Beautiful Illusions

by Annie Jocoby

  “In a half hour?”

  “We'll see you then.”

  I was more than surprised. I knew how busy this guy is, and he was going to fit me in within a half hour?

  We headed to his downtown office, which was, just as I expected, one of the high rise jobs. The office was on the 55 Floor. Holding Ryan’s hand so tight that I feared cutting off his circulation, we made our way up to O’Donnell’s office.

  A busty blonde lady in a low-cut silk blouse and fuck-me pumps, wearing more makeup than Tammy Faye Baker in her prime, greeted us. “Hello. You must be Iris.” She eyed Ryan, making no secret that she was mentally undressing him. I inwardly groaned. “And you are?” she asked Ryan.

  “Ryan. Iris’ boyfriend.”

  She raised one eyebrow at me. Lucky girl her eyes said.

  She went back behind the receptionist desk, picked up the phone and called O’Donnell. She looked at me. “He's ready to see you. Let me lead the way.”

  “Thanks.” I looked at Ryan. “I won’t be long.” He looked a bit hurt. I guess that he wanted to be in on this meeting.

  “Good luck, beautiful,” he said with a smile.

  I was led to an exquisite suite with enormous windows that looked out on an expansive view of the city. A 50ish handsome man with greying temples, but a full head of hair, stood up at his desk as I walked in. I admit that I had never actually met this guy before, just knew his reputation. His cases were always out of my league, so we never crossed paths.

  “Iris. Come in, come in.”

  I sat down.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked me.

  I took a deep breath. This was my most audacious request, and I knew that I would be turned down. But I had to try.

  “You have the Rochelle Anderson case.”

  “Yes, about that.” He looked at me sternly. “The reason why I was willing to see you is that I was going to call you anyhow. Then you called me and asked to see me, so it saved me the effort.”

  I had a feeling I knew what was coming.

  “I understand that you went to see her.”

  “Yes, I-“

  “And you represented yourself as her attorney.”

  “Well, no, I-“

  “No? Then how did you get a professional visit with her?”

  “Well, I did represent myself as an attorney, not her attorney.”

  He shook his head. “Don't do that anymore. I don’t want to file a bar complaint against you, after what you went through, but, I swear to god, I will do that if you come within a mile of my client again.”

  I nodded. I admit that I didn’t think it through when I went down there. But he was absolutely right. I was ethically wrong to do what I did, although I wasn’t quite sure exactly how many rules I broke. Probably several.

  “I apologize.”

  His face softened. “It’s ok. I really don’t blame you for doing what you did.” He paused. “But that doesn’t mean that I won’t burn your ass if you do it again. Now, that out of the way, what can I do for you?”

  “I wanted to make a request.”

  “A request.”

  “Yes. I'd like you to withdraw from this case.”

  He gave me a look like right. Ok. Withdraw from the case because?

  “Not going to happen. Anything else?”

  I wasn’t going to back down. “Listen, I know your reputation.” He looked offended. “Hey, it’s a compliment. I know the high profile cases that you have handled. I know about your high profile acquittals.” I drew a deep breath. “You just can’t get this woman acquitted.”

  “Oh? If I'm not mistaken, you were once a public defender.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you gave all your clients a vigorous defense, even if they were guilty as hell.”

  “Well, that was different.”

  “Different how?”

  “I wasn’t a mercenary, going to the highest bidder.”

  “Oh, I see. Because you weren’t charging $500 per hour for your services, somehow you were more noble than me?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Yet you still gave a vigorous defense, looking for every loophole, gunning for every acquittal, knowing that your efforts would put a scumbag back on the street.”

  I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I didn’t know what to say.

  “Did you think about the victims in your cases?”

  I admitted I didn’t.

  “Of course not. It was all a game, right?”

  To my surprise, I was hanging my head now, and crying. I looked up, and his face was impassive. His arms were crossed. He had a box of Kleenex on his desk, but he did not offer me a tissue.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Right?”

