by J. E. Taylor
Linda looked up from the reception desk as he walked in the door. Her eyes widening and her jaw dropping. “What happened to you?”
Steve’s hand shot to the bandage. “Nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing.”
“I got in the way of a flying knick-knack,” Steve answered and crossed to his office, closing the door on the few inquisitive stares.
Charlie walked in his office a half hour later. “I heard you were a mess. What happened?” He took a seat on the opposite side of the desk.
Steve looked down at his desk. “Jenny got a little angry.”
“And what, threw a bowling ball at your head?”
He broke out in a grin and raised his eyes. “No.” He touched the bandage. “This was a ceramic bunny. I’m just glad it wasn’t my American eagle. That would have broken my skull.”
His smile faded. “She was trying to kill you?”
“No. She was just pissed off because I wasn’t listening.”
Charlie raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. “Is she usually this…unstable?”
“Not usually.” He took a deep breath. “She’s always been a bit high maintenance, you know? But lately…” Steve shrugged. “She’s been stressed.”
Charlie scrutinized Steve with sharp eyes. “I never would have pegged you for someone who would let a woman walk all over you.”
Clenching his jaw, he let a fraction of the anger he felt toward Charlie surface. “I don’t let anyone walk over me.” He pushed the chair back and started across the room toward the door.
Charlie swiveled the chair around. “I’m concerned about you.”
Steve stopped at the door, turning toward his boss with his hand on the knob. “Well, don’t be, I can take care of myself.”
Charlie smiled and stood, crossing to him. “That’s what my little brother used to say.”
Steve stared at Charlie. Careful now. His heart hammered in his chest at the sudden breakthrough.
He put his hand up. “My little brother seemed to have a knack for landing in abusive relationships too.”
Steve raised his eyebrows and stepped back. “Abuse?” He started laughing. “Charlie, I’m not abused. I just didn’t duck fast enough.”
Charlie put his hand on his shoulder and he shook it off.
“I’m fine, really. Jenny’s just going through an emotional time. Her ex is driving her nuts and she was kicked out of her apartment, and the play opens tomorrow. She’s just wound real tight.” He let a laugh escape, realizing he was babbling. “Her ex even bugged our apartment.”
Charlie tilted his head. “Really?”
“Yeah, he knew we’ve been dating and knows where I live,” he nodded, crossing back to his desk. “I don’t know how the hell he got in, but I’m going to look at installing a deadbolt. The microphone was in one of the broken ceramic pieces.” Taking a seat in his chair, Steve met his gaze. “Man, she was pissed! She thought I planted it. Can you believe that?” He shook his head, slowly taking a deep breath, unnerved by Charlie’s silence. He continued anyway. “That guy did such a number on her. If the bastard comes anywhere near her…” Steve trailed off and thought of Bill, re-living the hatred that flared in his soul when he saw Jennifer being raped. He swung his eyes toward Charlie. “If he comes near her, I’ll kill him.”
Charlie stiffened at the venom in his voice. “Chill there, buddy,” he said. “By the way, I got tickets for your girlfriend’s play. I’ll be there tomorrow night and you can introduce us.”
The curveball stunned him and he blinked. “I, uh, I thought you were having a party?” He couldn’t keep the stutter of surprise out of his voice.
“I changed my mind.” Charlie disappeared, leaving Steve staring after him.
Shit! Jenny’s going to be pissed!
He swiveled, looking at his computer screen, analyzing the breakthrough with Charlie and playing the last few minutes over in his mind. Shit. Steve rolled his head, trying to loosen the tight muscles in his neck, wondering just how much Charlie knew.
A message from the maintenance company blinked in his email box.
His eyebrows went up and he leaned back in the chair. “I’ll be damned.” He stood and crossed to Charlie’s office. “They accepted the contract changes,” he said, leaning in the door.
Charlie gave Steve a thumbs-up and pointed to the phone.
