Deciding I’m not eating the guilty, bribe of food. I grab the basket of onion rings and the white Styrofoam cup as I slide from my booth and confidently stride over to them, nothing like confronting your worst enemy face-to-face.
“Hey, Lex.” Corey smiles, chewing on a fry. Corey is an architect and I heard rumors he had started working for Archie. That’s Archer McDougal’s nickname, he’s in his early forties and runs a small architectural firm on the outskirts of town. They work mainly with country homes and barns, and yes, rhyming once again with his company name. Please don’t make me tell you everyone in this town because it wouldn’t be pretty and the amount of rhyming stores would put you off. I love it. Outsiders…not so much.
“Hi, I don’t want your food. I’m sorry.” I slide it to Corey.
“It’s not from me.” He points a fry at Gage. “It’s from him.”
Well isn’t that just dandy of him? Inserting internal eye roll here.
“I’m sorry about the meeting, I know it was brutal.”
Apologizing to me? Are you flippin’ serious? And the worst thing is he sounds like he might actually mean it. How stupid is that?
“Brutal for who? You or me? I don’t recall anyone calling you a whore.”
“I didn’t call you a whore.”
Great come back genius —not!
“No, not that exact word. But you did it in your fancy schmancy lawyer lingo. Which is much worse.”
It’s true, when someone calls you a whore, you’re a whore. Point blank. However, when you do it with lawyer talk, it takes four sentences with descriptions and big words, to end up with the same conclusion. You know it’s true.
Lawyer man slouches in his seat, with a deep frown, and now he refuses to look at me. Corey is chewing away on his burger and fries, all smiles and light chitchat. Not sure what to say and knowing I got my point across, I dismiss myself and head to the counter and say goodbye to Dolly.
With my hand on the door to leave, Corey turns to me. “I hope we can get together soon. Not this weekend but maybe the next, my daughters will be with their mothers then and I’d love to try and make up for what happened on Saturday.” His eyes dart straight to Gage with that last statement.
“Sounds good.” I mutter and leave without sparing a moment’s glance at Gage, the too hot for his own good, jackass.
Strolling back into my office after that disastrous lunch, my stomach’s angry with me. It seems as though it always acts that way around Gage. Daniel must be out to his own lunch because he wasn’t sitting at his desk when I arrived moments ago.
Plopping down in my chair, tugging off my heels and setting them on the floor next to my desk, I tug the clip out of my long hair. It’s relaxation time. Clicking the music remote on my satellite in office radio, I’m welcomed with my favorite station. Old school country music permeates the air with the likes of Patsy serenading me with Crazy, one of my all-time favorite country songs.
Humming and tapping my barefoot on the floor to the music, I scoot my chair up under my desk and move my mouse to wake up my computer. I’ve got end of the month reports due that I have to look over. Research on what’s the next color of lipstick we are going to produce and free my email from clutter.
Looks like someone by the name of Suit Master happened to email me back. I giggle and blush like a giddy teenage girl as I excitedly open his email. I can’t believe he got back to me so fast!
From: Suitmaster6979
To: Lotionlady316
Monday 11:45 a.m.
To Lotion Lady;
I’m pleased to hear back from you. I wasn’t sure I ever would. How’s your Monday going so far?
I’m sitting here at work, stressed, and unable to decide what route to take with these clients of mine. I’m a criminal lawyer, by the way. Please don’t hold that against me. Most of my caseloads involve abuse in one form or another, saving the world, placing one abusive scumbag behind bars at a time. That’s my expertise and it’s a rough one. But since I was six, I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. An honest one, if that helps any.
What do you do for a living? Or is that too personal? I know you asked me but I don’t want to pry.
About the dog in my main photo, your assumption was right on the money. That’s Babs, my lab, who keeps me warm when I get lonely.
Do you have any pets?
In regards to your fascination with Poe, the Tell-Tale Heart is a great short story. I’m more of a Raven fan, myself. And as much as I can appreciate Poe’s work, I’m a Yeats and Tennyson aficionado, stems all the way back to my Comparative Lit class when I attended Harvard. Needless to say, my horizons were broadened after I finished that course.