Evidently...

"Hotel? What? Your boyfriend don't want you?" Kurt asked himself.

"Hi, Mr. Kurt?" Kurt heard a soft voice say.

Kurt's erection was immediate; he wondered if Nadia had been lolling in a sudsy bubble bath when she'd called to remind him about the vase of flowers. He had heard the water running shortly after she'd come home from work that afternoon.

Kurt imagined the short beauty lolling in a steamy bath, carefully running a razor over her plump pubic mound, getting her pretty little pussy nice and smooth for his hungry mouth. Kurt gripped his erection as he imagined putting her on her hands and knees, presenting her round buttocks for his assault. Her inner lips would be a light purple in color, swollen and wet with her excitement. Her tight little anus would be winking in anticipation as he knelt behind her.

Sunday, Kurt returned Nadia's call and left her a message; she could keep the flowers and the chocolates. Knowing Grossman's Jewelers would not refund the money for the diamond and ruby bracelet, Kurt told Nadia's voice mail she could also keep the bracelet. Seeing another message from Donna's cell phone, Kurt reminded himself to cancel Donna's cell service.

"Hey, uh, Matt, you, when you and Lynnette," Kurt asked Matt Spuntzin as he wheeled Monday's orders toward his Spuntzin's Bakery truck.

"Philip Turner," Matt said. "Don't tell me you're finally giving that wife of yours the heave-ho."

"'Fraid so," Kurt agreed heavily.

"Hey, I'm sorry," Matt said, putting an understanding hand on the long-time employee's shoulder. "Divorce, no matter why? Sucks."

"Thanks," Kurt nodded.

"I'll find his number and text it to you," Matt offered.

Kurt was completing his deliveries when Matt's text came through. Kurt nodded somberly; Matt Spuntzin was a good boss. The text gave the phone number and was followed by 'Appointment at 3:30 Tuesday afternoon."

Kurt called Philip Turner's office and Angela Barcia, Mr. Turner's paralegal offered to email Kurt a list of what Mr. Turner would want him to bring for his appointment. Kurt thanked her and again felt the threat of tears coming on.

"Oh, grow up," Donna's voice sneered in her latest voice mail. "God, just because your precious little ego got hurt. So I fucked around, big God damned deal. You really had cut my cell phone off?"

"Oh, thank you, Donna," Kurt said, realizing that Donna had just acknowledged her affair.

The offices of Norton, Turner, Bloomberg & Waitley was in a modern looking glass and black steel building on Highland Avenue. Entering the bright white and chrome reception area, Kurt saw a strawberry blonde beauty that made him forget Donna's name, his own name, why he was in the lobby of the law firm. She greeted Kurt with a beatific smile and flipped her long pinkish hair back, a movement that caused her large breasts to jostle in her snug top.

"Um, turn, turn, Philip Turner," she mused, studying her computer monitor. "Yes sir, I'll let Angela know you're here. Would you like coffee or water?"

"No thanks," Kurt swallowed, looking at her large green eyes, pouting lips and large chest.

"Hi Angela, its Renee. A Mr. Schnauder is here for Mr. Turner," Renee said into her headset.

A moment later, an attractive Latina woman approached, golden brown legs showcased to perfection in her short skirt. The woman paused for a moment and placed an affectionate hand on Renee's shoulder and the two women smiled to each other.

"Mr. Schnauder? I'm Angela Garcia; Mr. Turner's paralegal," Angela smiled warmly, hand outstretched. "If you would follow me?"

"With an ass like that? I'll follow you anywhere you want to go," Kurt thought as the woman led him down a long corridor.

"Mr. Turner's in a meeting right now; I had emailed you a list yesterday," Angela said, escorting Kurt into a plush office.

"I uh, yeah, I, this is what I got," Kurt said, pulling his folder onto his lap.

When Angela bent forward to glance at his papers, Kurt was looking down the front of her blouse. Her brown breasts were large globes dangling barely inches from his face. He could smell Angela's light tinge of sweat, her floral shampoo. He could see the wisps of lace from her stark white bra. And felt a few strands of her dark brown hair as it fell onto his hand.

"Good; always makes our job so much easier," Angela smiled approvingly.

"No, Hannah, Ms. Durst, as you can see, I've got a client in here," Kurt heard from behind him.

Angela straightened, her face hard with disapproval. Kurt looked over his shoulder and saw a man roughly his age, dressed in an expensive looking suit of charcoal gray. Next to him was a young and very attractive blonde woman, dressed in cream colored blouse and knee length navy blue skirt. From years of observing Donna's business attire, Kurt was willing to bet that this woman had a matching jacket draped over the back of her desk chair.