“Sorry.” Steve headed back to his office. He formulated the email response stating they would be looking forward to receiving the signed contract for execution. He sent the email, copying Charlie, and sat back. There were no more contracts to negotiate at the moment and no trusts to execute, and he found himself in the unusual circumstance of having nothing to do.
Edgy from the morning conversation and looking for some levity, he pulled the cell phone out and pressed speed dial.
He swung the chair back and forth, looking out at the busy office.
* * * *
“Hello?” Jennifer answered the phone. Blinking against the morning sunshine, she crossed her arm over her eyes to block the bright rays.
“Hi, babe,” he said.
“Hey.” She stretched lazily in the bed.
“Are you still in bed?”
“Mhm.”
“Wake up!”
“Uh-uh.”
“Lazy girl.”
“What are you doing calling me in the middle of the morning?”
“Just wrapped up the latest contract negotiation and I find myself with nothing on my plate, so I figured…”
“You’d call and harass me.” She finished his sentence.
“Exactly. That’s the least I can do, considering the six stitches in my head.”
Jennifer let out a snort.
“My boss is coming Friday,” Steve said.
She lifted her arm from her eyes and sat up. “Say again?”
“Charlie is coming to the play on Friday. You’ll get to meet him.”
It’s supposed to be my night. The though leapt to the front of her mind but she bit down on letting it escape from her lips. “Fine.”
“Fine?” He purposely pushed her buttons.
“Did you just call to razz me?”
Steve chuckled in response. “Gotta run!”
Jennifer stared at the phone, the dial tone transitioning into the horrible beep, beep, beep of a phone off the hook. She slammed the phone in the cradle and rolled out of bed.
Her stomach lurched when she opened the refrigerator. The scent of leftover chicken made her bolt across the apartment, sliding on the floor of the bathroom and falling to her knees as the sour contents of her stomach emptied into the bowl. She spit and brushed the vile taste from her mouth. Nausea had seeped in over the past couple of weeks but hadn’t gotten to the point of vomiting. Jennifer closed her eyes, willing herself not to be sick, not tonight and definitely not tomorrow.
“I can’t be sick,” she said and opened her eyes. “I can’t.”
Chapter 11
Steve turned off his computer for the night when Charlie knocked on the door.
“They caved, eh?”
“They certainly did.” He zipped his briefcase and stood.
“I’ve been thinking about your situation.”
“My situation?” Shit, here it comes.
“Your girlfriend’s ex.”
“What about him?” Steve asked, attempting to hide the surprise and doubt shifting through his muscles.
“I can help you with that.” Charlie leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms.
Steve leaned on his desk adopting the same stance. “How?”
“I’ve got a lot of influential friends, Steve. If I suggest someone needs to disappear, they disappear.”
Steve digested this information and kept eye contact while deciding how to play this.
Gamble.
“You know, I’ve never once asked where all that extra money came from. Now I’m starting to wonder.” He raised his eyebrows. “What exactly a
m I involved in here?”
Charlie laughed. “What do you think you’re involved in?”
Steve allowed a small smile. “I’m not quite sure.” His heart raced and he prayed the gamble wouldn’t backfire. “You’re offering to make a problem disappear. That gets me thinking perhaps there are some things we’re doing that aren’t within the confines of the law.”
Charlie straightened up. “And if that’s the case?”
Steve inhaled and allowed his shoulders to slump a fraction. He exhaled and uncrossed his arms, leaning his palms on the edge of the desk taking time formulating his thoughts. This was a critical juncture and if he gave the wrong answer, he wouldn’t make it out of the building alive. “Hypothetically?”
Charlie gave a slow nod.
Steve kept eye contact. “I’m not sure,” he finally said. “On one hand, I want to know, but on the other…” He shrugged.
“On the other?”
“On the other, if you are involved in something illegal and I know nothing of the details, I would never be a liability if subpoenaed.”
“You’re my lawyer. What about attorney client privilege?”
“There are some boundaries there, if the communication is used in the commission of a crime, the privilege is inadmissible. There was a Supreme Court ruling on that recently.”
