Part 6 (1/2)
”Of course. And that's what I'm going to do. In the meantime, humor me. Tell me about Melvin.”
Cora exhaled a cloud of smoke. ”I met him in Vegas. My marriage had fallen apart, I was drowning my sorrows in settlement money. Not really drowning my sorrows-more like taking a victory lap. I was playing poker. Seven-card stud. He was at the table. I probably wouldn't have noticed him at all, except he folded a winning hand.”
”What do you mean?”
”I bluffed, and he folded a winner.”
”How do you know he had a winner?”
”He had me beat on board.”
”Huh?”
”Stick with law, kid. Anyway, he said, 'Nice hand, little lady.' He smiled. Slimy son of a b.i.t.c.h.”
”Never mind the slimy part. That came later. You liked him then. How come?”
”He was an attractive man. Wavy hair, flas.h.i.+ng eyes, lovely smile, good teeth.”
”Oh.”
”The teeth were capped, the hair was plugs, the eyes were roving. Complete phony. I should have known.”
”What did he do?”
Cora snorted. ”Rat b.a.s.t.a.r.d bought me a drink.”
”That's not so bad.”
”He was there with his wife.”
”Oh.” Becky considered. ”That's good.”
”How is that good?”
”If he was cheating on his wife, I can raise the inference he was cheating on you. It never hurts to stir the pot of marital infidelity.”
”You speaking as a lawyer?”
”How else would I be speaking?”
”Aaron just got married.”
”Aaron is not my first ex-boyfriend to get married.”
”Hmm. Bad track record?”
”Finish your cigarette and come back in. We don't really need to discuss this where the people in the pizza parlor can hear.”
”You didn't mind discussing my life where the people in the pizza parlor can hear.”
”You don't run a business over the pizza parlor. Come in when you're done.”
Cora stubbed out her cigarette, flipped it out the window. She went in to find Becky sitting at her desk. ”Gee. I scared you back into stuffy lawyer mode.”
Becky ignored the comment, poised a pencil over a legal pad. ”So, you met him in Vegas. How soon after that were you married?”
”About six months.”
”That long?”
”Well, he had to get a divorce.”
”Of course. Silly me. Are you sure he did?”
”Why?”
”Be interesting if he hadn't. The guy's going to throw another husband at you, you could throw another wife at him.”
”What good would that do?”
”We're trying to put you in the better light. These are our talking points. Husbands cheat. Men are pigs. He did cheat on you, didn't he?”
”He cheated on the honeymoon.”
”Can you prove it?”
”Yeah, if you can subpoena some nameless c.o.c.ktail waitress who worked some nightclub in New York.”
”Some nightclub?”
”People drink in nightclubs. Things get fuzzy.”
”Great.” Becky sighed. ”All right. Let me ask you the money question.”
”What's that?”
”We have to be in court at ten o'clock Monday morning.” Becky c.o.c.ked her head. ”If Melvin is there, can you stop yourself from jumping up and yelling at him?”
”Becky.”
”I'm serious. If I'm going to be your lawyer, you have to do what I say. You have to sit there and be quiet. Can you do that?”
”Yeah,” Cora said grudgingly.
”You won't jump up and yell at him?”