Fic: Five Times Emmet Didn't Meet Elle (Legally Blonde, 2/5)
TITLE: Five Times Emmett Didn’t Meet Elle
AUTHOR: empressearwig
PAIRING: Emmett/Elle, with mentions of Elle/Warner and Warner/Vivienne
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: What if Elle hadn’t ended up at Harvard Law…
DISCLAIMER: The characters of the Legally Blonde: The Musical belong to their owner. No copyright infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to normative_jean for reading this first.
Part 2: Just Like The Kennedy’s
“Elle Huntington,” his secretary announced, ushering his newest prospective client through the office door.
Emmett rose from behind the desk, crossing in front to shake her hand. “Emmett Forrest, Mrs. Huntington. It’s nice to meet you.”
She returned his handshake. “Elle, please.”
He gestured towards one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat.” Seating himself behind the desk once more, he asked, “Can I have Mary get you anything? Coffee, tea, water?”
“No, thank you,” Elle answered, crossing her hands in her lap.
“Thanks, Mary, that’ll be all then.” Emmett dismissed the woman hovering in the doorway. “Hold my calls, and please close the door behind you.”
Silently, the woman slipped out of the room, the sound of the door shutting the only trace of her presence.
Emmett turned to face the woman across from him. He knew who she was, of course. The wife of the newly elected senator from Massachusetts, she’d been all over the news for months. She, her husband, and their three children had seemed the very model of the perfect modern family.
Still, with her now sitting in his office, that had obviously been a carefully created image.
He studied her carefully for a moment. Though he knew her to be in her late thirties, he’d have put her age closer to thirty than forty, obviously through the gift of good genes and careful upkeep. Years of representing the wealthy had taught him the difference between that, and the artificial. Her blonde hair fell softly into a gently bob, framing her face. The black pinstriped suit she wore was carefully tailored, and she would have looked every inch the Boston society matron, if not for the fact that the pinstripe was a subtle pink, echoed in the shell she wore beneath her jacket. The ostentatious diamond rings on her left hand looked too big for her delicate hands, and they seemed to make her uncomfortable, as she twisted them back and forth on her finger.
“Do I have something in my teeth?”
The surprisingly wry voice startled Emmett back to alertness. He straightened in his chair. “I’m sorry, I was staring wasn’t I?” He shook his head slightly. “You don’t look like I expected you to, is all.”
Elle arched an eyebrow. “And you did you expect me to look, Mr. Forrest?” Her voice betrayed her image as a Boston Brahmin. Despite her years in the east, the sound of southern California still lingered, giving her a unique tone.
He gestured slightly towards her. “During the campaign you were always wearing stuffy suits.” Seeing her about to protest, he added quickly, “Stylish, but stuffy. The woman in those pictures wouldn’t be wearing something like what you have on today.”
A frown crossed her face. “Are we here to discuss my wardrobe or your legal services?” She asked tartly.
“I don’t see why we can’t do both, but I apologize for the commentary.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Now, why did you come to see me today Mrs. Huntington?”
She shifted uncomfortably, and didn’t quite meet his eyes, as she answered, “I would have thought that was obvious, Mr. Forrest. And please, call me Elle.”
Emmett smiled gently. “I think you’ll find that it’s best if I don’t make any assumptions when it comes to legal matters, Elle.” Again, he asked, “So why did you come see me today?”
“I suppose that makes sense,” she murmured, seemingly to herself. She squared her shoulders, and looked him straight in the eye. “I’ve come to seek your advice on obtaining a divorce from my husband.” Her voice was calm and collected as she spoke, the only outward indicators of how difficult the words she spoke were a flush to her cheeks and the continued worrying of her rings.
Inwardly, Emmett’s respect for her grew every moment their meeting continued. He leaned forward to pick up a legal pad and pen. “May I take notes while we continue talking?” He asked. Seeing her nod of assent, he poised the pen over the pad. “How long have you been married?”
“Fourteen years.”
He wrote that down. “You have three children, correct?”
Elle nodded.
“Names and ages?”
“Full names, or what we call them?”
Emmett smiled slightly, trying to reassure her. “How about both? And try to relax Elle, I’m going to make this as painless as possible, I promise.”
She tried to smile back. “The oldest is Warner Booth IV, and we call him Booth. He’s 10. Our daughter, Eleanor Vivienne or Evie, is 8. And John Woods is three. He goes by Jack.”
“I remember seeing pictures of them during the campaign. You have beautiful children, Elle.”
A genuine smile appeared on her face. “Thank you. They’re the most important thing in the world to me.”
“Can I assume you’re going to want primary physical custody of the children, then?”
For the first time, a hint of amusement appeared in Elle’s voice. “I thought you didn’t make assumptions, Mr. Forrest.”
