She had watched the incriminating video at Anthony’s side since he’d wanted to see the whole thing but didn’t want to do it alone. Daphne had forgotten about the security cameras her husband had installed outside by their pool, and she’d put on quite an X-rated show with the contractor one night when Anthony had been out of town. The explicitness of the video had made Rebecca feel equal parts uncomfortable and fascinated. She’d definitely never had that kind of intense sex. She’d never had the urge to literally rip someone’s clothes off to get to them. Frankly, she hadn’t realized people actually did that outside of movies. She couldn’t fathom being that…feral with anyone.
But seeing it had made Anthony vomit, and that was when Rebecca had understood the real story.
The man had truly loved his wife, and his world had just been ripped in half. He’d thought he was in one kind of movie and had ended up in another. He wasn’t the hero. He was the fool. He’d wound up in the wrong third of the statistics.
So Rebecca had no qualms about taking Daphne down. Cheaters deserved what they got. And, too bad for Daphne, they were Rebecca’s specialty.
“You’re trying to scare me,” Daphne said finally.
Rebecca leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, relishing that calm, cool control that filled her veins in these moments. “I’m simply stating the facts, Mrs. Ames. Ask your lawyer if he thinks I’m exaggerating. If we go to court, you will be deemed at fault and the settlement will most definitely reflect that.”
Raul folded his hands and rested them on the table, his own poker face in place. “We’re prepared to go to court if necessary. My client will not bend on the house.”