  Inwardly, I knew that he was right. But there was a difference – I really wasn’t that good. Not in his league, anyhow. I was an underpaid public employee. Yet, that wasn’t the point. He was absolutely right. Defense attorneys can’t consider present victims, or future victims. It really was a game. Only a job. But now it was real.

  “Please, Mr. O’Donnell. My life will be over if you get that woman acquitted on a technicality.”

  “You are really the biggest hypocrite, aren’t you? It’s fine for you to get criminals acquitted on a technicality, but it all changes when you're the victim.”

  I wasn’t going to get anywhere with this guy. “I'm sorry to have bothered you.”

  He nodded, and pressed the button on his phone. “Alice, could you please show Ms. Snowe out?”

  At that, blondie appeared, out of nowhere. She opened the door, and motioned for me to leave. I obediently obliged.

  I followed her back to the lobby of the office. Ryan stood up, saw my face, and immediately looked concerned. He protectively put his arm around me. I shook my head. “I'll tell you later.”

  He nodded.

  I got out on the street, and burst into tears.

  “Love, what's wrong?”

  I just shook my head, over and over again. “She's going to be acquitted. I just know it.” I was shaking violently. “She'll come after me again. And she'll finish the job.”

  Ryan was looking at the building that we just came out of. “That guy is that good, huh?”

  “You don’t understand. You don’t know the cases that he has won. Impossible cases. If you thought OJ’s Dream Team was amazing, you don’t know this guy.”

  “Hold on. Stay right here.” At that, he went back into the building.

  I stood there, astounded. I was shaking and crying, and he leaves me? This made me sob even more. I sat down on the curb, my head in my hands. I felt abandoned, on top of everything else. A car drove by, too close, and splashed water on my pants. Dirty water. This made me sob even harder. My entire body felt like it was spasming, and I felt nauseated. I dry heaved, having no food in my stomach, as I couldn't eat that day, and it seemed like days since I last had a meal. Still, a little bit of acid came up through my throat, and this made me gag and cry even more.

  Where was Ryan? How could he leave me like this?

  After about a half hour, Ryan appeared. I felt instantly calmed upon seeing him. He had a document in his hand. He handed it to me.

  It was a notice of withdrawal. I looked at him, perplexed. “How did you?”

  “I found his price.”

  I nodded, understanding. “How much?”

  He shrugged. “Three quarters of a million dollars.”

  My heart stopped. “Ryan, you can’t-“

  “Shhhh. Your mental health is priceless to me. This is a small price to pay.”

  I sighed. I would never get used to this. This casual throwing around enormous sums of money. He acted like he paid him fifty bucks.

  Ryan grabbed my hand. “Now, come on. We need to file this document for him.”

  It occurred to me that this entire scenario might be enough to get me disbarred. Well, this incident, combined with my earlier visit, under false pretenses, to Rochelle at the jail. At this point, t
hough, I didn’t care. All I wanted was for this guy to not represent Rochelle.

  Anybody but him.

  It also dawned on me that there was no way John O’Donnell would turn me in. He would have to admit to taking a bribe. We would take each other down. Of course, Rochelle would be furious and would want to know why he would withdraw from her case. With any luck, he had a story at the ready about why he is taking this action. At any rate, I couldn’t worry about it. I wasn’t practicing law at the moment, anyhow, and didn’t know if I ever would again. So, what did I care? I really had nothing to lose. He, however, had a lot to lose. I figured I was safe.

  Ryan and I went to the courthouse, and filed the notice of withdrawal. Then, Ryan drove me to my car. “See you at home?”

  “Of course.”

  He smiled. “I'm getting my Iris back.” Then, with a little skip in his step, he got back into his car, and I followed him out.

  I was going home.

  Chapter Forty

  That night, we made love for the first time since – well, since Rochelle ambushed me. Ryan was tender, gentle, like he was afraid that he would break me. I had to admit that I did feel pretty fragile, both physically and mentally.