The woman had long whitish blonde hair, oval face with just a hint of makeup, big blue eyes and pouting lips. Her breasts stretched the blouse's material taut and nipped down into a small waist. When she snapped an unheard reply to Philip Turner, she turned and Kurt admired her bubble butt in the snug skirt.

"Philip Turner," Philip said, hand outstretched. "Matt and I? We go way back. He ever tell you I'm way better at golf than him?"

"Uh, no, no, he did mention he lets you win so you don't feel too bad," Kurt responded and Philip let out a hearty laugh.

"Sounds like him, that lying no good son of a gun," Philip said, pumping Kurt's hand. "Thank you, Angela."

"Yes sir, Mr. Turner," Angela simpered, large dark eyes gazing at Philip as he eased himself behind his desk.

"All these gorgeous women...How in the hell do you get any work done?" Kurt wondered as Angela sashayed to the office door.

"Now, let's talk," Philip said when Angela quietly shut the office door.

On Friday, Donna left another screaming tirade on Kurt's cell phone, "You, you're serious? You seriously think..."

The latest message alerted Kurt that Jeannie Childress, Philip's process server had managed to locate Donna Schnauder. After seeing the five or six stunningly beautiful women within the offices of Norton, Turner, Bloomberg & Waitley, Jeannie Childress had been a bit of a surprise. She too was very beautiful, very elegantly dressed in an outfit that complimented her shoulder length red hair. But Jeannie was built like a boy, a very skinny boy.

"Not exactly what you were expecting a process server to look like, eh?" Philip had laughed. "But let me tell you, Mrs. Childress? She can find anyone anywhere, especially if they don't want to be found. She is a whiz on the computer; Jeannie, how many words you can type?"

"All of them," Jeannie responded, then giggled. "A hundred and five words a minute, Mr. Turner."

"Sounds like a machine gun going off when she's typing," Philip praised.

Listening to Donna's shrill message made Kurt sure that Donna wished she had a machine gun. It also made Kurt reflect on their marriage. From the beginning of their courtship, such as it was, Donna had always gotten her way. Kurt had always capitulated to Donna's wishes.

"I wonder...you know what? I bet my, I bet Donna's life there wasn't never a pregnancy," Kurt mused.

"I'm taking the fucking house, you hear me? You can sit there and say it's your momma's house, but I'm taking it," Donna screamed in her latest message.

"Good luck trying," Kurt muttered.

Maisy Schnauder had been a forty four year old librarian when she went to a writer's convention in Little Rock, Arkansas. There, she met twenty one year old David G. McNaughton, an aspiring poet. Over the three days of the convention, Maisy and David made use of her hotel room; he was rooming with two other aspiring poets in a single room. Nine months later, the unwed woman gave birth to her only child.

Thirty three years later, Maisy's nightly one or five gin and tonics finally caught up with her. Kurt agreed to refinance his mother's home and assume the exorbitant monthly note to help pay for Maisy's stay in an assisted living facility. Donna had been happy to finally move out of their cramped two bedroom apartment into a beautiful, well-maintained home. And now was threatening to take the home away from Kurt.

Their first meeting was nearly a month later. Kurt and Philip shrugged their shoulders and agreed to meet Donna and Jamie Tismann, Donna's attorney at the offices of Werner, Franklin & Associates.

"That's fine. Let them pay for the utilities," Philip said.

Jamie Tismann would have never been hired to work at the offices of Norton, Turner, Bloomberg & Waitley. The woman seemed to go out of her way to make herself as unattractive as possible. Kurt had not gone to any psychology courses, but he assumed the fortyish year old woman adopted such a severe façade so that people would presume her to be a serious attorney. Quite the opposite was true; she looked clownish to Kurt.

"We're here to..." Jamie began, voice a harsh grating snarl.

"At my office? Angela would have asked if anyone wanted coffee. Or water," Philip casually interrupted Jamie's barking monologue.

"You want coffee?" Jamie snarled.

"Why sure. I'd love a cup. Mm, black please. Kurt?" Philip said easily.

"Coffee? You know what? Yeah. Yeah, I'd love a cup of coffee. Two creams, one sugar. Donna? Coffee?" Kurt said.

"Uh, now, now Mr. Schnauder; I told you. All communication to one Donna Schnauder should be addressed to either myself or her attorney," Philip said, smiling at Jamie's reddening face.

"Oh. Of course. Silly me," Kurt said. "Ms. Tismann? Would your client like coffee?"

"Oh, ha ha ha," Donna shrilled. "This is all just some big fucking joke to you, isn't it?"

"Do I address you, or her attorney?" Kurt asked Philip.

"Her attorney, I think," Philip shrugged. "I'm afraid I can't answer whether you think this is all some big fucking joke or not."

"Oh, and thanks a lot, having me served at work," Donna snapped at Kurt. "You have any idea how embarrassing that was?"

