Hostile Contact (The Hostile Series) Read online

  She sat back in her chair, slumped at what she feared would happen. Her husband was going to fight her on her request to take ownership of their home in Texas, partial ownership of the vacation home in the Cayman's, and the sum of one hundred, twenty-five thousand dollars a month indefinitely.

  “Mrs. Dennis—sorry, Miss Henry?” Trevor pulled her from her internal rant. “Didn't I tell you not to worry or lose faith in your case?” he questioned her defeated attitude that she currently displayed.

  “Yes,” she frowned.

  “What I was trying to tell you, was that your husband has eight off shore accounts, two condos, two additional homes, and three more vacation homes that you were unaware of. At the moment, he has several mistresses to which whom are currently occupying a few of the other properties, two of which has children by him all under the age of ten,” he explained.

  She stood aggressively to her feet and almost ran out of his office, but he reached out to restrain her.

  “Wait, don't leave like this. I know that this is hard for you to hear, but you already knew about one of them and this is your reason for divorcing him, correct?” he asked, pulling her back to her seat.

  “Yes,” she said quietly as tears began to fall from her eyes.

  “Well, this is why you hired my firm. It is our job to know everything about our clients and their opposition,” he breathed, then took a seat on the corner of his desk and faced her.

  “I know that you are upset right now, and all you wanted was to look out for the welfare of your three children. However, they will become adults one day and should be guaranteed trust funds to begin their lives according to how they have become accustomed. With that being said, I have a plan that will not only ensure your future, but your children's futures as well,” he smiled a reassuring smile.

  “Why aren't you looking out for your fellow man, may I ask?” she sounded disbelieving that this man would go after another man who is living what many would consider having the cake and pie.

  “I fight for what's right. Your husband has built an empire fit for a king, and should live as such, with the exception of taking more than one wife. Bigotry is illegal and frowned upon. It hurts people…a lot of people,” he rolled his eyes as the thought of Symóne came to mind. “Mr. Dennis not only created a hostile environment for you, but your children, the other women and any other children he may have out there. His behavior is disruptive, and frankly…it's men like him that make it hard for the good men out there to have a fair chance to create a successful life in this day and time. Women that are subjected to this type of behavior become hardened and guarded and reject sincere courtship, afraid of being taken advantage of in the future. So, Miss Henry, I am going to make an example out of Mr. Dennis and hit him where it hurts most—his finances and his indulgence of women,” he finally finished, giving her a reassuring smile.

  She stood to her feet and felt more confident in her decision to get out while she had the upper hand as Mr. Harrison had strongly urged her to. She reached out to shake Trevor's hand and hesitated as if in thought. She wanted to say something, but shook it off and turned to walk away.

  “What was that look for, did you need something?” he asked her.

  She cleared her throat, “Mr. Harrison…I was just wondering…are you married?” she bashfully looked down.

  “No,” he sighed with a chuckle.

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Why not…if you don't mind me asking?” she was extremely curious why this handsome young man, who was well dressed, intelligent and kind, hadn't been snatched from the market.

  “No, I don't mind,” he stood and stuck his hands in his pockets, and looked right at her.

  “I'm not married because I've spent most of my time studying law and building my firm. I intentionally put all of my focus on my dream so that when I do find the one that I would spend the rest of my life with, she would not suffer through my long nights of studying and many stressful hours of me working all of the time. Now that I am fully established with a team of very capable associates, I can better manage my time and give a woman, well, my wife the much needed attention she deserves,” he explained.

  The look of awe and respect on Miss Henry's face, made Trevor smile bashfully. She sighed and said her last peace, “I can tell during your explanation that there is someone that you have in mind. I wish you all the best Mr. Harrison, and really hope that this woman you'll make your wife someday, will appreciate what she has,” she smiled and bowed her head as she turned and left his office.

  Trevor inhaled deeply, then turned and walked over to the wall of windows behind his desk. He looked down at the crowd of people walking from store to store with shopping bags.

  His mind wandered to Symóne and wondered what could she possibly be doing right this very moment.

  “Knock, knock,” someone called out, interrupting his daze.

  The sound startled him out of deep thought. “Vince,” he acknowledged.

  “Where were you just now?” his partner asked as he entered Trevor's office.

  “In another world,” he shook his head. “So listen, we have the go ahead on the Dennis case to pull out all of the stops. As this is going to be a high profiled case, we'll need to put together a team and get a court order to obtain all of Mr. Dennis' personal and business records of finances and activities for the last twelve years,” he spouted off. “I'll talk to our investigating team and get a trail put on our lady's man and see what he leads us to. But I need for you to implement security on the comings and goings in this building. I'm sure once Mr. Dennis' attorneys gets wind of what we've accomplished so far, they will retaliate with a vengeance on us and our client. We have ten days to file a motion to take this case to trial. Have Jeremy schedule an interview with the nanny and the rest of the staff at the Dennis residence. Let's make it rain for Miss Henry!” he spoke with enthusiasm.

  Chapter 3

  Faye parked and headed up to the second floor and pounded menacingly on Symóne's door. She had just walked in and kicked off her shoes when she was startled. She tip toed to the door, careful not to make a sound and peeked through the peep hole. Exhaling a groan, she snatched open the door.

