We could easily fill the remaining thirty minutes stretching out their loving reminiscences, rebuilding the foundation of their marriage on the blocks of their past shared happiness.
That doesn’t interest me, and as important, it’s not an efficient use of our limited time.
Marissa and Matthew walked through my door with a presenting problem: Why did a seemingly perfect relationship fall apart?
Their marriage is a mystery, and my job is to piece together the clues.
But something more is at stake here than simply a relationship in trouble; I just don’t know what yet.
I put down my legal pad and lean back in my chair.
The third session is Escalation. The basic blueprint is the same for all clients, but I change up my methods based on what I sense will provoke my clients at a fundamental level. Matthew is private; I can already tell he’s used to operating on a superficial level, leading with his charm.
I need to strip off that veneer. “Is that why you were late to dinner, Matthew? Because you planned not to go?”
“Wait—what?” Matthew’s eyes narrow and he withdraws his hand from Marissa’s. He recovers quickly from being surprised, which I mentally note but don’t write down. “How do you know that? Were you spying on us?” He’s good at shifting the focus, too, but I’m not going to let him derail my questions.
I smile. “I’m not sure I would phrase it that way exactly.”
Marissa becomes an unexpected ally: “Matthew,” she says pleadingly.
He shakes his head and blows out a breath. “Fine. Yes, as I said at first, I wasn’t sure I had it in me.”
“And then…，” I prompt.
The pause he doesn’t rush to fill means he’s considering what to say next. Which might also mean he’s debating whether to answer honestly.
People tend to extend more trust to individuals who are attractive; studies have proven this. Right now, as I take in Matthew’s athletic body, classic features, and straight white teeth, I wonder how much he has benefited from this advantage. It’s one that his wife must also enjoy.
“And then I decided to meet Marissa, and when I arrived at the restaurant, I got a work call, which further delayed me. I had to stand outside and talk to one of my partners for a few minutes.”
Matthew could be covering himself while appearing to be forthcoming. He’s an intelligent man. He probably deduced that I wouldn’t be observing from a table or booth inside the restaurant because of the risk I’d be spotted, plus there was no guarantee I’d be seated near them. Therefore, he must suspect I’d been watching from outside—which meant I already knew about the phone call.
Not just intelligent, I think. He’s sharp. A man who sees all the angles and can think quickly on his feet.
“A work call on a Saturday night,” I say mildly. “Must have been important.”
“It was.” Matthew bites off the words.
Is he angry at me, or is it simply the call itself that’s causing his abrupt tone?
“Is this about the Coleman account?”
At Marissa’s abrupt question, Matthew’s eyes widen.
Interesting, I think as I watch his body language. He didn’t know she knew.
Marissa has blindsided him again.
Matthew is getting hit with a lot of surprises—first by me, and now his wife—but to his credit, he merely shakes his head no.
Marissa isn’t ready to let it go, however. “I ran into Natalie the other day and she mentioned you lost the client.”
Natalie, again. Why does Matthew’s ex-girlfriend know more about his business troubles than his own wife?
Matthew inhales deeply. “Yes, we lost the account. But it’s not that bad—we’re looking to land two more clients this month.”
It’s important to see how a couple argue—do they fight fair, or are they more focused on being “right” than working through the issue? Does one withdraw while the other flares up （my bet is that Marissa does the former while Matthew does the latter）？
So I turn things up a notch again.
“Marissa, Natalie knew about this before you?” I wince. “Ouch.”
Marissa folds her arms across her body. “I just feel like Matthew has been shutting me out. We haven’t been close in—well, in a while. Yes, I admit it hurts that he confided in Natalie.” Marissa’s perfectly poised, even in the midst of her anger and pain.
“I didn’t tell her.” Matthew looks at me, then turns toward his wife.
“So who did?” I probe.