"Tell Ms. Tismann to tell her client I had no idea where else to serve her; I don't know if she's living with her fuck buddy, or fuck buddies, or her parents, or in a tree house," Kurt said to Philip.

"My client..." Philip started to say to Ms. Tismann.

"We heard him. This meeting is over," Jamie shrilled, getting to her feet. "Reschedule with Kelly when you think you two can be serious."

"I'd like it noted that you are the one calling an end to this meeting," Philip demanded, all levity gone.

"So noted," Jamie snarled, storming out of the conference room.

"And you look fucking stupid with that mustache," Donna spat at Kurt.

When they'd met, Kurt had a thick mustache. Just like the hair on his head, his mustache was blond, threaded with strands of brown and red throughout. Donna had said the mustache itched when they kissed, so after some deliberation, Kurt shaved the thick mustache off.

Now, with Donna out of the house, no longer dictating to him what he should do, Kurt had once again grown the mustache. He had also bought himself a pair of clippers and given himself a buzz cut. Two of the women and one somewhat feminine man on his route had commented on Kurt's new look.

"Mm, shows off those beautiful brown eyes," the man at the Pak N' Go convenience store had simpered.

Now, in the conference room, Kurt smiled at his wife. He turned and looked at Philip. Philip shrugged and Kurt turned and looked at the seething Donna.

"Thanks; yours looks good too," Kurt smiled at Donna.

"I'm almost tempted to not bill you for this," Philip laughed as they stood to leave the conference room.

"One question; is Ms. Tismann any good?" Kurt asked as they stepped out into the chilly afternoon sun.

"My wife ever decides to leave me? I'd recommend Jamie to her. Me? I'd get Sam Bloomberg to represent me," Philip said. "That answer your question?"

"Okay; Donna's not stupid," Kurt mused. "Wonder why she went with Jamie Tismann?"

"Jamie charges women half what I or Sam would charge," Philip supplied then closed the door of his sedan.

"You son of a..." Kurt heard Donna shrill as he shut the door of his own car.

He almost backed over Donna as she marched with great purpose toward his car. He smiled a satisfied little smile as she jumped out of the way of his car.

The second meeting between Kurt and Donna and their attorneys was held in Conference Room C of Norton, Turner, Bloomberg & Waitley. Again, Kurt thought that Jamie Tismann looked comical in her harsh pantsuit. Donna had obviously decided she would show Kurt what he was missing; her breasts were dangerously close to spilling out of her top and her legs were on full display in her short skirt. Her makeup and hair were done to perfection. With a nod, Kurt had to agree, his wife was an attractive woman.

"Ms. Schnauder, Ms. Tismann, coffee? Water? Oh, we also have green tea; it's decaffeinated," Angela Garcia politely asked as Jamie and Donna made themselves comfortable.

Philip waited politely for Angela to serve the beverages. The silence dragged on for a few more moments after Angela quietly closed the door of the conference room.

"Well, if we're finished here," Philip finally said when Jamie did not say anything.

Forty minutes later, neither side had given an inch. Donna was demanding a seventy-thirty split in her favor, with the house being counted as part of the assets. Philip and Kurt were requesting a simple fifty-fifty split, with no maintenance, the house to be excluded from the list of assets.

A third meeting between the combatants, once again at the law office of Werner, Franklin & Associates resulted in the same outcome. Donna and Jamie were unwilling to budge on their demands. Philip and Kurt were likewise unwilling to budge.

Donna again dressed very provocatively for the meeting. Kurt smiled; Time had put a few more pounds on Donna's frame; she was no longer the big breasted blonde teenager that had seduced him.

He knew he was being unfair; Donna could not compete with the attractive young women that danced at Hunter's Cabin. Donna could not compete with their young and very pregnant tenant. Then again, Kurt wondered how he compared with Donna's lover or lovers.

"You know, the coffee at your office? A whole lot better," Kurt commented to Philip during a lull in Jamie's soliloquy.

"Agreed. But you have to remember, we spent a few dollars on a Keurig coffee maker, and we buy the name brand coffee pods," Philip stated. "Angela? My paralegal? I don't know where she gets it all from but she's the one buys everything for the office."

"Hang on to her," Kurt advised.

"Oh no kidding," Philip agreed.

"If you two are finished," Jamie snapped.

"I'm finished. You finished?" Philip asked Kurt.

"Well, since I pay you by the hour, minimum one hour, yeah, I'm finished," Kurt agreed.

"Jamie, Ms. Tismann, it looks like, yet again, we're unable to resolve this matter," Philip addressed Jamie. "So, I would suggest we meet in front of a judge and let them settle all of this."