  “Damn-it Faye! You scared the hell out of me!” she stepped aside and let her in. Faye shrugged nonchalantly and gave Symóne an awe poor baby pout then tossed her purse and keys on the entry table.

  “I'm just keeping you on your toes Symóne. Being single and female living alone is not the safest situation to be in,” she chastened her.

  “Well, you could always move in with me. My offer still stands,” Symóne closed and locked the door.

  “Daddy doesn't think its a good idea for me to move out until I get married,” she explained, taking off her shoes as she sat on the sofa and curled her feet up behind her. Symóne's head fell forward and she came to sit beside her friend.

  “Faye…you are twenty-eight years old. Don't you think that's a little old school?” she asked, but before Faye could answer, Symóne continued. “Is that why you're on a man hunt?” she grinned.

  “Why else? I mean seriously, how am I supposed to get to know a man when I have to bring him home to be subjected to daddy's boxers and his I'm sexy and I know it extra small T-shirt?” she giggled.

  “No offense Faye, but you are never going to get a guy to take you seriously, still living at home at twenty-eight,” Symóne took a sip of her coffee, then a bite of her bagel. She held it out to Faye, offering her some. Faye leaned forward, biting wildly almost taking out Symóne's thumb.

  “That's my finger retard!” she began to laugh hysterically. Faye had accomplished her first goal of the day. She turned to lay back against Symóne, propping her feet on the arm of the sofa and began to twist a small section of her hair.

  “So, I was thinking about that Mr. Harrison guy…” she was interrupted.

  “He would be great for you!” Symóne playfully squealed.

  “Not that I woul
dn't jump at the chance, but he is obviously jonesing for you, my dear.”

  “I thought we were discussing getting you hitched so that you can move out of your parents' house?” Symóne rejected the idea of entertaining a conversation of her personal life.

  Faye sat up and moved beside her friend and placed a hand on her knee, and Symóne drew back a huge breath and exhaled it harshly.

  “Please Faye, I just can't do this right now. I know you only have good intentions, but I am not interested in Mr. Harrison or anyone else for that fact of the matter,” she got up and began to nervously rearrange her decorative accessories. It was something she did often to take her mind off of stressful things, and it worked in her favor as it helped her creative placement abilities to grow stronger.

  “Okay, okay, I get it,” Faye held her hands up in a surrendering gesture. “Anyway, I was thinking of going darker. Being a blonde isn't as much fun as it used to be. I think that's part of the problem. I keep attracting men that just want to play,” Faye sighed, then had a thought. “Why don't we get complete makeovers? We both could use a new start,” she suggested.

  “Actually, I think you're right. Maybe I won't be so noticeable in the coffee shop if I changed my hair color too,” she went into thought mode. They both stood and headed out to go to the Plaza's hair salon first to change up their styles.

  In the mean time…Trevor was working diligently on his high profile case, gathering and studying pertinent information. He was leaned forward at his computer as his fingers caressed the keys, simultaneously lifting his right hand to cradle the mouse as he searched from page to page.

  The hum of the intercom on his office phone went off with a message.

  “Mr. Harrison, there is a Mr. Strozier on hold. Would you like for me to put him through?” Gloria, his secretary asked.

  Trevor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with slight irritation. He surely didn't want to be bothered with the opposing attorney in the midst of his research.

  “Yes Gloria, put him through,” he breathed as he picked up the receiver and spoke, “Mr. Strozier, what can I do for you?” he asked sarcastically.

  “My client would like to settle this case quietly and skip the media circus for the sake of his children. He doesn't feel that it is necessary to have a long drawn out case when he is willing to be reasonable,” he suggested.

  “Oh, and what exactly is reasonable in Mr. Dennis' mind?”

  “Samuel knows that his wife wants their main home here in Austin, since that's where they currently live and the children love their schools. He's also willing to allow scheduled use of their vacation home in the Caymans and…fifty thousand a month in child support and alimony,” he finished.

  Trevor paused in thought, then answered Mr. Strozier. “Gene…you know that I don't bargain. Your client's idea of fair compensation is both ridiculous and an insult. Good day!” he slammed the receiver down. Trevor knew that Mr. Dennis had no idea that the Harrison & Moore firm already knows of his many accounts and properties valued at seven, point, five billion dollars, even exist. To think that this man's wife of fifteen years and three first born, legitimate children deserve less than what he is already dishing out to his mistresses, added fuel to an already blazing fire that burned deep into Trevor's mind. This caused him to want, not only to make an example out of the arrogant Mr. Dennis, but to send out a message and invitation to others out there trapped in the same situations, that these are the type cases he takes pleasure in. Assuring abandoned spouses that there is someone in this world, passionate about ending this type of disruptive behavior.

  Trevor pulled himself out of his internal angry rant and delved himself back into his research. He was putting together a case that would gain his already flourishing firm, national attention.

