Billionaire Secrets of a Wanglorious Bastard

by Auld, Alexei

After working all day, I dropped off a thick pile of papers on Stack's chair.

  I went to my office, stumbling from being worn down. I turned off my computer, and as soon as I was about to leave, my phone rang. I leered at it and was relieve to see the LCD screen read “OUTSIDE CALL.” I picked up

  “Hello?”

  I should have never picked it up.

  33

  IT WAS STACK. I had to do more work. Some emergency assignment. I called Rhage but she wasn't at home. I would've called her cell phone, if she had a cell phone. She didn't want the phone waves affecting her creative brain waves. Seemed bogus, but whatever. I called the restaurant and left a message that I was running late and would be there as soon as I possibly could.

  Then I typed like a fiend, writing a memo from hell while frantically looking at a wall clock.

  I hurriedly retrieved a printout then saw a typo. And realized I needed to do more research.

  About two hours later, I was finished. I dropped the memo on Stack's empty chair, left the office, and then returned. More typos.

  I typed like a man possessed and dropped a new report before dashing out.

  The waiter took me to our table. It was filled with empty dishes and sake bottles. No Rhage.

  The waiter said, “Will you be paying cash or charge?”

  Rhage wasn't home either. I slept alone. And woke up the same way.

  34

  “WHY'D YOU ANSWER the phone?”

  That was Sif. At the coffee shop. “It said outside call. How was I supposed to know that Stack would be calling?”

  “I'm sorry, I forgot the drill. You're on call all day.” She refilled my cup. With decaf. “The lifestyle isn't for everyone. You ever think of doing something else?”

  “I'm not going to give up just because of a missed birthday and the makeup for the missed birthday.”

  “You're not going to give up, but what about her? This isn't a fluke, Rufus.”

  “I can tell the partners further in advance in the future, so I can plan.”

  “That's what James thought.”

  “James?”

  “It was his anniversary and his wife called two months in advance to tell Stack of a surprise party. Two months later at the party, James was nowhere to be found. Stack arrived and helped himself to punch and cake.”

  “Did Stack know where James was?”

  “Of course. James was back in his office working on an assignment Stack gave him that day. After his wife found out, we all filed out giving our sympathy.”

  “What about Stack?”

  “He had a second helping of cake. The fucked-up thing? James had no idea his wife planned a surprise party. She didn't have the heart to tell him. The next week, he found out and didn't know what to do. Curse out Stack and lose his job and default on his mortgage or keep his job and spit on his marriage?”

  “What did he do?”

  “The next best thing. Had a nervous breakdown.”

  I choked on coffee.

  “You okay?”

  I wasn't, but I nodded.

  “The job's no joke, Rufus. Time is money. Your ass belongs to them. Not to your honey. Not to your mama. Not to yourself. And the sooner you realize that, the sooner you can deal honestly with the choices you make.”

  I made a choice, all right. I sent Rhage flowers, candy, balloons, and a huge teddy bear with a beret and painter's easel.

  35

  “FEELING BETTER?”

  I was. We were in Enos's office for a sushi lunch. Me, Tani, and Enos. “I don't know, Tani.”

  “How come?”

  “I was talking to this woman who worked here and—”

  “What girl is that?”

  “Sif Sanchez.”

  Enos said, “Sif Sanchez? As in Dead-end Sif?”

  I said, “Dead-end?”

  Tani said, “She was my hero.”

  “A hero for you?”

  “Or heroine.”

  “I prefer she-ro.”

  Enos nibbled at his volcano roll. “She embezzled funds from our clients.”

  “Embezzled?”

  Tani said, “That's not what I'd call it.”

  Enos nearly choked on a piece of sashimi. “She stole money from a client. Can you imagine? She's lucky she wasn't disbarred.”

  Tani said, “Even after all the things that came out about her. The things she did. Man.”

  I said, “Things like what?”

  Enos said, “Porking a partner's wife.”

  Say what?

  Enos guzzled plum wine. “That could've been someone else's spot. And to think of all the money they spent training her.”

  Tani clapped his hands. “Sweet.”

  Speaking of sweet, when I went home that night, the candy, balloons, and teddy bear lay outside my apartment door. I thought the delivery person must have left it.

  When I opened the door, I found out otherwise.

  36

  “I'VE PUT UP with more than most people would, you know? You're a lawyer and you work tough hours, so what?”

  “I want to be with you, Rhage.”

  “Actions, not words, Rufus. That's what matters.”

  “What about that job I told you about?”

  “As a secretary?”

  “Paralegal, not secretarial. You know that.”

  “Yeah. I know they get treated like shit, too. So what?”

  “We could be together.”

  “And miserable.”

  I took her hand. “Come on, baby. We'd have late hours together. Alone. Just me and you.”

  She smirked. “Just me and you?”

  Got her. I grinned. “You don't know how freaky an office can be.”

  She pulled her hand away. “Isn't that against firm rules?”

  “What?”

  “Office romances.”

