getting her way, her husband would still be sitting fancy. His online security firm has amassed a huge fortune as one of the most trusted and secure datum protectors.
Rachael hid it well, but secretly she detested women like Jennifer Hurley. They were never satisfied. Like blood thirsty vampires, they always wanted more. Give them even a little taste of wealth and they’d milk you for all your worth and leave nothing but a dried up husk.
Rachael tried to explain to her client that she wouldn’t receive a better offer than the one she was already getting. It wasn’t like her husband had cheated on her or anything. Hell, Rachael half suspected that it was the other way around.
Jennifer Hurley crossed her long legs and gave Rachael a fixed look. Rachael brushed her hair out of her eyes and gave a reticent smile.
“You look a little distracted. Is everything alright?”
“I’m fine,” Rachael replied. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
Jennifer leaned back and droned on some more about how Levi owed her, although Hurley’s words quickly turned into white noise inside Rachael’s head. It seemed to Rachael that her client was more in love with her husband’s money than the actual man. So when Levi put the lid on her spending and froze his wife’s bank accounts, she went to court to get back what she felt was rightfully hers, whether she deserved it or not. Rachael had always held that divorce was the quickest and easiest way to get a man’s purse, and farm more economical that pickpocketing.
There was no denying it though, Jennifer Hurley was ten different kinds of beautiful. Rachael supposed that’s what money and constant pampering could buy you. Her breasts were almost certainly augmented and her body glowed bronze from an upmarket airbrushed tan that was so uniform that it looked like her skin was bathed in real gold. Somehow, Rachael suspected that beneath all the artificial layers, behind those crystal blue eyes, there was something more to Hurley.
Rachael checked her watch again and released an exasperated sigh.
“Sorry to ask again,” Hurley said with a hint of minor annoyance. “But is something the matter?”
“ Pardon?” Rachael said, looking back up at her client. “Oh, no. I’m just a little tired is all,” Rachael immediately added. “I didn’t sleep well last night. My son kept having nightmares and waking up. Neither of us got a good night’s sleep, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you had any kids.”
“Just the one,” said Rachael, turning toward the framed picture of Hector that hung on her office wall. The same one which had been hanging there since the first day that Hurley had set foot in her office over two weeks ago.
Mrs. Hurley followed her gaze and looked at Hector. “He’s adorable.”
Rachael smiled. Her smile was as fake as Hurley’s breasts—meant to please b ut clearly straining credulity. “Thanks,” Rachael said as she looked at the picture of her son. “He’s everything to me.”
Making an attempt to be polite, Hurley asked, “So are you and your husband planning on having any more kids anytime in the near future?”
Rachael’s eyes grew big with shock. She was totally caught off guard by the question. Everyone in her office knew that her husband had died and tip-toed around such personal issues. She hadn’t ever considered the possibility of getting the question from a client before.
“I … um … lost my husband a few years ago.”
“Oh,” Hurley replied. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Rachael just smiled politely as she wasn’t interested in discussing the topic any further.
Hector was too young to remember the events clearly, but the roads were icy that night. The eighteen-wheeler had hit a patch of black ice and skidded through a red light of the four-way intersection they were passing through. What has been a simple trip out to dinner quickly turned into Rachael’s worst nightmare.
Unab le to stop or even slow down, the
Rachael hid it well, but secretly she detested women like Jennifer Hurley. They were never satisfied. Like blood thirsty vampires, they always wanted more. Give them even a little taste of wealth and they’d milk you for all your worth and leave nothing but a dried up husk.
Rachael tried to explain to her client that she wouldn’t receive a better offer than the one she was already getting. It wasn’t like her husband had cheated on her or anything. Hell, Rachael half suspected that it was the other way around.
Jennifer Hurley crossed her long legs and gave Rachael a fixed look. Rachael brushed her hair out of her eyes and gave a reticent smile.
“You look a little distracted. Is everything alright?”
“I’m fine,” Rachael replied. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
Jennifer leaned back and droned on some more about how Levi owed her, although Hurley’s words quickly turned into white noise inside Rachael’s head. It seemed to Rachael that her client was more in love with her husband’s money than the actual man. So when Levi put the lid on her spending and froze his wife’s bank accounts, she went to court to get back what she felt was rightfully hers, whether she deserved it or not. Rachael had always held that divorce was the quickest and easiest way to get a man’s purse, and farm more economical that pickpocketing.
There was no denying it though, Jennifer Hurley was ten different kinds of beautiful. Rachael supposed that’s what money and constant pampering could buy you. Her breasts were almost certainly augmented and her body glowed bronze from an upmarket airbrushed tan that was so uniform that it looked like her skin was bathed in real gold. Somehow, Rachael suspected that beneath all the artificial layers, behind those crystal blue eyes, there was something more to Hurley.
Rachael checked her watch again and released an exasperated sigh.
“Sorry to ask again,” Hurley said with a hint of minor annoyance. “But is something the matter?”
“ Pardon?” Rachael said, looking back up at her client. “Oh, no. I’m just a little tired is all,” Rachael immediately added. “I didn’t sleep well last night. My son kept having nightmares and waking up. Neither of us got a good night’s sleep, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you had any kids.”
“Just the one,” said Rachael, turning toward the framed picture of Hector that hung on her office wall. The same one which had been hanging there since the first day that Hurley had set foot in her office over two weeks ago.
Mrs. Hurley followed her gaze and looked at Hector. “He’s adorable.”
Rachael smiled. Her smile was as fake as Hurley’s breasts—meant to please b ut clearly straining credulity. “Thanks,” Rachael said as she looked at the picture of her son. “He’s everything to me.”
Making an attempt to be polite, Hurley asked, “So are you and your husband planning on having any more kids anytime in the near future?”
Rachael’s eyes grew big with shock. She was totally caught off guard by the question. Everyone in her office knew that her husband had died and tip-toed around such personal issues. She hadn’t ever considered the possibility of getting the question from a client before.
“I … um … lost my husband a few years ago.”
“Oh,” Hurley replied. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Rachael just smiled politely as she wasn’t interested in discussing the topic any further.
Hector was too young to remember the events clearly, but the roads were icy that night. The eighteen-wheeler had hit a patch of black ice and skidded through a red light of the four-way intersection they were passing through. What has been a simple trip out to dinner quickly turned into Rachael’s worst nightmare.
Unab le to stop or even slow down, the
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