‘Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh - ’

POW!!!!

I froze, my cheek blazing with pain.

Jen shook me, ‘Jesus woman, get a hold of yourself!’

I dazedly looked up to see James shove Jen out of the way, giving her a dirty look, ‘What are you on, steroids? You could of knocked her teeth loose with that shit!’

He gently tipped my chin up to look me in the eyes, ‘Emma, honey? Em, are you okay? Here, why don’t we take a deep breath to center ourselves like we do in yoga. Alright, close your eyes and breathe deep in through the nose and out through the mouth. In and out. In and out.’

I blindly followed his directions, taking five deep breaths before I opened my eyes again and looked around, recognizing the ladies room’s dusty plastic flower and hideous pink wallpaper.

Jen caught my hand, ‘Emma, what’s wrong? Did Mr. Happy Hands go too far? Cause I know people who can kill him and make it look like an accident…’

I blinked slowly, her words barely seeping in.

‘No, its not him – It’s her….She’s coming in today…She’s….Oh God, I’m gonna get fired…She’ll know…’

Jen looked at me confused while James gave a small gasp and whispered, ‘Noooo.’

I nodded.

Jen looked around, ‘What? I don’t get – oh fuck, you mean her as in his WIFE?!? Oh shit! You are fired!’

James shot her another dirty look, ‘Jen! Not helping! Look, Em, calm down, it’s okay. There’s no way she could know about what happened.’

‘Maybe not, but I’m gonna know it was me. I ruined their marriage. How can I sit there knowing I ruined that poor woman’s life?!’

James snorted, ‘Oh honey please, you’re so naïve. This is LA, everyone cheats. Plus, he’s Justin Timberlake, girls have been chasing after him since he hit puberty, so I doubt this is his first time doing it. Hell, she probably cheats on him too. She’s just mad right now and wants to threaten him.’

Jen nodded, ‘Yeah, it’s not like she saw you anyway. They probably won’t even go through with it. They’ll just kiss and make up like half of the other clients. So relax, you’re good.’

Pause. Hmm, now let’s think about this rationally. If you saw another woman in your bed with your husband would you: A) leave them sleeping peacefully or B) go apeshit and end up being the next Merry Murderess to perform the Cell Block Tango? …Yeah, I’d go with B too… And since I’m still alive, I doubt she saw me in bed with him….And if you saw some lady in your husband’s four hundred dollar Burberry robe leaping off your balcony, you would have called the cops, right? …But no one followed me, so she probably didn’t see me then either. …You know, I’m probably blowing this all out of proportion. I mean, he’s Justin Timberlake, playboy extraordinaire, and she should know that a zebra won’t change it stripes just cause you put a ring on its hand…well, hoof, but you know what I’m saying. People magazine even said their marriage was on the rocks anyways, so it’s probably not even my fault she’s here. So yeah, I can relax….

I took a deep breath, ‘Ok, I’m ready.’

--------------

Five minutes later, I sat down in one of the plush chairs towards the end of the mahogany conference table and began to set up the stenography program on my laptop, hesitating when I saw my shaking hands hovering over the keyboard.

I started to take a deep breath, but froze as my slime ball boss, his understanding expression at odds with the mischievous glint in his eyes, held the door open for the three women to enter.

The first one to enter, a petite redhead with a bland expression, immediately beelined for the elegant display in the far corner of the room where we set up refreshments and a small breakfast basket with muffins, scones, and a bunch of other assorted pastries that, due to my frazzled nerves, I wanted to attack like a wild bear.

Instead I watched as the woman, whom I assume is Jessica’s personal assistant, poured glasses of water for the other two women and then took a seat across from me, nodding politely. I nodded back with a small smile that probably looked more like a grimace. The PA didn’t look suspicious, just…bored, which is a good thing…right?

The next woman in was a leggy blonde who, though she was quite a bit taller, managed to be even thinner than the redhead (quite a feat, trust me). The concerned expression on her face mixed with the rage in her eyes made me peg as ‘the friend’.

I gave a tiny smirk. I’ve always loved ‘the friend’. I swear they’re the reason for most of the divorces in America. Their constant goading (like referring to the other spouse as that rat bastard/the evil bitch) keeps the divorcee angry enough to actually go through with the divorce and half the time they’re the one banging their best friend’s spouse! I secretly love cheating spouse cases because when the unsuspecting husband/wife finds out (and they always seem to find out), the conference room transforms into a Jerry Springer episode complete with cursing, fighting, and sometimes (if I’m lucky) some thrown furniture. But I digress…

I watched as she calmly walked in and sat down.

‘Ms. Biel, Ms. Davis, I’d like to introduce to Ms. Porter, my personal assistant. She’ll be transcribing today’s meeting and any hereafter.’

Maybe I’d been expecting too much. Most first timers come in to their initial divorce proceedings looking hurt or guilty, sometimes with eyes glassy from Vicodin or reeking of Jack Daniels. But the woman I saw in front of me looked completely unfazed.

Her glossy brown hair was pulled back into a loose bun, her makeup artfully applied, and her clothes pressed to perfection. In fact, the only thing slightly off about her was the dark smudges under her eyes that even her concealer couldn’t mask.

She nodded at me, ‘Hello.’

She sounded exhausted… no worse that, she sounded defeated. The guilt I’d been struggling with all morning hit me full force as I choked out a ‘Good Morning’ to her.