  “No. They happen all the time.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I mean, people spend more time with their secretaries than with—”

  “Their girlfriends?”

  “You know that's not what I meant.”

  “No? Then what did you mean? For all I know, you could be fucking your secretary.”

  “You're tripping.”

  “Look, I can't take this anymore.” She got up to leave. “And I can't believe you.”

  “Rhage.”

  “I'm an artist, okay? My work depends on clarity of thought. Vision. I can't be bogged down with materialism, capitalism, or any other -ism which distracts me from my art.”

  “But—”

  “Your suggestions are offensive. You're the breadwinner, not me. You're the capitalist, I'm the artist. And if you can't deal, we are over.”

  37

  “I CAN'T BELIEVE you slipped like that.”

  I wish Enos would slip on the wet bar floor. I fucked with the salt shaker.

  “Office romances? You never tell your girl about that.”

  I pulled out some napkins from a dispenser.

  “All firm relationships are doomed. So now you know and can focus on Rita.”

  “If you like her so much, Enos, why don't you hook up with her?”

  “It's against my principles.”

  “Principles? You?”

  “As a point guard, it's my job to set plays and distribute the rock to my teammates so they can score. I'll take a shot now and then, but I can't take 'em all.”

  “Whatever.”

  “You're a just another law firm romance casualty.”

  “Maybe I should've—”

  “Should've, would've, could've. What can you do? Romantic dinners on speakerphone? Her at home and you at work eating different meals at the same time, while music plays in the background?”

  “That does sound sweet.”

  “That's crap. It's fake.”

  “It shows thought. Something you'd never know, Enos.”

  He sucked his teeth.

  The bartender leaned in to us. “We don't have the time we used to, b
ut it's how we use the time we do have. That's where the little things add up.”

  I said, “Thanks for making me feel so much better.” I stood up. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to kill myself.”

  As I left, Enos followed.

  I said, “Can't you leave me alone?”

  “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—”

  “Didn't mean what? To tell the truth?”

  “Look, cuz.”

  “Look, I have some unfinished business to do.”

  “Can I walk you to a cab at least?”

  “No. You go back to work. I'm just making a quick stop.”

  38

  “I KNOW IT'S been long since you've had our latte, but damn.”

  “Sit down, Sif.”

  “Okay, let me just—”

  “Now.”

  Her “man” came out of the kitchen. Sif waved him away and sat.

  I said, “You haven't been honest with me.”

  “Honest about what?”

  “You know, your affinity for cheating, lying, porking.”

  “Porking?”

  “Don't play dumb.”

  “I honestly have no idea what you're talking about.”

  “Stealing clients’ money? Harassing a partner's wife?”

  “Who told you these things?”

  “Does it really matter?”

  “You don't believe them, do you?”

  “I don't know what to believe.”

  “I can't believe they got to you.” She got up and started walking away.

  “Don't you walk away.”

  “Don't you tell me what to do.”

  “I'm not telling you what to do. I'm merely making a suggestion.”

  “What do you want?”

  “An answer? A denial? For you to admit it?”

  She started to walk away again. I popped up.

  “Sif, I'm talking to you.”

  “About what? Huh? You know, I'm not even going to bother.”

  39

  “RHAGE? IT'S ME. Don't hang up, please. Look, I've been thinking about us, and you're right. I have been taking you for granted and it's not fair to you.”

  I was so glad she was at home. I was at work at lunch, in what they called a “war room.” Pretty dramatic name for a closet filled with documents for review. She said, “And?”

  “I'm willing to do anything to get you back.”

  “Will you get a male secretary?”

  “Yes.”

  “Rufus, you haven't, you know, since we broke up?”

  “No. It's just me and these documents. All alone. With no one around. It's kind of lonely, you know.”

  “It is?”

  “And I be havin' thoughts.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, baby.”

  Just then, Gladys stumbled in. Her headphones flew into the air and landed on my phone receiver. Sounds of farm fun flooded the air.

  She said, “I can't believe I ripped your briefs.”

  Rhage must have heard. “Who the fuck is that?”

  I said, “It's not what you think.” I tried turning the sound down, but ended up turning it, well, up.

  Gladys tried to help. She waddled to me with tattered papers in hand and said, “I guess I didn't know my own strength—”

  Rhage heard that too. “What's going on?”

  Gladys said, “I guess I was too excited.”

  “Hello? Rhage?” She hung up.

  “I guess I should've knocked, huh?”

  ***

  It rained buckets as I scrambled to a cab. One finally stopped.

  “Where to?”

  “To save my relationship.”

  40

  SOAKING WET, I dripped down a hallway carrying a signed copy of Her's and Him's first comic book appearance. I hoped it would summon memories of what brought us together.