Emmett laughed. “Touché. Please, call me Emmett, or I’ll revert to calling you Mrs. Huntington,” he gently teased. Turning more sober, he said, “I’ll rephrase. Do you want primary physical custody of your children?”
“Alright, Emmett.” She paused. “Primary custody of the children is the only thing that I really want out of this divorce.”
He smiled. “Do you think that would be an issue? I mean, is the Senator going to fight you on that?”
Elle considered briefly. “I don’t think so. Whatever Warner’s flaws as a husband, he does want what is best for our children, and he has to realize his new job isn’t going to be conducive to being a single father, no matter how good that might look to the voters.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” Shifting directions, he asked, “Did you and your husband sign a prenuptial agreement?”
Elle leaned down and drew a sheaf of papers from her bag. Handing them across the desk, she said, “We did, and I took the liberty of bringing a copy for you with me.”
Emmett accepted the papers. He glanced at them briefly before setting them on the desk. “I’ll look these over more thoroughly later. I assume there’s nothing out of the ordinary in them?”
Elle shook her head. “If I recall correctly, we each retain the assets we brought into the marriage, as well as any inheritances we may have received during the course of the marriage. All other assets were to be divided equally.”
“That all sounds normal enough.” He paused briefly, before asking as gently as possible, “Elle, why do you want a divorce?”
She frowned. “Do you have to know that? I was under the impression that Massachusetts offered no-fault divorces?”
“It does,” he explained quickly, “But in order to obtain one, you and the Senator would need to separate for 18 months before a divorce could be granted. We can certainly go that route if you like, but it’s not the most expedient method to obtaining a divorce.”
“Oh,” Elle said. Slowly, she asked, “What is the quickest way?”
“Adultery,” Emmett answered. He saw her face tighten briefly. “In adultery cases there is no waiting period before a suit can be brought. Of course, a case in which adultery is charged is far messier, and potentially more harmful to your children, especially Booth and Evie.”
A long uncomfortable silence lingered. Emmett stared at Elle, and Elle stared down at her wedding rings.
Finally, she looked up. “This stays between us, correct? Attorney client privilege and all that?”
Emmett nodded.
Elle took a deep, shuddering breath. Speaking very softly, she said, “For the past six months, my husband has been having an affair. It’s not the first, and I’m certain it won’t be the last, but I can’t live with it any longer. I stayed, I helped him campaign, now I’m done.”
She looked up and met Emmett’s eyes. In them, she saw a mixture of pity, understanding, and to her surprise, respect.
Elle let out a sigh of relief. “It feels good to finally say that out loud. To finally tell someone.”
Emmett smiled slightly, in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “I’m glad I could help.” He turned more serious. “Elle, I have to ask. Do you know with who?”
She laughed bitterly. “As a matter of fact, I do.” She shook her head. “See, he didn’t pick a random floozy this time. This time, he picked one of our closest friends.” She paused. “Do I have to give you the name right now?”
“No,” Emmett said. “That you know is enough, at least if you opt to go this route.” He hesitated. “I really don’t want to ask this, but it’s relevant and it would come up in court. Have you and your husband been intimate since you learned of the affair?”
Elle stared. “Are you asking me what I think you’re asking?”
Emmett coughed slightly. “I am. It’s an awkward question, I know.”
“How on earth is that relevant?” Elle questioned.
“In the eyes of the court,” Emmett explained, “If you continue to live together and remain intimate, despite knowledge of an affair, you have essentially condoned the behavior.”
Elle continued to stare incredulously. Finally, she dropped her gaze to her lap, and a flush broke out on her cheeks. She said softly, “Well, then the answer is no.”
She kept her eyes on her lap, and missed the look of surprise and heat that flashed in Emmett’s eyes.
He schooled his voice to a more neutral tone, and did his best to conceal any reaction his face might have betrayed. “Thank you for answering.” Genuinely, he added, “I’m sorry I had to ask at all.”
Still pink, Elle looked up and said, “No, I understand.” She looked down at her watch. “Are we about done for now? I need to pick up my daughter from school and take her to her ballet class.”
Emmett glanced at the clock. “Obviously there’s more we’ll need to discuss, but I think I’ve gotten most of the information I’d need to get started.” He rose. “I’ll examine the prenup to see what we’re dealing with, then start mapping out potential strategies for you.”
Elle stood as well. “Is there anything I should be doing in the meantime?”
“Think about what I said. Gather together all of your financial records.” He placed his hand on the small of her back, and ushered her towards the door.
He walked her out to the reception are, and shook her hand, watching her rush off to what was left of her life.
Slowly he made his way back to his office. He sat down and stared at the spot where she’d been sitting only minutes before.
He caught the lingering scent of her perfume and inhaled deeply.
