Addison sighed, long and slow. “Other than trying to keep me in a marriage I no longer want to be in, no.”
Tom Bradbury stood abruptly and walked over to a mini bar in the corner of the room. “May I pour you a drink, Mrs. Greyer?”
“No. Thank you.”
“Well, I hope you won’t mind if I have one myself,” he stated as Addison watched him toss the amber liquid back. “Here’s the deal,” the attorney continued. “I’m going to be blatantly honest with you. If you refuse to follow the advice I give you, I don’t think you stand a chance of getting anything in this divorce, maybe not even your children. For one, you’ve admitted to being unfaithful. Hell, it’s been splashed all over the media. You’re currently about to take the stand in a trial which suggests that you’re into some— what are they calling