  Night had fallen and Trevor's eyes were weighing heavy. He needed a hot bath and light, yet filling dinner. He called a local restaurant and placed a to go order and stopped on the way home to pick it up. Once he arrived home, he took his dinner to the kitchen and sat it on the counter and slowly drug himself to the bathroom to run his bath. After soaking for what seemed to be hours, but was only twenty minutes, Trevor was a little more relaxed, slipping on a pair of pajama pants and slippers, then picking up his mail as he made his way to the kitchen where he put his food on a plate, and placed it in the microwave on one and a half minutes, while getting a fork from the drawer.

  Sitting at the table, going through his mail as he ate, his eyes lit up to see a pale blue envelope that obviously was a card, with the return address of his mom on the back. He smiled big as he slid his finger under the flap of the envelope and pulled out the card. It was one of the weekly, just thinking of you, humorous cards she sent him that always put a smile on his face. Somehow, she always knew just what he needed to hear before he needed to hear it and made his day.

  He stood and rushed back to his bedroom to retrieve his phone and dialed her number on the way back to the kitchen.

  “Hi Trevor!” she squealed when she answered the phone. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?” she teased, knowing full well that it was routine after he received her cards.

  “Hi mom, how are you?”

  “I'm just wonderful son. So…what are you up to?” she asked slyly.

  “Long story short, I have a new case that I'm working on. It is a high profile case, and I'm sure it's going to get ugly,” he told her.

  “Does this mean that you could end up on the news?” she sounded worried.

  “Possibly.”

  “Trevor, son…I'm not so sure about this. For some reason, I'm not positive if its your case or something else, but I'm not getting a good feeling right now,” she complained.

  “Everything will be fine Mother. Do you doubt me?” he asked.

  “Never! I know that you will undoubtedly get what you're after, it's just…” she went into thought as he waited for the rest of her concern.

  “It's just that I was wondering, how are you going to meet my daughter-in-law if you keep taking on these high profile cases? When will you have time to court her?” she finally admitted her true concern.

  “Mother, the right one will be accepting and understanding. She will be strong and supportive, and I will make her my priority,” he explained. Somehow, the tone in his voice set his mother off on a quest filled with excitement.

  “You've already found her! I can tell, Trevor!” she began to squeal again. He could only chuckle at her excitement and truthfully give her hope.

  “I believe so, Mother. She just doesn't know it yet.”

  “Oh she knows. I know my son like the back of my hand, trust me she knows!” she declared. “I'm so excited! What can I do to help?” she offered.

  “Nothing. I need no help winning her over. She only needs time, patience, and reassurance of her value. I'll admit I have my work cut out for me, but this case will give me the opportunity to show her some things about who I am. She needs to know my position on the type of behavior she's been hurt by,” he explained.

  “So she's damaged—brokenhearted?”

  “Yes, pretty much,” he answered. He stood and emptied his plate and set it in the sink, then turned off the light as he headed to his bedroom.

  “Trevor, Son I know that you are very capable of mending this girl's heart, but I just want you to be careful. Something about this case and this girl is making the hairs on my arms stand up,” she warned him.

  He sighed heavily. His mother was always on the money with everything about his life up to this point. Her intuition got him through college and starting up his now extremely successful firm.

  “Yes Mother. I will be careful…on guard,” he promised her, then let out a yawn.

  “Okay, well get some sleep and call me if you need my help. Well…with the girl, not your case,” she chuckled.

  “Yes Mother. Good night and thanks for the card. I love you,” he let out another yawn.

  “You're most welcome, good night Trevo
r.”

  Chapter 4

  Monday morning, Symóne was awakened by a text coming through.

  Faye- I'm sick. Can't go to work today.

  Symóne- What's wrong?

  Faye- I think it's a stomach bug. Nausea and diarrhea all night.

  Symóne- Eww! I'll bet it was your mom's meatloaf soup. Lol :)

  Faye- Don't tell her that. I have to go. Call me on your break and tell me everything.

  Symóne- About work?

  Faye- No. Mr. Harrison.

  Symóne- Whatever! Hope you feel better. I'll bring you chicken pot pie and ginger ale after work. Get some rest. TTYL

  Symóne got out of bed and headed to the shower. It was hot and muggy during the night and she needed to refresh herself before work. It was going to be a long boring day without her best friend there to annoy her with her insanely bubbly attitude.

  After parking in her slot at work, Symóne checked her new dark brown, short and edgy hair cut in the rear view mirror before opening her door. She grabbed her purse and phone, then locked her car and headed around to the front of the Plaza and started down the sidewalk. Not wanting to disturb Faye during her healing process, Symóne was suddenly forced to look around herself at all of the workers of the Plaza rushing into their places of employment to get ready for the start of another Monday.

  She approached the coffee shop cautiously, trying not to appear obvious that she was looking for Mr. Harrison, wanting to avoid contact with him. Her new hair do was sure to disguise her appearance, she thought as she stood in the very long line. With no one to text at the moment, her eyes wandered around the coffee shop, noticing more of her surroundings. It was torture, seeing as the line was moving so slow this particular morning, so she held her phone up in front of her face and decided to play a game of solitaire to keep herself occupied. With her attention on the game, she continued to move forward as the line did and ended her session just as she stepped to the counter.

  “I'll have a large coffee, toasted bagel with cream cheese, and…” she was interrupted by a familiar voice behind her.