  Afterwards, we lay in bed together. He stroked my body longingly. He kissed me, and I could feel his hardness again. He immediately stopped kissing me.

  “Uh, we better get some sleep.”

  I nodded, but wondered why.

  He looked sheepish. “I don’t want to rush things too much. I'm afraid of wearing you out.”

  I smiled, and pushed him down on the mattress and straddled him. He was inside me again. He started to protest, but it was my turn to shush him. “I'm fine. More than fine. You aren’t going to break me. Now shut up and fuck me.”

  He smiled and obliged.

  We didn’t make love again that night after that. But things started to feel somewhat normal. He was stroking my hair from behind, his naked body pressed up against mine.

  He spoke. “I have to admit this is different. You've lost so much weight, I feel that I'm with a different woman.”

  I looked at him quizzically.

  “Don’t worry, I'll get used to it. But I kinda liked you before. You really need to eat.”

  “You liked me before?”

  “Sure. I mean, I like you now, too. But it just seems weird.”

  I snorted.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Rochelle told me that you had a veritable rotation of women going before you met me. And, from the sounds of it, they were all pretty slim.”

  “Well, yes. I admit that I dated a lot. What's so wrong with that?”

  “Nothing. I just figured that you liked skinny women.”

  “I like you. No matter what size you are. I’m just concerned, that’s all.”

  He saw my look and continued. “I'm concerned that you're not eating because you're afraid of gaining weight. And I'm telling you that I'm fine with you gaining weight. I fell in love with you when you were heavier, you seem to forget.”

  I just lay there and said nothing.

  “You really need to eat,” he continued. “The last thing you need is to go to rehab for anorexia. And don’t think that I won’t get you into rehab if you get below 100 lbs.” He rubbed his hands on my now-bony arms. “I need you healthy. We have a full life together, so you need to keep up your strength.”

  I nodded, but again said nothing. I was enjoying my new body, and was still terrified of gaining the weight back. This weight loss was the one positive thing that had come from my ordeal. If I gained the weight back, then that would mean that absolutely nothing positive came from it. It would be a total loss.

  I felt embarrassed for thinking that way.

  Maybe seeing a shrink wasn’t a bad idea after all.

  Chapter Forty-One

  It was Friday, two days after my whirlwind visits to Rochelle and everybody. I was in Dr. Halder’s office. I was going to stay there this time and complete my session. But I wanted Ryan go be in the office with me. He had agreed to this.

  “So, Iris. You're back.”

  “Very observant.”

  “How are you?”

  “Better. I don’t have a blinding headache today. And my sleeping has gotten back to normal.”

  “Good. Now what brings you here today?”

  “Ryan thinks that I need to talk about what happened.” I looked at Ryan, who was on the loveseat next to me, holding my hand.

  “Ok, then. Go on.”

  “Well, I'm getting stronger. I faced my attacker. I talked to the prosecutor. And I talked her attorney into withdrawing from her case.” That wasn’t exactly true, but I didn’t want to admit that there was bribery involved. I still was worried that this would come back to bite me. Of course, it wasn't like Dr. Halder could turn me in. Doctor-patient confidentiality and all that. But I still felt just a wee bit paranoid because Ryan was also in the room with me. With attorney-client confidentiality, the presence of a third party in the room severs the confidentiality, and I wondered if it was the same with a psychologist. Not that he would turn me in, but I didn't really want to take that chance.

  He continued to look at me, silently. I went on.

  “I guess that there are some residual effects. I, uh, have stopped eating and I can’t bring myself to start eating again.”

  “And why is this?”

  “Well, I, uh, was a bit overweight before.” I looked at Ryan, who was looking at his lap and shaking his head. Dr. Halder noticed Ryan shaking his head.

  “Ryan, you're shaking your head.”

  “Yes. Iris is beautiful now, and she was beautiful then. I don’t know why she can’t see that.”

  Dr. Halder then looked to me. “You hear what Ryan is saying. But you don’t seem to believe that.”