Charlie’s eyebrows went up. “You’re shitting me?”
“No. I’m not kidding and I’m really not too keen on going to jail for contempt of court.” Steve grabbed his briefcase off the desk, approaching Charlie and stopping when he was shoulder to shoulder with his boss.
Dice in hand, he rolled.
“So, the question is, hypothetically, of course, do you trust me enough to take that kind of gamble?” Steve went to take a step out of the office.
“I trust you enough to handle my money,” Charlie answered, turning toward Steve. “And you’re damn good at it.”
Bingo!
“Trust accounts, S corporations, LLCs. It’s just moving money from place to place, Charlie. A shell game, nothing more.” Steve shrugged, his adrenaline kicking into high gear as he charted the path through the dangerous minefield he just stepped in. Charlie’s last lawyer had been found shot dead in the park, the police report tagged it as a robbery gone wrong, but Steve knew better. If he wasn’t careful, he could end up with a similar fate.
Charlie laughed. “Yes, but what you’ve done is slick. In the years that I’ve been doing this, I’ve never had a lawyer quite as creative with my money.” He leaned closer. “Who didn’t skim a cent off the top.”
“I’m not here to steal your money, Charlie. You pay better than most firms in this market.”
“Come; let’s celebrate the success of the contract.” Charlie put his hand on Steve’s back, leading him through the empty office.
Steve figured he either scored big or was being led to his death. He kept his game face on, not showing a hint of the apprehension pulsing through his muscles.
“You’ve got alcohol in your office?” he asked when they crossed the threshold.
“Not exactly.” Charlie closed the door and flipped the lock. “Have a seat.”
Steve tensed when the lock flipped but took a seat on the couch as directed. His eyebrows creased. “If you don’t have alcohol…” He trailed off, meeting Charlie’s direct stare.
Charlie sat at the desk for a minute, a serious expression on his face. “Ever experiment with drugs, Steve?”
“Excuse me?” His already pounding heart nearly tripled its rate and he swore Charlie could see his shirt move with each frantic beat.
Calm your ass down!
Sweat saturated his palms and he wiped them on his trousers.
“Have you ever used drugs?”
Steve looked at the door and back to Charlie with his mouth hanging open, debating on how to answer. “Hasn’t everyone, at least once?” He sent the question back after regaining composure.
Charlie smiled. “What have you tried?”
He looked at his hands. “The usual.”
“Define usual.”
“Marijuana. I tried it a few times in high school.”
“Anything else?” Charlie pushed.
Steve stared at his boss for a moment and nodded. “I don’t see why this is relevant. It was a long time ago.”
“What else have you tried?”
“I’d rather not answer that.” Steve shifted in the chair, doubting his chances of leaving the office alive. He took a deep breath, calming his nerves.
Charlie shook his head and reached under his desk, drawing the gun out and pointing it at Steve.
“Shit, Charlie, what the fuck are you doing?” Steve jumped to his feet.
Ah fuck, he knows!
“Are you a mole?”
“What? No.” Steve shook his head. How the hell do I play this?
He stared down the barrel of the gun and actually felt the blood rush out of his face and shifted his gaze to Charlie. The man was grinning at his reaction. “And this isn’t funny.”
Charlie raised his eyebrows. “At least you didn’t piss your pants like my last lawyer.” He pulled the hammer back. “Now tell me what other drugs you’ve experimented with.”
Steve pressed his lips together and glared at Charlie. “Put the fucking gun away.”
Charlie laughed and shot a round into the floor a couple of feet in front of Steve.
He jumped backwards. “Jesus!” He didn’t have to manufacture any hint of fear. It was real and alive in his veins.
Charlie leaned back in the seat, the gun still pointed at him. He tilted his head. “I won’t miss with the next round.”
“Fine!” he yelled, putting his hands in front of him. “LSD. Okay? I did acid in high school.” Steve’s voice cracked. “And, and I tried peyote once. And in college, speed kept me awake cramming for exams.”