For the rest of the afternoon, he found it almost impossible to concentrate on anything else.
AUTHOR: empressearwig
PAIRING: Emmett/Elle, with mentions of Elle/Warner and Warner/Vivienne
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: What if Elle hadn’t ended up at Harvard Law…
DISCLAIMER: The characters of the Legally Blonde: The Musical belong to their owner. No copyright infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to normative_jean for reading this first.
Part 2: Just Like The Kennedy’s
“Elle Huntington,” his secretary announced, ushering his newest prospective client through the office door.
Emmett rose from behind the desk, crossing in front to shake her hand. “Emmett Forrest, Mrs. Huntington. It’s nice to meet you.”
She returned his handshake. “Elle, please.”
He gestured towards one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat.” Seating himself behind the desk once more, he asked, “Can I have Mary get you anything? Coffee, tea, water?”
“No, thank you,” Elle answered, crossing her hands in her lap.
“Thanks, Mary, that’ll be all then.” Emmett dismissed the woman hovering in the doorway. “Hold my calls, and please close the door behind you.”
Silently, the woman slipped out of the room, the sound of the door shutting the only trace of her presence.
Emmett turned to face the woman across from him. He knew who she was, of course. The wife of the newly elected senator from Massachusetts, she’d been all over the news for months. She, her husband, and their three children had seemed the very model of the perfect modern family.
Still, with her now sitting in his office, that had obviously been a carefully created image.
He studied her carefully for a moment. Though he knew her to be in her late thirties, he’d have put her age closer to thirty than forty, obviously through the gift of good genes and careful upkeep. Years of representing the wealthy had taught him the difference between that, and the artificial. Her blonde hair fell softly into a gently bob, framing her face. The black pinstriped suit she wore was carefully tailored, and she would have looked every inch the Boston society matron, if not for the fact that the pinstripe was a subtle pink, echoed in the shell she wore beneath her jacket. The ostentatious diamond rings on her left hand looked too big for her delicate hands, and they seemed to make her uncomfortable, as she twisted them back and forth on her finger.
“Do I have something in my teeth?”
The surprisingly wry voice startled Emmett back to alertness. He straightened in his chair. “I’m sorry, I was staring wasn’t I?” He shook his head slightly. “You don’t look like I expected you to, is all.”
Elle arched an eyebrow. “And you did you expect me to look, Mr. Forrest?” Her voice betrayed her image as a Boston Brahmin. Despite her years in the east, the sound of southern California still lingered, giving her a unique tone.
He gestured slightly towards her. “During the campaign you were always wearing stuffy suits.” Seeing her about to protest, he added quickly, “Stylish, but stuffy. The woman in those pictures wouldn’t be wearing something like what you have on today.”
A frown crossed her face. “Are we here to discuss my wardrobe or your legal services?” She asked tartly.
“I don’t see why we can’t do both, but I apologize for the commentary.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Now, why did you come to see me today Mrs. Huntington?”
She shifted uncomfortably, and didn’t quite meet his eyes, as she answered, “I would have thought that was obvious, Mr. Forrest. And please, call me Elle.”
Emmett smiled gently. “I think you’ll find that it’s best if I don’t make any assumptions when it comes to legal matters, Elle.” Again, he asked, “So why did you come see me today?”
“I suppose that makes sense,” she murmured, seemingly to herself. She squared her shoulders, and looked him straight in the eye. “I’ve come to seek your advice on obtaining a divorce from my husband.” Her voice was calm and collected as she spoke, the only outward indicators of how difficult the words she spoke were a flush to her cheeks and the continued worrying of her rings.
Inwardly, Emmett’s respect for her grew every moment their meeting continued. He leaned forward to pick up a legal pad and pen. “May I take notes while we continue talking?” He asked. Seeing her nod of assent, he poised the pen over the pad. “How long have you been married?”
“Fourteen years.”
He wrote that down. “You have three children, correct?”
Elle nodded.
“Names and ages?”
“Full names, or what we call them?”
Emmett smiled slightly, trying to reassure her. “How about both? And try to relax Elle, I’m going to make this as painless as possible, I promise.”
She tried to smile back. “The oldest is Warner Booth IV, and we call him Booth. He’s 10. Our daughter, Eleanor Vivienne or Evie, is 8. And John Woods is three. He goes by Jack.”
“I remember seeing pictures of them during the campaign. You have beautiful children, Elle.”
A genuine smile appeared on her face. “Thank you. They’re the most important thing in the world to me.”
“Can I assume you’re going to want primary physical custody of the children, then?”
For the first time, a hint of amusement appeared in Elle’s voice. “I thought you didn’t make assumptions, Mr. Forrest.”
