“Yes?”
She stood directly in front of my desk, looking at the scattered papers.
“I was just looking for the restroom. Could you show me where the restroom is?”
“Sure,” I said through clenched teeth, biting back my annoyance.
With every step toward the restroom, I felt her eyes on me, assessing me. I tried convincing myself I was just imagining things. I was nervous, overly cautious, and to be completely honest, I was a little intimidated. Not by her looks, which is what most would assume when they looked at the two of us side by side, but I was intimidated by the fact that she had a part of Joel I’d only caught a glimmer of. Was the Joel who stayed at my house the same one she spent dating for a year? I couldn’t imagine that. He was too…goofy. She seemed…insufferable was the word that came to mind when I looked at her. I turned around to take another glance at the woman who followed behind me. Her smug smile seemed to mock me, and I swore I could see her black eyes looking me up and down as if somehow I didn’t measure up. I stopped at the end of the hall and pointed to the sign advertising restrooms. “Here you are.”
“Thank you,” she said as she continued walking past me. It was one of the least heartfelt thanks I’d ever received, but I was still surprised that she had some modicum of manners left—however insincere they might have been.
When I got back to my desk, I wasn’t seated for more than a few minutes before my phone was ringing again. I growled to myself, thinking it better not be Joel trying to pick up from where he left off. Instead, it was Kerri.
“Hey,” I answered the phone.
“So…did you see her?” Kerri asked like the gossip-mongrel she was. Every bit of news was salacious to her.
“How could I not? She practically had me holding her hand to the restrooms.”
“Get out! Do you think she knows something?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Sarah said she has an attitude every time she calls for Henderson, as if it’s a waste of her time to talk to his E.A.”
“I think ‘bitch’ comes naturally to her. If I weren’t trying to become Junior Partner, I would totally let this case circle the drain. Not that I condone domestic violence or anything.”
“No of course not, but you have to admit, she does deserve a good smacking.”
“Perhaaaaps. Oh, you’ll never believe who called me.”
“Joel.”
“No fair. I made that easy for you.”
“I told you he wasn’t done. What did he say?”
“He wants to meet.”
“I’ll bet. This is probably the longest his push-pop has gone without any action.”
“Push-pop? Really, Kerri?” I said, amazed at how Kerri could make even a children’s ice cream sound perverted. It was surely a gift of hers. I’d never met someone as horny and sex-fueled, especially for someone who hadn’t gotten any in months. It was a regular gripe of hers—told to anyone within earshot, almost on a daily basis. It could probably be considered sexual harassment, except it wasn’t directed at anyone in particular.
“Yeah, don’t act like you weren’t blowing that man like he was the last Popsicle of summer.”
“I’m not going anywhere near that statement. I don’t want to encourage you. You know you’re as bad as he is.”
“So, that’s why you like him? Is it because I have a vagina?”
“Hanging up now.”
“Wait! Don’t. Did you tell him you’d meet him?”
“What do you think?” I said rolling my eyes. Even though she couldn’t see, I knew she could hear the sarcasm squeezed out of every word.
“I think if he were anyone else but our client’s ex you wouldn’t have waited to call him. In fact, I think he’d still be at your house right now waiting for you to come home.”
“But you just said it; he is our client’s ex, and that’s not going to change.”
“Man, for someone who never dates, your love life sure has turned into a Shakespearean play. Or is it a Greek tragedy?”
“Well considering that he’s not my brother or father, I would say it’s not quite a Greek tragedy…unless it turns out I’m adopted, then all bets are off.”
“Well you’ll have to tell me how the story ends. This just looks like the end of Act I.”
“I hope not.”
We hung up the phone, and while I should have hopped back into my work, seeing as how I had gotten so little of it done with the constant interruptions, I couldn’t quite take my mind off of my conversation with Kerri. She would be on my side no matter if I continued to see Joel or not, but I could tell that she didn’t agree with my cutting ties with him. Maybe it was her attempt at living vicariously through me. “At least one of us was getting laid” would most likely be her typical response.
I let my mind drift to thoughts of Joel. What would it be like to go to lunch with him, to be seen on his arm? What did he have to say to me that he couldn’t say over the phone, or was this just a ploy to get me in bed? That seemed more likely. And shouldn’t he be more concerned about his legal problems? Kerri said that his lawyer was playing hardball and chances were they wouldn’t agree to the settlement, which would result in Lara suing him in civil court. He sure didn’t act like a man who was about to be sued by an ex for an amount of money that most Americans wouldn’t see in their lifetimes. He acted like someone who wasn’t used to hearing no, which probably only encouraged him to try harder. I just needed to do the right thing for the both of us and ignore his calls. It shouldn’t be that hard, right?
Chapter Four
It was official. I was losing my mind. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I had overslept, shooting out of bed fifteen minutes after my alarm was supposed to go off. I didn’t remember hitting the snooze button, but it had to have happened twice for me to oversleep that much. I went into hyper-panic mode when I realized I had a half hour to get ready and be at work just to make it on time. With super-sonic speed, I showered, changed, and threw my hair into a bun before hightailing it to the garage so I could get my ass to work.
Careful not to hit my side-view mirrors, I looked out my window, measuring the narrow distance between my car and the wall. I backed out into my driveway, checking my rearview mirrors once more before closing the garage door. It was in those few seconds, with my hand still lingering in the air, when something to my left caught my attention.
My neighbors, Joan and Roger, were an elderly couple who hardly ever drove and almost never had visitors. So you can understand why a pearly white Mercedes S class would give me reason to pause. No one on the block owned a luxury vehicle, and what use would a car such as that have to my little old neighbors?
The car wasn’t ostentatious in any way. The color was simple, without an obnoxious license plate—commonplace for owners of nice cars in Vegas. The tint of the car windows was dark, but upon second glance, it looked like someone was sitting in the driver’s seat.