“Really?” He released the hammer and flipped the safety on the gun, but still held it pointing in Steve’s direction. “That’s it?”
Steve nodded.
“What was acid like?”
“What?” he asked, staring at the gun.
“What was acid like?”
Steve shook his head and rolled his eyes. “It was surreal, all right?”
“That’s not good enough, Steve.” Charlie flipped the safety off the gun.
Steve tilted his head and let out a laugh. The sheer fact he wasn’t dead was a positive sign. “You’re fucked up.”
“Maybe so, but considering the questions you’ve asked tonight, I figured you and I better have this conversation. Now, you were saying?”
“I don’t know how to describe it.” Exasperated when Charlie leveled the gun at him again, he continued, “I thought I could see air molecules. Okay? Psychedelic colored air molecules that drifted around like amoebas and tracks of light, like the photographs of car taillights when the camera’s shutter is held open. And there was a metallic taste in my mouth the whole time, like biting on tin foil.” He smiled for a second when Charlie visibly shivered at the analogy. “Nothing I did would get rid of the taste. It just had to wear off with the acid.”
Charlie flipped the safety back on the gun. “What about cocaine?”
Steve shook his head. His heart hammered and he swallowed despite his dry mouth.
“Why not?” Charlie leaned on his elbows. “You seemed to be adventurous enough to drop acid.”
“I never warmed up to the idea of putting something up my nose.”
He unlocked the top desk drawer and pulled out a few items, placing them on the desk without losing eye contact with Steve. He cocked the hammer back and slid the items to the far side. Charlie offered a smile and pointed toward the mirror, razor blade and baggie of white powder. “You’re going to get over that pretty quickly or I’m going to plant a bullet in your brain.”
He stared between the cocaine and Charlie. “Um, I’m not sure I want to work for you, anymore.”
Charlie laughed and lifted th
e gun. “Get over here.” He stood and pointed the end of the gun to the paraphernalia on his desk.
Steve stiffly crossed the room and stood on the other side of the desk, his expression alternating between fear and anger, unsure of how to play the next bluff. He was still alive. Being resistant hadn’t killed him yet, so he gambled again. “Why the hell are you doing this?”
“I’m protecting my investment. Now sit your ass down.” Charlie pointed the gun at the chair.
He hesitated. “What if I refuse?”
“Then I’m going to lose the best financial lawyer I’ve ever had.”
Charlie said it so calmly that goose bumps appeared on his arms. He slowly sank into the chair and stared at the drugs. I wish I had my fucking gun. He glanced back at Charlie and said a silent prayer.
“If you liked speed, you’ll like this,” he said. “Open the bag and pour some on the mirror.”
Steve followed Charlie’s instructions, cutting the powder into a finer grain and arranging it into four even lines.
Charlie reached into his drawer and handed him a two-inch plastic straw. “That’s all for you. Put the straw in your nostril, plug the other one and inhale.”
“At gunpoint?” Steve’s voice cracked again. Jenny’s going to kill me.
Charlie nodded.
“Fine,” he snapped and leaned over. The first snort burned as it went up his nose, dripping into his throat making his eyes water. He sat back, choking on a cough.
“Keep going.”
“Just give me a sec.” He glared at Charlie and sniffled, rubbing the side of his nose to stop the tickling sensation that had set in.
“Now,” Charlie ordered.
Steve leaned over and inhaled the next line of potent cocaine. The burning was less prevalent this time. He switched nostrils and did the same, sucking up the last two lines in rapid succession. Sniffling, he threw the straw on the desk and stood, crossing to the window with his back to Charlie. “Happy now?” he said over his shoulder.
“Not quite.”
The tapping of the razor blade filled the room. Steve didn’t bother turning. He watched the thinning traffic on street below. The cocaine kicked in and a thousand tiny pinpricks dance across the surface of his skin. Steve’s anger magnified and he turned, glaring at Charlie. Four more lines were laid out on the mirror.
