by Rebecca Lee
“You're a pig.”
“And you can't get enough of it. Please this client. Our future awaits us. I am going to talk to Shawna after the partner meeting.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Wait until after the partner meeting.”
“Why the hell David?”
“Because he'll handle the accounting side. You do the legal. Besides being a monumental kiss-ass, he's an A-1 number's nerd.”
“You sure it isn't so he can spy on me? This Tyler West sounds like a great catch?”
“LOL. You do what's best for you. I'll never deny you that. Take care of my pussy there though. That's all I ask. Keep it shaved bald, wet, and tight.”
“LOL. Pig. I'll send you my first update after I've made contact with West.”
David sat down next to me and handed over a peppermint latte.
“Oh thanks. Hold on,” I said ruffling through my purse.
“No. I got it,” he said with a smile.
I looked at him and flashed a half smile and a nod of thanks. I knew I had to head to the bathroom or someplace. Than when I got back, I'd was going to sit across from him. I was going to pay him back by treating for something on the trip.
It was going to be that kind of trip. Him being syrupy nice hoping to get me naked and me giving him increasingly direct signs I was never going to be interested.
The thought of nearly a full week of it sent my stress level even higher. It piled on my emotions after the slap in the face of Andrew and that little whore associate the night before.
I just wanted to get on that plane and focus on work. That's all I asked.
Chapter 6--Tyler
I loved the dock areas down by the Delaware River. Especially after dark in the winter. There was activity and real people trying to get by in life. I loved that I was able to blend right into the scene.
After going there so much, I knew a lot of the longshoremen down there by sight but not name.
The streets around the old city were wet from snow that melted on contact, but the night was turning bitter cold fast and the surfaces were becoming slick and dangerous.
I was in full winter gear complete with arctic ski mask. With all the clothing on, I had forced myself into my black leather riding coat and got on the motorcycle.
I'd never crashed in my many years of riding. I never thought about it happening, much less took any precautions. I just did it. Winter rides cleared my head and reawakened my soul. I had to do them.
I had to stay on the move.
The docks were clear as I turned out of the city to the area along the water front. The main access road on the docs left me the freedom and opportunity to let loose.
I popped the front of the bike up at full speed and began doing wheelies on the wet pavement.
“Come on! Gimme some ice! Get that wimp bull shit out of here!” I screamed.
I was on the edge and loved it.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see dock workers looking on. Cold air rushed into my ski mask peep holes making my water. They felt like they were going to freeze. If I would have blinked they would have frozen shut. Ahead and fast approaching, I could see a fence with barbed wire on the far edge of the access road.
I wasn't slowing down. What would have been the fun of that?
With only feet left before a full on collision, I twisted the motorcycle into an abrupt turn. I felt the sudden scorching burn of the friction of the concrete against my riding boot.
I dug and slammed the brakes, causing the machine to pop up. I was safe and sound. My heart raced uncontrollably.
I'd cheated disaster again. I couldn't help but be smug. Over the years, I'd done so many things where more experienced better men had died when they tried them. I considered myself invincible. But it ate me up inside with guilt because I didn't know why I always survived and others didn't.
“Yeah!” There was a cluster of guys smoking near the plank leading up to a storage ship. They were going wild, cheering what they had just seen.
I hopped back on my bike and made the long trip up the access road for my turn into the old city section of downtown. I saluted the hard working men freezing their butts off and they waved back. I was in my glory and in my element.
When I was back amid the tall buildings, I saw a group of carolers singing to storefronts. They had a collection box.
When I saw it, it reminded me how much I didn't trust charities. And how much I'd grown to hate the hypocrisy and greed of Christmas in America.
The excitement from a few minutes earlier had give way to feelings of stale boredom with everything.
There was only one cure. One thing that would get me through the next few days and to get that damn estate settled.
I headed to my small office in South Philly. Not far from where the Eagles and Phillies have their stadiums. I brought the motorcycle inside and parked it next to the thread bare brown couch across the roam from my desk. I shed the double layer cold weather gear and riding boots and threw on some soft soled black Adidas, a dark winter cap and a pea coat. Without wasting any time to warm back up, set out on foot into the dark urban night.
