The Coincidental Way We Met

A Section of The Coincidental Way We Met: Chapter 21

Mr. Henry’s ex-wife snorted. The idiot had left her nothing in his will. He was always a tight-fisted man. She muttered some curses under her breath. Her cocktail rings dazzled in the bright lights of the lawyer’s office. She did not need the cash anyway. It would have been nice. But their divorce a year, she had gotten every asset she could from him. She had full intent when they finally divorced after being separated for over ten years to gain a much of his assets as possible. When her newest partner had proposed marriage, and she had not wanted to lose this man. He had more wealth than poor old Henry ever dreamed of having. Yes, she had a hit gold and, in the meantime, would send her useless ex-husband to the laundromats.
Her giant Cartier ring on her finger glittered. A massive panther with red rubies for eyes, shiny gold legs, tail, and a back of diamonds. She wore a substantial yellow oval diamond engagement ring on her narrow long hands. Her fingernails were carefully manicured into almost perfect almond-point nails. Her hair was carefully twisted into a French knot, and her hair was bleached almost white, blonde. Her face was like a carefully formed vase with no visible wrinkle or flaw on her skin. She wore a matching blue pants suit and a pair of stiletto red heels. From the eyes of the lawyer and his assistant, the woman reeked of gluttons’ luxuries and mean brunt force of will. She was used to getting her way. Nothing would stop her from destroying everyone and everything in the process.
Her almond nails tapped impatiently on the Gucci alligator handbag. This process was taking too long, and her good for nothing Henry had made his last move and left her without a red cent.
The ugly lawyer grimaced under her stern glare of disapproval. He felt his collar tighten. “I am sorry, Ma’am. It cannot be changed. I am very sorry.”

She snorted loudly, angrily hitting her red heel on the hard marble floor as she stood up in rage. She motioned to the assistant to open the door and get out of the way. Her red stiletto heels made a loud clicking noise as she marched out of the office.
The assistant quickly ran to the office door and threw it open as she stomped out of the office and into the long hallway of the building. The trembling assistant watched her upright figure in the tight blue pants suit march down the hallway and into the elevator.
She rolled her eyes impatiently. She wanted out of this place. The elevator stopped on several floors and picked up poorly dressed office workers. She was now tightly packed into the elevator, and next to her was a bald man with a giant mug of black coffee that read “Las Vegas: Make Your Dreams Come True.”

She pulled her Gucci alligator handbag closer and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Her red stilettos clicked on the hard cement. She saw the small white Porsche parked and inside her partner waited.