“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?”