*
“Ahh Detective Altobelli. Here to cuff me?”
I could tell he held back a laugh.
It was well after noon the morning after my death defying ride but it felt like the crack of dawn. I hadn't fallen asleep until ten in the morning.
“There was a break in at a facility South of the City and the ownership was listed as a company belonging to your parents. There was a bunch of cash taken from two faults. I wanted to alert you personally Mr. West. And see if you had any idea who would want to steal from you?”
“How much money are we talking?”
“We're waiting for word. The facility manager said it looks like a couple thousand dollars at the most.”
“Well two things. It isn't my facility. It belonged to my parents. They owned it and they made the money from it. Second, it's too bad they didn't get more. My parents had an obscene amount of money.”
“I know how active they were in charities,” the detective responded. “They gave a lot away too.”
“And they made sure you knew about it every time they did,” I snarled.
“Sorry sir. Are you ok?”
“I am having a hard time sleeping lately is all,” I said, cooling my tone back to normal. “I didn't mean to take it out on you.”
“Well since you seem to know nothing, I'll leave you to your day,” he said. “Peculiar case. Looked like a daring heist. The individual came through the skylight. Cut it open with a razor blade or something. There wasn't anywhere on the roof to attach a rope or safety harness.
“Hats off to him, or her,” I said. “Whomever earned it by taking that much risk. And my family won't miss a couple thousand dollars.”
The detective turned and quickly exited the house with just a nod.
I couldn't hold back my smile thinking of the precious fortune of Randolph West being chipped away at by a modern day Robin Hood.
Chapter 7--Beth
Anton Smith was the bulldog know-it-all paralegal that kept Andrew's billing and trial preparation machine humming along.
He was also gay and a total prick. He delighted in displaying to young lawyers his superior knowledge of just about everything pertaining to the practice of law. He hated young lawyers particularly because he felt like he knew more, but they started out at the firm making more than him.
Every conversation with the guy was laced with his venom. My goal with him was to get business done and get as far away as possible. The problem was he was Andrew's unquestioned work horse and right-hand man. So he wasn't going anywhere.
His greatest delight was tugging my chains about my personal life and the my choice in married lovers.
“I am looking for Mr. Kinkaid, Anton.”
“Pretty formal considering everything aren't we Beth?” He said in his most annoying, smart-ass feminine guy vo
ice.
Even all the way up in Philadelphia, I could see the little bald prick with his five hundred dollar skinny slacks sitting at his desk acting like he ran the place.
“Well this is work and I have a lot of it to do,” I said, trying to keep him from further needling into my business.
“Ah yeah, the West file,” he said. “I know why you were put on that one. But I am sworn to secrecy.”
“Look Anton, it's getting late. I am tired from all the travel and going through the three boxes of shit on this file. Can I speak with Andrew? I need some direction on a couple things.”
“Well sister love, I hate to burst your bubble but you aren't first in line on the protege pecking order,” he said with obvious glee.
He loved to make other people feel small.
“Can I just leave him a message?”
“Why not call him on his cell phone?”
“What makes you think I have his cell phone number?”
“Maybe it's the poorly concealed moaning from your office?”
He couldn't have heard that? But I was sure he knew. He knew everything. Andrew paid him handsomely to keep his secrets.
“He's actually in trial. Fort Myers. Young lusty Gabrielle is his second chair. And I am sure his sleepover buddy every night.”
It was like a punch in the gut. My eyes began to fill with watery tears. I felt like a worthless whore. I knew he wasn't lying to me. He didn't need to. Anton always had the information on everybody and wielded it around like a magical hurtful sword.
“That's none of my business. This is a business call. Let him know I need to talk to him,” I said, faking it with a voice of composure, masking deep emotional hurt and loss. She meant something to him and I was clearly in a competition.
After I hung up, it hit me that she was likely one of many. I was clueless because I'd never considered it before. I truly thought I was special.