  ***

  We’d attended a comic con together when things were better between the two of us. I was dressed as Him. She was dressed as Her. Him, being the golden badass Adam Warlock. Her, being the golden goddess just known as, well, Goddess or Kismet, which is what it was when we met. Like Warlock emerging from the cocoon, Rhage made me a man. I have to admit, it was pretty underwhelming when we first did it. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, it's just all that fireworks and magic once virginity is lost just didn't happen. In fact, things got progressively worse each time we did it. She'd just lie there, like a corpse. Not that I've done it with a corpse, and I'm not suggesting she was cold down there; I mean, she was cold, but not cadaver cold, if you know what I mean. Anyway, she'd just lie there. And when I was done, she'd turn to her side and ball up in a fetal position. She never wanted to talk about it. She still didn’t. I mean, we hadn't done it in a while. I didn't know if it was a reflection of my skills, or lack thereof. Or maybe hers? It reminded me of Billy Bob saying boning who the world considered to be the most beautiful woman could be as boring as doing your couch. I'm not trying to objectify my woman, but I was beginning to see what he meant. The weird thing was that masturbation made me feel guilty enough. Hooking up with my girlfriend shouldn't give me more guilt that that. Or be less pleasurable.

  Anyway, maybe it was me. Maybe I was wack in the sack and she didn't have the heart to tell me. And I wasn't sure I wanted to know. Who would? Maybe I should've ended up going into the ministry like my folks suggested and become a monk. Would my law school forgive my loans? Maybe it was something to think about. So much for ending up like my grandpa. That would be the end of it. Not like it ever began.

  ***

  Outside of our apartment, I also held a card that read “TO MY PERFECT WHOLE.” It was my spin on “perfect half,” get it? I took a deep breath and wiped my wet brow.

  And heard guttural grunts bellow through the hallway, accompanied by oinking.

  Was Gladys up in this piece?

  As I made my way to my apartment, animal growls reverberated through the door. Bamboozled, I placed my ear to the door.

  “Rhage?”

  I scrambled through my pockets and fumbled with a key. I unlocked the door, and as I opened it, a whip cracked. I bugged out and dropped the comic, which crashed on the floor.

  What I saw could not be repeated. What I saw should not be remembered. What I saw made me realize that the woman I thought I knew was something entirely different.

  If I wrote what I'd seen, this book would need a brown wrapper.

  I needed somewhere to go to clear my head.

  41

  I TOOK NOTES as Gropius lectured.

  I said, “So you want all the jurisdictions?”

  “Yes. We generally update the memo every few months. I'll send you the email we've recycled for years explaining the parameters of the assignment.”

  “How long should it take?”

  “No more than a few hours.”

  “Okay.”

  “Also, I want you to be in your office at lunch so you can receive a faxed brief we need you to edit by tomorrow at nine.”

  “Do I turn it in to you?”

  “No, you just fax it back to the number you see attached to the brief. Understood?”

  Yes.

  Back in my office, I read an email from Gropius and conducted research online.

  Then I did the research that I won't bore you by mentioning, until I received a fax on her desk and read it.

  Turned out I was doing the wrong thing. And to make it right, I worked throughout the night and fell asleep at my desk.

  The custodian's vacuum cleaner woke me up.

  I scrambled with a cart filled with books back to the library and then returned to my office, typing with fury. When finished printing, I faxed my masterpiece and went back to sleep at my desk. This time an email notification woke me up. I wiped the drool from my mouth and scanned a message from Gropius that read “GREAT JOB! SEND ME THE UPDATED MEMO ASAP!”

  I groggily handed a memo to Gropius. “This is it?”

  “I checked the relevan
t cases and shepardized them. Unless something is coming down the pike as we speak, I have all the jurisdictions covered.”

  He thumbed through it. “Looks good. Thanks.” He scanned me. “You look whipped.”

  “I've been here all night.”

  “And billing correctly?”

  “I will, sir.”

  “Good. Take the day off and get some rest. You deserve it.”

  Jackpot. “Thank you, sir.”

  According to my calculations, I didn't need any more hours for the week.

  I went home and it was a mess, with no sign of Rhage or her stuff. I was too tired to change my clothes, so I passed out on my bed.

  42

  “SIT DOWN, RUFUS.”

  I did what Grimes suggested. He was seated next to Stack, across from me in the conference room.

  Grimes said, “Rufus, before I begin, I'd just like to say that everyone in this room is your friend.”

  “I like you guys, too.”

  Grimes said, “I'm going to make this short. At Krueller, we don't tolerate plagiarism in any form.”

  “Plagiarism?”

  He pushed a memo to me across the table. “You were supposed to update this yourself.”

  I scanned the memo. “I did.”

  “Then why is the language the same as in the previous version?”

  “What language?”

  “It doesn't matter.”

  “I think it does. I mean, if I'm being charged with plagiarism, I'd like to at least see where.”

  Stack said, “I told you he'd lie.”

  Lie? “Excuse me?”

  Grimes said, “First Rick, now this.”

  Stack said, “And not a single positive review.”

  Grimes said, “Frankly, we don't think things are working out.”

  I said, “I've had positive reviews. Gropius told me I did a great job.”

  Stack said, “Not according to what he told me a few minutes ago.”