Emmett laughed. “Touché. Please, call me Emmett, or I’ll revert to calling you Mrs. Huntington,” he gently teased. Turning more sober, he said, “I’ll rephrase. Do you want primary physical custody of your children?”
“Alright, Emmett.” She paused. “Primary custody of the children is the only thing that I really want out of this divorce.”
He smiled. “Do you think that would be an issue? I mean, is the Senator going to fight you on that?”
Elle considered briefly. “I don’t think so. Whatever Warner’s flaws as a husband, he does want what is best for our children, and he has to realize his new job isn’t going to be conducive to being a single father, no matter how good that might look to the voters.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” Shifting directions, he asked, “Did you and your husband sign a prenuptial agreement?”
Elle leaned down and drew a sheaf of papers from her bag. Handing them across the desk, she said, “We did, and I took the liberty of bringing a copy for you with me.”
Emmett accepted the papers. He glanced at them briefly before setting them on the desk. “I’ll look these over more thoroughly later. I assume there’s nothing out of the ordinary in them?”
Elle shook her head. “If I recall correctly, we each retain the assets we brought into the marriage, as well as any inheritances we may have received during the course of the marriage. All other assets were to be divided equally.”
“That all sounds normal enough.” He paused briefly, before asking as gently as possible, “Elle, why do you want a divorce?”
She frowned. “Do you have to know that? I was under the impression that Massachusetts offered no-fault divorces?”
“It does,” he explained quickly, “But in order to obtain one, you and the Senator would need to separate for 18 months before a divorce could be granted. We can certainly go that route if you like, but it’s not the most expedient method to obtaining a divorce.”
“Oh,” Elle said. Slowly, she asked, “What is the quickest way?”
“Adultery,” Emmett answered. He saw her face tighten briefly. “In adultery cases there is no waiting period before a suit can be brought. Of course, a case in which adultery is charged is far messier, and potentially more harmful to your children, especially Booth and Evie.”
A long uncomfortable silence lingered. Emmett stared at Elle, and Elle stared down at her wedding rings.
Finally, she looked up. “This stays between us, correct? Attorney client privilege and all that?”
Emmett nodded.
Elle took a deep, shuddering breath. Speaking very softly, she said, “For the past six months, my husband has been having an affair. It’s not the first, and I’m certain it won’t be the last, but I can’t live with it any longer. I stayed, I helped him campaign, now I’m done.”
She looked up and met Emmett’s eyes. In them, she saw a mixture of pity, understanding, and to her surprise, respect.
Elle let out a sigh of relief. “It feels good to finally say that out loud. To finally tell someone.”
Emmett smiled slightly, in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “I’m glad I could help.” He turned more serious. “Elle, I have to ask. Do you know with who?”
She laughed bitterly. “As a matter of fact, I do.” She shook her head. “See, he didn’t pick a random floozy this time. This time, he picked one of our closest friends.” She paused. “Do I have to give you the name right now?”
“No,” Emmett said. “That you know is enough, at least if you opt to go this route.” He hesitated. “I really don’t want to ask this, but it’s relevant and it would come up in court. Have you and your husband been intimate since you learned of the affair?”
Elle stared. “Are you asking me what I think you’re asking?”
Emmett coughed slightly. “I am. It’s an awkward question, I know.”
“How on earth is that relevant?” Elle questioned.
“In the eyes of the court,” Emmett explained, “If you continue to live together and remain intimate, despite knowledge of an affair, you have essentially condoned the behavior.”
Elle continued to stare incredulously. Finally, she dropped her gaze to her lap, and a flush broke out on her cheeks. She said softly, “Well, then the answer is no.”
She kept her eyes on her lap, and missed the look of surprise and heat that flashed in Emmett’s eyes.
He schooled his voice to a more neutral tone, and did his best to conceal any reaction his face might have betrayed. “Thank you for answering.” Genuinely, he added, “I’m sorry I had to ask at all.”
Still pink, Elle looked up and said, “No, I understand.” She looked down at her watch. “Are we about done for now? I need to pick up my daughter from school and take her to her ballet class.”
Emmett glanced at the clock. “Obviously there’s more we’ll need to discuss, but I think I’ve gotten most of the information I’d need to get started.” He rose. “I’ll examine the prenup to see what we’re dealing with, then start mapping out potential strategies for you.”
Elle stood as well. “Is there anything I should be doing in the meantime?”
“Think about what I said. Gather together all of your financial records.” He placed his hand on the small of her back, and ushered her towards the door.
He walked her out to the reception are, and shook her hand, watching her rush off to what was left of her life.
Slowly he made his way back to his office. He sat down and stared at the spot where she’d been sitting only minutes before.
He caught the lingering scent of her perfume and inhaled deeply.
For the rest of the afternoon, he found it almost impossible to concentrate on anything else.