I closed my eyes and tried to refocus.
“You're a pig. A sick pig.”
Was the text I banged out to him when I opened my eyes.
I shut the phone off, not wanting to read any reply.
I knew my only option was to finish what I started and hoped he'd take care of me at that partner meeting.
*
Candice was my only actual friend from what I always told myself was my “fun life”.
We had been in the same sorority at FSU.
When I wanted to talk anything but law, as rare as that was, she was my best and only option.
We were different but she never judged me.
Where I had convinced myself that those preppy fraternity boys were beneath me, she met a special one right away our freshman year. They were together our whole time at school. While I partied and sampled from many suitors, she stuck with Jack. When I was running around, having all those hot guys eating out of my hand, I used to laugh at her. To me, Jack was a schlump.
She gave up parties and all these other hot guys.
She was the responsible one and I thought the party would go on forever.
But work and adult reality had set in.
I had the phone on speaker and I was attacking the mini vodka and rums. There was so damn Diet Coke in the fridge so down the hall to a vending machine I went multiple times. I was wearing a little tank top, boy shorts that hugged my ass, and some flip flips.
On the second trip I drew the attention of an older distinguished looking guy heading to his room carrying a brief case.
I was this close. This close to asking him in,” I said, taking another gulp of Diet Coke to chase my vodka. “If he knocked on the door right now, I'd ask him in and jump his bones.”
“My you are wasted,” Candice said, laughing like were back at the Delta House having a nail and hair party.
“This is one shit assignment. A fucking spoiled trust fund dick,” I said changing the subject away from my obvious drunkenness. “Listen to this report from Anton, the gay prick: “Excentric. A real ass hole No one likes him. Cold and to himself.”
“Sounds like he was writing his own autobiography. Ass hole.”
“Potty mouth,” Candice said laughing again. “So how is Philadelphia? You run into Rocky?”
“Who?”
“Forget it,” she said, sounding slightly disgusted. “I forgot. You were out on the party scene all those times and I was at the house watching movies.”
“Well you look like the smart one now,” I said. “You have a great guy who loves you and takes care of you.”
“It's kind of like that but not really Beth,” she said in her serious tone. Which meant it was time for me to get off the phone. “We take care of each other. I think you went wrong with Andrew because you always deep down thought the perfect man should take care of you. Well let me tell you something: men can sense that. A real man who really wants to take care of a woman, feels like a pawn in a chess game when he meets a woman who thinks that way. They feel disposable. Andrew manipulates that need inside you. He'll never really choose you.”
I didn't know what to say. That was more honest and blunt then I'd ever heard Candice. Frankly it pissed me off. But I fought the truth.
I didn't want to admit I had been wasting my time and feelings on Andrew. And I had real feelings for him. I loved the way he felt when he was inside me. I love the power I felt being with him.
It wasn't just about becoming partner at the firm.
Philadelphia. Fucking cold and fucking dirty. I stared out the window and suddenly felt lost.
“When you get back, why don't we all have dinner. I can invite Jerry,” Candice said. “He thinks you are so hot Beth.”
Jerry was Jack's brother. Big guy, but not the greatest looking. Not ugly just not great. But he was like a construction worker. Barely finished high school from from what I gathered. I wasn't up for being the most educated person in a relationship.
My phone alert went off and I checked it. It snapped me to sudden urgency.
“Holy shit. I gotta go Candice. We'll talk about Jerry and all that some other time. It's my colleague up here. I didn't fucking know, but apparently I was supposed to meet the trust fund prince an hour ago.”
I was in a foreign city and I needed to track this guy down at some workout place. And I was drunk.
The entire file was at risk. This Tyler West could have pulled our business at the drop of a hat. I had to go immediately and just hope he wouldn't be able to tell I was messed up.
The only thing I could think of us was kicking ass, making partner, and stealing Andrew back from that silly little slut Gabrielle.
*
The Broad Street Gym was not the kind of place I'd expect to ever see a soon to be a billionaire.