"We're trying to resolve this so we can just have a judge rubber stamp this," Jamie barked.

"No. No, you're really not trying to resolve anything," Philip sighed. "You're just hoping we get so tired of this endless charade that we just acquiesce to your unreasonable demands."

Depending on your case, depending on your client's demeanor, Judge Seth Grossman was either your favorite judge, or your most feared and despised judge. He was not one to rubber-stamp anything and would ask pertinent questions of each attorney that stood before him.

"Seventy thirty split, and she was the one that committed adultery?" Judge Grossman asked Jamie Tismann.

"The uh, the alleged adultery is a figment of Mr. Schnauder's imagination," Jamie said; Donna had assured her that Kurt had no actual proof of the affair.

"The domicile is not in Mr. Schnauder's name; it is a rental, hmm renting it from one Maisy Schnauder," Judge Grossman continued reading the filing. "Yet your client is demanding fifty percent, not of the equity, but of the appraised value of the home?"

"That is correct, Your Honor," Jamie said. "The home and adjoining apartment belongs to Kurt Schnauder's mother. My client believes that Mrs. Schnauder is only claiming ownership of the property to deny my client her rightful settlement."

When Philip produced the pertinent paperwork, Judge Grossman found that the property was indeed owned by one Maisy Schnauder and therefore would not be part of any division of assets. Donna Schnauder was not entitled to any portion of the property.

"Ms. Tismann, your client is employed, is she not?" Judge Grossman asked, poring over the papers provided to him.

"Uh, yes, she is, but uh, because of COVID, she's been relegated to part-time with Clarkston County's Budgeting," Jamie Tismann declared.

"And has been employed with Clarkston County for...hmm, Seven years, eight months," Judge Grossman mused aloud.

Seth Grossman motioned one of the three bailiffs in his courtroom to approach the bench. He scribbled rapidly on his legal pad and tore the sheet from the pad. The bailiff accepted the sheet and stepped out of the courtroom.

"And, just how long has your client been relegated to part-time status?" Judge Grossman asked, holding Ms. Tismann's gaze intently.

Well, since we're on a mandatory lock-down," Ms. Tismann began.

"I'm aware of the lock-down, counselor," Judge Grossman snapped. "How long? How long has your client's hours been reduced to just part-time?"

"Uh, beginning with the last pay cycle," Jamie admitted.

"Convenient," Judge Grossman drawled. "And, I'm willing to bet, within sixty days of my decision? Mrs. Schnauder will once again be placed on full time status. Counselor? I'm so confident, I'm willing to bet your disbarment on it. Care to take that wager? Mr. Turner, wipe that smile from your face.""

The bailiff returned and put a sheet of paper in front of Judge Grossman. He read it and smiled maliciously.

"Ms. Tismann? Care to take my wager?" Judge Grossman asked again.

"No, Your Honor," Ms. Tismann muttered.

"Because according to Ms. Jackson, Mrs. Schnauder's supervisor, Mrs. Schnauder approached her and requested the reduction of her scheduled hours," Judge Grossman revealed. "And according to Ms. Jackson, no other employees within her department have had their hours reduced, COVID or not. So, nice try, Mrs. Schnauder."

Judge Grossman continued to pore over the paperwork. He frowned and flipped back through several pages, then continued his scrutiny of the paperwork.

"Starting salary is thirty seven thousand eight hundred a year. Even when factoring in maximum allowable deductions, hmm," Judge Grossman said and tapped on his calculator. "Anywhere from twenty three to twenty seven; Ms. Tismann? Where is your client's financial records?"

They, uh, they're right in front of you, Your Honor," Jamie said.

"No. No they are not. I have the bank records for the Schnauders' joint account here. And according to the pay stubs from Mr. Schnauder's place of employment, his entire pay check was deposited, via direct deposit into their joint account each first and fifteenth of the month. Mrs. Schnauder deposited five hundred and fifty dollars each month. Again, if we divide by twelve, minus this five fifty, Mrs. Schnauder, where is the fourteen to seventeen hundred going each month?"

Jamie and Donna exchanged looks. Seth Grossman stared at the two women, unblinking.

"Mrs. Schnauder? The court is waiting for your response," Judge Grossman snapped.

"I uh, the uh the financial records of Mrs. Schnauder are not pertinent to these proceeding," Jamie offered.

"My courtroom, Ms. Tismann. In my courtroom? I decide what is and what is not pertinent. Not you and not your client, Mr. Turner, I am warning you, get that smile off your face," Judge Grossman snapped. Now, you have one hour, Mrs. Schnauder. We will break for lunch and reconvene at one pm. At one pm, I expect to have Mrs. Schnauder's bank statements and her tax filings for the previous three years on my desk. One hour, Mrs. Schnauder. Is that clear?"