“I’m loving it,” I smile genuinely up at him. “How are Lisa and the kids?” I ask. Thomas tenses up. He doesn’t like to discuss his wife and children with me. It seems to put a damper on his attempts to get into my pants. Disgusting fool.
“Fine,” he clears his throat and turns his attention elsewhere. It seems that catch-up time is through.
We get into the mediator’s office in the courthouse and settle in. I pull out my laptop and turn it on. It’s just me and Thomas in here right now so I have a few minutes to re-group before the Judge, the mediator, opposing counsel, and our clients come in. I just hope it’s enough time to get everything started up.
I sit down just as the computer starts up. I stretch my legs out underneath the large conference table. With my hands held onto the side of the table and my legs stretched out, I hear moaning. My eyes shoot up to Thomas who is staring at me quizzically. I don’t know where it’s coming from, so I really wish he’d stop staring at me. The laptop screen goes black and cheesy porn music starts to play. My mouth drops open as a cheesy porn movie plays on my laptop screen. In a moment of unforgettable horror, my hands push off from the table but the wheels to my chair get caught on something below. I screech as I fly backwards, head first to the floor.
Thomas rushes around the table and closes the laptop screen but the porn music continues to play. Me, with my heels high in the air and my skirt inching its way upwards, I scramble from my position on the floor to stand; but it’s no use. Thomas is standing over me, doing everything in his power to stop my laptop’s shenanigans, while effectively blocking any means of me righting myself. Finally, I give up and kick him a little on my way to standing.
“What the hell is this, Colleen? Thomas hisses. Tears flood my eyes and I shake my head.
“I…” I whisper-sob, “I don’t know!” I reach over to open the laptop screen and am greeted by what can only be described as some kind of man-on-man free-for-all. “Ew!” I yell as I fumble around to pull the battery out. Just as I have my hand on the battery pack, the Judge walks in.
“Counsel,” he says sternly, “what in God’s name is going on in here?” He is beat red and in no mood for a half-assed explanation set to cheesy porn music. My heart beats in my chest so hard that I worry it might jump out. Finally, I regain my senses and yank the battery out and the music finally stops. I hear the Judge railing on us in the background but all I can make out are the words “embarrassment”, “professionalism”, “lawsuit”, and “contempt.” All I can think is “please, God, don’t let me get fired or disbarred for this.”
Thomas dismisses me from the room and allows me to clean up in the bathroom down the corridor. He is clear to make sure I return because “despite [my] inability to remember my position as an officer of the law, a position which is to be taken seriously,” he still needs me in there today and he doesn’t have time to replace me as co-chair. I can’t really blame him because I wouldn’t want to be around me right now, either. I know for certain that the porn music was intended to be some kind of joke, but as always, it didn’t turn out quite so funny.
In the bathroom, I clean myself up and check my cell phone. I have two missed phone calls and three missed text messages from Brad. “Hey pretty girl. Please do not open your laptop today. I’m not kidding. Adam installed this porn virus on it as a joke. Please call me back.”
Oh.
Oh.
He thinks he’s funny. That’s okay. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Game on, Mr. Patrick.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
(C0lleen)
She’s the only person who’s always been supportive of my choices.
THE MEDIATION ENDS without any more fuss despite the fact that I can’t access my notes on the case because they’re tucked away in the porntop. Thankfully, I know my stuff and I manage just fine without them.
“You did well, Colleen,” Thomas says as we load everything back in his Lexus. Whenever we need to leave the office for business purposes, we take his car. Apparently, my three-year new Honda doesn’t send the right image to our clients. Like his Lexus does? If I were our client, that Lexus would tell me I’m being overcharged.
“Again,” I say, exasperated, “I am so very sorry for what happened.” I climb into the passenger seat. Thomas looks at me from his driver’s seat and pats my knee. I try to shrug it off and ignore the inappropriateness of his hand on my knee—his very married hand on my very married knee. Pig.
“Colleen,” Thomas says, patting my knee. I place my hand near his so that he can’t move up my leg; which he is very likely to attempt. “I always thought you had potential as an attorney. You’re a smart girl; but I remember telling you that when you were first hired on at the firm that you were going to have to make some sacrifices.” I nod. I remember that, but have no desire to reminisce.