Free Binding Arbitration by Elizabeth Marx Page A

sick.” I tried to rub the ache out of my neck. “She’s a criminal defense attorney.”
    “I know.” David scratched at his collar. “I shuttled attorneys from her firm to a Christmas party. She ignored me.”
    “Well, you used to call her Little Libby Nobody.”
    “I didn’t say I didn’t deserve it. I was an ass. I knew as much about women then as I did about making the dean’s list.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me you’d seen her?”
    “I tried to hint around about it but once you were engaged, I didn’t want to interfere.”
    “Aren’t best friends supposed to?”
    “My Granny taught me, if you don’t have anything nice to say, shut your pie hole.”
    9 a.m.
    I slipped into the BMW 645 rental, put the top down and made my way onto the freeway. One of the things I loved about California was the cars: Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Porsches, and Bentleys stretched across the landscape.
    I didn’t know for sure, but I assumed Vanessa would be at the Ritz. I preferred the St. Regis Hotel for the character and history, but my fiancée thought the most expensive equaled the best. Plus, her family owned it.
    Vanessa’s celebrity wasn’t birthed through education, hard work and ambition. It flowed through boarding schools, Swiss bank accounts and largesse. Vanessa vaulted to the media’s attention through calculated planning, publicity and public outbursts. It didn’t hurt that her father was one of the richest men in the world, owning Hotels that spanned the globe from Bangkok to Bolivia.
    But she was going to be Daddy’s problem again. I had been working through this decision before I knew about Cass, but with the reality of him everything else seemed to crystallize on fast forward. There was no way I would be able to devote myself to establishing a relationship with him, if I had to babysit a spoiled grown up.
    I pulled up on Stockton Street under the columned pediment which would have been better displayed on the mall in D.C. than wasted on a hotel. The valet opened my door, “Hey, you’re Palowski, on the Cubs, right?”
    “That’s me.” I handed him a fifty-dollar bill. “Do me a favor, don’t garage my car. I won’t be long. An hour tops.”
    The front desk rang Vanessa’s room; I heard Melinda on the line, and Vanessa screaming in the background: “Who’s calling so early in the morning?”
    As if this was the predawn hour, I thought as the elevator jolted to a halt on the seventh floor. Her assistant met me at the door. She was dressed and ready for the day.
    “Why don’t you take the beasts down to The Terrace, and have breakfast on me?” I waved some bills toward her.
    “Maybe she’ll feel better when you’re done with her.”
    “Don’t count on it. It’s not that kind of tete-a-tete .”
    She didn’t seem panicked. “Are you breaking your engagement?” She asked curiously, before she smiled. “I quit. Give me one minute to grab my bags. Nothing could get me to come back knowing that. I’ll leave the canines at the front desk.”
    “That bad, huh?”
    “You have no earthly idea.” She dumped what was left of her toiletries into a carry on.
    “Call David to pick you up when you get back to Chicago.”
    “If you think… The only things she takes lying down are those that please her.” She bit her lips and I wondered what other revelations she was keeping to herself.
    But I didn’t have time to ask, I was mentally preparing for a woman-made earthquake. This wasn’t going to go down smoothly, but I hoped I wasn’t going to have to refurbish the room.
    The darkened suite was eerily quiet when I knocked on the bedroom door. I turned the knob, surprised it wasn’t locked. I made my way to the windows and pulled one side of the black-out panels back to illuminate the luxurious cavern.
    “I don’t care if the King of Prussia is here!” She shrieked from behind her silk eye mask. “Revoke him from my room.”
    This is what I reap for giving her a vocabulary builder. I sat