Page 22 of Standing Still
Alicia Warwick greets me with a smile and an offer of some tea. Once the pleasantries are out of the way, I fill her in on what happened with Acer’s will.
“And are you looking to seriously contest the will?” she asks after mulling over everything I tell her.
“I’m just looking at options and where I stand. I don’t particularly want to contest it, but I need to know where I stand legally if the other party decides to disregard the wishes of her father and sell.”
“It sounds like he’s left the decision in her hands,” Alicia tells me. “She holds all the power. He’s given her the choice, either follow his wishes, or sell it out from under you. Sorry, that is not what you wanted to hear.”
That is an understatement. I already know Elle is the one who could make or break this.
“You’re both beneficiaries and named benefactors in the will. It’s a legally binding document that has been filed in probate court. And you would be well within your right to fight for your half of the business, but it would be costly and even though you believe Mr. George wanted you to take over, if there is no evidence of that,” she holds out her hands.
“You would have to provide enough of an argument that something was fundamentally wrong with the will in order to have it reversed. I have to say,” she crosses her legs and leans back in her chair. “It’s a pretty unconventional decision he made. I’m sure I would have discussed this more fully with a client and convinced him this wasn’t a good idea if I had been his lawyer. Given the relationship with his daughter, and knowing it would be likely she would make the decision to sell.”
“How much does it cost to contest a will?”
“Different lawyers will have different charges. But ballpark, you’re looking at anything between five and ten thousand,” she says frankly, making me baulk.
I definitely don’t have that kind of money, but Elle does. If she chose to fight me, I’d be screwed. This is nothing I didn’t already know though, but having it confirmed by someone impartial helps.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Ben. Your relationship to the deceased isn’t as strong as his daughter. Do you have proof that Mr. George promised you the business? Anything in writing?” When I shake my head, she gives me a pitying look. “The burden of proof is on you, particularly under these circumstances, without any evidence or a good legal argument.
"I’m afraid you wouldn’t get anywhere with this. I’m not entirely sure the other party will either. Some lawyers might say you stand a chance and urge you to go through with this but, in good conscience, I couldn’t take your money on a case you are sure to lose. Is there no way you can come to an agreement with her?”
“Believe me, I’m trying,” I mutter. “I appreciate your time, and your honesty. I guess I knew this would be the outcome. I just wanted to check.”
“I could suggest mediation.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” I say, slapping my thighs and getting to my feet. We shake hands and I head out, feeling even more dejected than ever. I could fucking kill Acer. If the asshole wasn’t already dead. I still have no clue why he did this. Trying to force Elle back to Mystic was never going to work.
Periodically, over the years, I tried to encourage him to reach out. I hated to see how miserable he was, knowing if he actually took the time, showed her he cared. There was still a fundamental part of Elle that couldn’t turn him away. If he’d only tried.
Friday morning is more of the same, another six hours out on the boat. We get a great catch today, but it doesn’t bolster my mood because the guys keep asking what is happening. And I don’t have any answers for them. I haven’t heard from Elle or tried to contact her, but I know she is still in town.
I decide to take the bull by the horns once I’ve cleaned up. I grab Jedi’s leash and head out, my dog yipping and prancing along beside me, dialing her number as I walk.
“Hey,” she answers. “I was going to call today.”
“Yeah?”
“We still have things to figure out. We can’t keep putting it off.”
I don’t like how she sounds, like she’s resigned to some decision. “I can meet now, if you’re free?”
“I actually was planning ongoing to dads.”
“Really?” Dawn told me she’d been freaked out about going to Acer’s. My mouth works before my brain engages. “I could come along, I mean, if there is anything you need help with?”
After a brief silence, she agrees. I let her know my dog is along with me, but he’ll be fine in Acer’s yard. She’s surprised to learn I have a dog and actually sounds brighter at the prospect of meeting him than seeing me. We arrange to meet at the house in twenty minutes.
I don’t bother going back for the car, and Jedi is beside himself at the long walk, although he hates being on the leash. Elle’s car is outside the house when I arrive, and I’m surprised to see she is still sitting inside it. She’s on a call, but I wonder why she didn’t just go inside. I wave to let her know I’m here and she nods, then quickly ends the call.
She climbs out, wearing skin-tight black jeans with bright white sneakers. She has on a loose T-shirt, but it is tied at her hip so raises slightly, showing off the toned skin of her stomach as she lifts her sunglasses onto the top of her head.
Immediately, her attention goes to Jedi, and he’s just as happy to meet her. He jumps all over her and for the first time in years, I hear a genuine Elle laugh burst from her lips.
“Jedi, down,” I command, and he drops and sits in front of Elle.
“Oh my God, he is so cute,” she scratches behind his ears, finally looking at me. “Jedi?” she smirks.