  “No. I know the women that he has dated before me. And was married to. I need to look my best for him. He deserves that.”

  Ryan seemed angry now. “I deserve a healthy wife. That's all I want. And if you don’t start eating, you will not be healthy.”

  Somehow I was back to my insecure self. Some things never change, I guess.

  I shook my head. “I'm not good enough for him.”

  Now he was angry. “Jesus, Iris, how can you still be spouting this bullshit? I'm completely devoted to you. I can’t believe that you can’t see that by now.” He lifted his hand from my hand, and crossed his arms.

  I looked at Dr. Halder. “So, you can see, I'm pretty messed up.”

  Ryan pouted for the rest of the time he was at the session.

  He ended up leaving the session about a half hour early, without a word. When I walked out, after talking to Dr. Halder, I saw Daniel there waiting for me. I groaned inwardly.

  He looked sheepish. “Uh, Ryan left and told me to come and pick you up.”

  I nodded. I figured I deserved this treatment.

  I decided to engage Daniel in conversation. For a first.

  “So, Daniel, tell me about yourself.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “How long have you known Ryan?”

  “For about 10 years.”

  “How long have you been his driver?”

  “Well, he hired me after Paul. You know.” He looked at me knowingly.

  “Yeah. And when was that?”

  “About three years ago.”

  “You drive his other women around?”

  “What other women?”

  “You know.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Well, before you, there were.”

  I nodded my head knowingly. “Go on.”

  “You get nothing from me.” He looked ahead at the road.

  I sighed.

  I arrived at home. The lights were turned out. Ryan’s car was not in the driveway. I felt the familiar constriction in my lungs, the feeling of fear. I didn’t want to be alone. I found my phone and called him.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi,” he answered.
<
br />   “Where are you?”

  “I'm at the Velvet Dog.” This was a hip bar in midtown.

  “Can I-“

  “No. I'm alright.”

  I started to feel slightly panicky. What if he really does want to leave me? What if there is a self-fulfilling prophecy - I'm so paranoid about him leaving me that I behave in a manner that causes him to really leave?

  “Ok. I will, uh, see you when you get home?”

  “Yeah. See you then.”

  I dragged myself up to our room. I was feeling exhausted again. And depressed. I fell asleep from the time that my head hit the pillow.

  I woke up to an empty bed. I crept into one of the guest bedrooms. He wasn’t there. I searched the other four bedrooms and the office. Not there. I made my way into the loft, and found him on the couch, asleep, the television still playing. I shut off the TV, found a blanket and put it over him. He was fast asleep. I crawled onto the other sofa, found a pillow and blanket, and went back to sleep.

  I woke up again, and Ryan was gone. I made my way downstairs, and found him in his boxer shorts and t-shirt, making breakfast. He smiled at me. “Good morning, Sunshine.”

  I relaxed. He seemed friendlier.

  “Uh, do you want to talk?” I asked him.

  “Sure. Here. I made you a screwdriver.”

  I sat down while Ryan finished off the breakfast, and brought it out to the dining room.

  “So,” I began. “I guess you're mad at me?”

  “No, not mad. I'm just really confused.”

  I nodded.

  He continued. “I'm just confused on how I can show you that you not only mean the world to me, but that you're good enough for me.”

  “I have my issues,” I admitted.

  “And how.” He shook his head. “I just don’t know how you still have these issues.”

  “They don’t just magically disappear overnight.”

  “Granted. But come on, we've been together now for almost a year.”

  I looked down at my hands and said nothing.

  “Anyhow,” he said, and kneeled in front of me. I could feel my pulse quickening, and my breath caught. Like when we first met.

  He took my hand. “Maybe I can convince you about how much I love you. Iris, you've made me a better man. Before I met you, I was lost and broken. You’ve fixed me. You've helped me find my way. I, quite frankly, can never imagine my life without you now. Nor do I want to. So now, I have to ask you the question that I have wanted to ask you from the moment I saw you in that bar.” He produced a small jewelry box, and opened it.