For the next thirty minutes I was on autopilot, silently drowning in shame as I typed Mr. Klein’s explanation of the divorce proceedings.

After he finished his speech, he folded his hands and gave a sympathetic smile, looking all the concerned father-figure.

‘Ms. Biel, I know you understand that this is an incredibly important decision in your life. Would you like to take some more time to think about it or would you like to continue with these proceedings?’

Time seemed to freeze as everyone held their breath and waited for her decision.

After a long pause, she bowed her head and nodded, ‘Continue.’

And that was it. With one word, she’d just committed to months, if not years, of nasty divorce hearings and hundreds of thousands of dollars of her money to the black hearted bastard sitting at the head of the table, eyes shining with glee.

Klein gave a slow, regretful nod, ‘Alright well, one of the first things we like to do is go back and find out come you came to this point in your relationship. This way we can start to work on your case. If you can, could you tell me a bit more about your relationship with Mr. Timberlake?’

Eyes downcast, she quietly began, her voice edged with pain.

‘We dated for a couple years before we got married. It was the happiest day of my life. Everything was perfect, my family was all there and Justin…Justin looked so beautiful. I was happy… we were in love.’

She cleared her throat as it clogged up with tears. Her friend immediately reached over and held her hand, eyes glistening. Jessica took a minute to compose herself, using Klein’s offered handkerchief to dot at her eyes before continuing.

‘Then, six months ago….I…we…I made a personal decision that Justin didn’t agree with so he…left for a month…’

I glanced up.

 Personal decision? What kind of ‘personal decision’ would make their husband leave them? And for a month no less…hmm…and the plot thickens….

Mr. Klein simply nodded and jotted down a couple notes, ‘Please, go on.’

‘We, um, talked and decided to go to marriage counseling twice a week. And it’s been…,’ she sighed, ‘It’s been tough. I thought that uh, it was supposed to get better but… it hasn’t. We hardly talk anymore and he’s always cold… not like he’s cruel but like… like he forces himself to be polite…like he can’t even stand to be around me anymore. And then…then…’

Her tears finally spilled over as she broke off with a sob, covering her face with her hands.

Her friend, Ms. Davis, continued, voice filled with contempt, ‘And then we found these last week.’

Jessica’s assistant pulled a Ziplock bag out of her attaché and handed it to Ms. Davis who threw it on the conference table with disgust.

I looked at the contents of the Ziplock and stopped breathing.

There they were. My pink Hello Kitty panties complete with white polka dots and a cute bow on the front…..

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…I’m fucked. Fucked. FUCKED!!!

My DNA would be all over those things and all it would take was eight days and some nerd in a lab coat to seal my fate. Then I’d be thrown out of here on - 

My thoughts were interrupted as Ms. Davis continued,

‘She found them in her drawer. Housekeeping must have cleaned them and put them back in her drawer … as if she would wear anything so tacky.’

My head shot up.

Tacky my ass, those are cute!  Just cause I prefer Macy’s to La Perla doesn’t mean you have to call them tacky. Evil heifer…Anyways…

Mr. Klein nodded again, ‘Mmhmm. Ms. Biel, did you ask your housekeeping staff or Mr. Timberlake about it, maybe it was just a misunderstanding.’

Jessica opened her mouth to speak, but her enraged friend cut her off.

‘Of course she did. The maid said she found them on the floor next to the bed and threw them in the laundry. And when I showed them to that cheating, no good bastard, all he said was, ‘Cute.’ and asked if they were new. The nerve!’

I gave a small smile. So there! Justin thinks they’re cute too and he’s a frickin designer!

My triumph however, quickly died as I looked at Jessica’s face, pain etching lines around her closed eyes.

She finally spoke up, ‘I’m not doing this for the money or the attention….I just want to know for sure….I just can’t believe he’d see another woman, not after everything we’ve been though …I just need to know. If I’m right and he’s been faithful, then I can’t go through with this…this thing…but if I’m wrong and he…brought another woman to our house…to our bed…if he did…then I want him to PAY.’

Jessica looked up, her eyes filled with vengeful tears.

Mr. Klein, having heard the same thing from countless women before, just nodded.

‘Well, Ms. Biel, my firm works closely with a team of very confidential private investigators who are very good at what they do. If you like, I could - ’

‘No, that won’t work. I’m sure they’re good at their jobs, but they won’t be able to follow him that close. Justin’s very personal and he has a lot of people who work to keep his private life just that. So no, that’s not going to work. I want someone with him at all times to see where he goes, who he sees, if he meets other women. I want – no I have to know…I just have to know.’

Mr.Klein made another note, ‘I’ll contact them just in case and I’ll see what we can do.’

And with that the meeting was over, Mr. Klein promised to get started immediately on the case and dispensed with the niceties to get her out. In reality, he was probably going to go hit the golf course like he always did when he saw big money coming in.

I finished typing up some final notes and uploaded them so Mr. Klein or one of his many overworked, Ivy League underlings could look at them later, then headed back to my desk to try to get back to my routine. I updated Mr. Klein’s schedule for the day and caught up on his messages.

Halfway though sorting his emails, my phone began to ring as the light above the number pad lit up. Shit, that meant Klein was calling.

‘Yes, sir?’

‘Ms. Porter, may I see you in my office please?’