Page 9 of Overruled
Five
Dani
I can think of a dozen things I would rather do than visit Ezra’s firm.
Yet, here I am, walking through the wide-open space of the entryway as I step off the elevator and onto the floor where the Hart we’re only including assets gained between them during the course of their marriage.
” I glance up at Ezra then, finding him smiling at me infuriatingly.
“You wanted to discuss the possibility of a settlement?”
“Ah. Right. Mr. Casiraghi hates the idea of dragging his wife—”
“Soon-to-be-ex-wife,” I correct.
Ezra’s grin widens, and my stomach does that thing again that I hate. “Right. Sorry, he hates the thought of putting her through such a public trial unnecessarily and is prepared to settle to avoid the whole thing if she’s agreeable to it.”
I have to force my eyes to remain steady, holding back a preemptive eye roll.
This should be good.
“And what is Mr. Casiraghi prepared to offer for this settlement?”
“He’s prepared to let their home here in Austin go to Mrs. Casiraghi, ten percent of the business’s current net worth, as well as a five percent share in the company for any future assets.”
I read once that the human brain registers four seconds of silence as rejection, so I make sure to count to a full five before I give Ezra an answer.
“I think I can safely say that my client will not be accepting that offer, since it’s, to be frank, a bullshit offer.
Seriously, Ezra. Didn’t I tell you to keep the bullshit to a minimum? ”
“I think it’s more than fair,” Ezra answers coolly. “Considering there’s a prenup in place.”
“One that would be rendered null and void per the infidelity clause.”
“You haven’t produced any evidence to prove that those claims aren’t entirely circumstantial.”
“Well, unless it’s his spiritual advisor that’s been sending him all of those emails…”
Another grin for my trouble. “You always seem to be beating around the bush, Dani.”
“Like to beat something ,” I mutter under my breath. I look him in the eye when I speak to him again. “I will have to check with my client, but don’t hold your breath on that offer.” I let my lips curl. “Or do. It makes no difference to me.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Ezra says, his voice still aggravatingly upbeat.
He reaches a hand across the table without even looking at his paralegal, Kevin, waiting until the man in question deposits a thick binder.
“In that case, all I can offer you today are Mr. Casiraghi’s financial disclosure documents.
My client was afraid you might react that way to his very generous—and unnecessary, I might add—offer, and in the case that you and your client might not want to accept, he regrets to inform you that he will have to disagree to Mrs. Casiraghi’s proposed terms to leave her trust out of the combined assets. ”
I blink at him stupidly, caught off guard for a second. “Excuse me?”
“Mr. Casiraghi has helped manage her trust for the entirety of their marriage to the benefit of his wife. It has seen rapid growth because of his investments. My client feels that if your client insists on dragging him through a very lengthy and unnecessary bout in court, as well as attempting to besmirch his good name, then all assets between the two of them should be on the table.”
“?‘Besmirch his good name’?” I sputter. “What is this, a Jane Austen novel?”
Ezra shrugs. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
“Typical,” I scoff, snatching the binder from him. “Is there anything else you need from me?”
“Are you offering something else?”
I feel warmth creep up my neck. “No.” I tuck his binder into my briefcase, pushing away from the table to stand. “Honestly, this entire meeting could have been an email. I don’t even see why I needed to come in.”
Ezra stands with me, stuffing his hands in his pockets easily and giving me that slow, lazy smile that flips my stomach. Something that only adds fuel to the fire that is my anger at this entire debacle. “I’m always happy to see you in person, Dani.”
“Well, that makes one of us,” I toss back. “I’ll be in touch with my client’s official decision in regard to your client’s settlement offer. Again, feel free to hold your breath until my call.”
“Have a good day, Dani.” He completely ignores my frosty attitude, acting as if we just had a casual brunch together. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”
I bristle at the implication, but say nothing as I turn to leave the room with my things in hand.
My steps back toward the front foyer are much heavier than before, irritation evident in my stride.
I think I might actually be muttering obscenities under my breath.
Why do I let him get under my skin like that?
Why is it that everything Ezra says seems to turn me into the human equivalent of a snapping turtle?
I blame my distracted thought process for not watching where I’m going properly, and when I bump into a large, hard body, I wince, immediately offering up an apology.
“Sorry, I didn’t see—”
I recognize him immediately; he’s had as much press as his brother, after all, but the elder Hart brother, Eli, looks entirely different than Ezra.
Harder, somehow. His dark hair is neatly combed, and his piercing blue eyes, which he narrows in my direction as if I’m some sort of bug, give me a much different but no less irritating feeling than those of his brother.
“Ms. Pierce,” Eli says stiffly. “Pardon me.”
“No, it was my fault. I didn’t see you.”
“All right.”
Damn. Usually there is least one more pretend back-and-forth of the blame game before we just settle on it, but okay.
“You met with my brother?”
I feel my spine go a little straighter. “Just left, actually.”
“Mm.” He gives me a once-over, but something about it makes me feel…
cold. It’s a stark contrast to the way I feel when Ezra does something similar.
Weirdly, at this moment, I might prefer the frustrating warmth of Ezra’s gaze over the unsettling coldness of his brother’s.
“Well. I suppose I should offer you good luck on the case.”
I wait for him to actually offer said good luck, but since all he gives me after that is a tight nod and a brush-off as he moves around me like I’m a traffic cone—I guess that’s as good as it’s going to get.
I turn my head to watch him go with a frown; he wasn’t rude exactly, but he wasn’t…
not rude either. I puff out a breath as I continue on, putting the interaction behind me.
Damn Harts. Assholes, the whole bunch.
···
“And the settlement they offered,” I say heatedly, continuing what’s turned into a twenty-minute rant about the most infuriating man I’ve ever met while my friends and I sit at the bar of our favorite hangout. “It was ridiculous. Actually insulting.”
“I’m assuming Mrs. Casiraghi told them to fuck off?” Vera asks.
I make a face. “Not in so many words, but basically. I told Ezra to expect as much.”