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Rachel Pembroke sat in the front row of the audience seats, close enough to Markov to whisper back and forth with him. Her legs in an extremely short skirt were crossed in that very uncomfortable way that makes legs look their best, and she was enjoying the attention of the reporters who took up most of the other seats. A long-haired man nearby had riveted his eyes on Rachel’s face.

“That’s Harry Anderssen,” Lindy told Nina in a low voice, “the model for our new ad campaign. Rachel’s old boyfriend.”

Nina recognized him as the man on the boat who had called out to Rachel when she went overboard during Mike Markov’s party. His hair was shorter and darker than the supermodel Fabio’s, but there the differences pretty much ended.

The judge took his seat with a flourish of his robe. As everyone sat down, Nina noticed her hands were trembling; from the extra cup of coffee at lunch, she told herself. Next to her, Lindy stared straight ahead, her posture proud, her hands folded tightly on the table. Making a show of her support in the first row behind Nina’s table, Lindy’s friend Alice, the one Nina had seen on the boat, turned her thumbs up at them, flashing a smile. Nina stole a look at Riesner. Instantly his eyes swerved to hers, as if programmed to respond to the mildest contact.

He smiled a smile both malicious and somehow smutty. It always made her feel that he had some kind of sexually sadistic feeling for her; that he would enjoy degrading her. At least he couldn’t stare through the counsel table at her body right now. “Ugh,” she murmured, dragging her eyes back toward Milne.

“Markov versus Markov,” Judge Milne said, looking down through his half-glasses at the file on his desk. “Appearances?”

“Jeffrey Riesner of Caplan, Stamp, & Riesner representing Petitioner Mikhail Markov, Your Honor,” Riesner said, jumping to his feet. The weighty firm name contributed to the desired illusion that he and his client had an army behind them.

“Nina Reilly, Law Offices of Nina Reilly, representing Mrs. Lindy Markov, the respondent and cross-complainant,” Nina said, rising. She had two offices if you included Sandy’s.

“Well, let me see what we have here in this blizzard of pleadings,” Milne said. “As I understand it, Mr. Markov has filed an action to eject Mrs. Markov from a residence located at Thirteen Cascade Road. He says she is merely a guest and invitee in his home, or at most a tenant at will, and he says she has threatened him. Am I right so far, Mr. Riesner?”

“That’s correct, Your Honor. Let me clarify an important point at the outset. This lady who calls herself Mrs. Markov is not now and never has been the wife of my client-”

“In a moment, Counselor. Now, Ms. Reilly. You have filed on behalf of your client a Response to the eviction proceeding, alleging that your client ca

“That’s right, Your Honor. If I may-”

“Now, this cross-complaint rather widens the scope of the issues, if I am reading it correctly. Your client appears to be suing Mr. Markov for wrongful termination, fraud, breach of fiduciary duty, constructive trust, breach of contract, intentional infliction of emotional distress, quantum meruit, suit to quiet title, partition for an accounting and appointment of a receiver, declaratory relief… is that it? Have I stated all the causes of action?”

“Yes, Your Honor. Of course, the cross-complaint may be amended to add additional causes of action later.”

“I would have thought we had plenty,” Milne said to a ripple of laughter. He treated the audience to a throat-clearing that continued long and loudly enough to silence them, then said, “I note you allege that the sum of approximately two hundred fifty million dollars is in issue.” That instantly curbed the chuckles. All activity in the courtroom momentarily ceased.

Nina let the deferential hush linger for a moment, then spoke. “Markov Enterprises has a current value somewhere in that realm,” Nina said, keeping her voice steady. “Our primary contention is that Mrs. Markov is a half owner of all assets the couple has acquired during a twenty-year relationship, including various real property and the assets of Markov Enterprises.”

“So it’s only about a hundred twenty-five million dollars we’re talking about?”



“That’s the approximate figure, subject to proof.”

“That’s a lot of money, Counselor.”

“No shit,” Mike Markov said audibly from the other counsel table. Milne looked over, and Riesner shushed him.

“If I may, Your Honor,” Riesner said.

“Go ahead, Mr. Riesner. Please explain what we can accomplish in the half hour available today.”

“It’s simple,” Riesner said. “I urge the Court not to let the filing of this massive and quite frivolous cross-complaint cause any confusion. What my client needs today is a temporary order of the court, pending any final judgments or orders, that Ms. Markov must leave the residence forthwith. Both of them can’t live there anymore, Your Honor, that’s clear from our supporting papers, and the house belongs to Mr. Markov.

“Our only other request is that the Court order Ms. Markov to stay a reasonable distance from Mr. Markov and from her former workplace, and that she refrain from contacting Mr. Markov. There’s nothing special about this situation, Your Honor. A relationship ends, and one of the people can’t let go. That’s all it is.”

“Ms. Reilly? Do you agree? Are these the issues before the Court today?”

“I agree that some temporary orders are all that’s needed at the moment, Your Honor. But those aren’t the orders the Court should issue. Mrs. Markov is requesting that she be given sole possession of the parties’ residence pending further order of the Court. Also-”

“Let’s talk about the house, then. Mr. Riesner?”

Riesner charged into his argument. He granted that it was a long relationship, but all good things must end. Ms. Markov had stubbornly refused to leave the house, and it belonged to Mr. Markov. She had never paid rent, so that was not an issue. Mr. Markov needed immediate relief from the Court because much of his businesses was conducted from an office in the house, as well as in the workshop in which he was working on a new product with a tight production deadline.

Milne nodded his head, following along. These strong, objective reasons expressed quite logically the grounds for putting Lindy out on her rear.

Riesner went on. Mr. Markov, out of the goodness of his heart, had been prepared to pay for Ms. Markov to stay in an apartment or hotel room in town for the next six months, but it was obvious Ms. Markov was out to get Mr. Markov, so that offer was no longer feasible. Mr. Markov was willing to allow Ms. Markov forty-eight hours to remove her personal effects, but due to Ms. Markov’s jealous and aggressive state of mind, which had caused her to attack a friend of Mr. Markov’s, and Mr. Markov himself, a supplemental order should be issued forbidding her from, well-to be blunt-trashing the house. A security detail from Markov Enterprises could supervise the packing.

In a glib flurry of catchphrases, Riesner constructed his image of the case. The spurned, unpredictable, jealous girlfriend. The important businessman. The clutching, tearful scenes, followed by threats when she realized he was serious. Sloppy female emotions that had no place in a court of law.

“All right,” Milne said. “Ms. Reilly? I note that your client does not claim to be married to Mr. Markov. Nor do I see any written evidence in the paperwork to indicate she has any ownership interest in the house. Would you please address those points first?”