Binding Arbitration (23 page)

As Vanessa collected her things I reclined in my chair and crossed my ankles on the edge of the desk, her head shot up.

“Those are vintage Ferragamos. My mother had a pair of them years ago. Where did you get them?”

“Michigan Avenue, trunk show.” I started to sort through a stack of legal tablets.

“Those had to cost several thousand dollars.”

“Yes, they did.” They were the most comfortable shoes I’d ever worn, and the spicy brown patent leather gleamed around my foot. They were from the seventies, but they looked like they had just stepped off the pages of the October issue of Vogue—pointy toes, spiky heels, and all.

I looked up at Vanessa’s narrow eyes. “He bought you a pair of vintage Ferragamos? He hates shopping.”

She flung the envelope with the hateful photo at me and I got to my feet wielding the letter opener in self defense.

The rat parachuted onto the carpet from her bag and was yipping. He started running in circles around the legs of his masters’ chair. He sniffed and then lifted his leg.

Vanessa bent, opening the beast’s haven, and he hopped in. “Good boy, CoCo.” She stood as straight as an arrow. “You can send me a bill for that, but I won’t pay it.”

Something deep inside me broke open in the light of her willful sense of entitlement. “Remember who got the flowers and the Ferragamos,” I said to the slammed door.

The sweet scent of the roses overwhelmed the scent CoCo had left. I brought the flowers to my desk settling them on the edge, blocking the last location of the beasts and their refuse.

There was something special about a little envelope I had clenched in my fist, perhaps it was the proportion of the card to the magnitude of the messages it brought. I thought of all the ‘Happy Birthdays, Congratulations, and just because I love you and a minute card never seemed large enough to carry the enormity of all those sentiments. Slipping the little card out of its nest I read it twice.

Libby, thank you for giving me something to look forward to for the rest of my life—Cass. Aidan.

Vicki came into the office. “I know there was a bitch in here. It smells like dog piss.” Her hands went to what used to be her waist. “What did the skank want?”

I handed her the envelope. “I need to clean this stench.”

Vicki stood transfixed, her mischievous grin becoming slightly flushed. “I’ll do that for you.” Her eyes never left the photo as she headed in the direction of the bathroom cleaning supply closet.

I cleared my throat and held out my hand. “I think not Vicki; you’ve had to clean up enough of my messes.” When she looked at me over her shoulder, I finished my thought. “You’re pregnant, and this is a hands-and-knees kind of job.”

“He looks pretty choice on his knees, if you know what I mean.” She came to a dead halt. “Are you insinuating I can’t get in this position?” She pointed to the picture.

I swiped it out of her hand and went through the restroom door. “I’m sure you can. But I’m not convinced you could get back up again. Besides its dog pee, not baby pee.”

“You win, getting up posed a slight problem this morning.” She swatted her Mu-Mu to find the shape of her stomach before staring at me knowingly.

We rifled through the broom closet, I grabbed a roll of paper towels and Vicki handed me a rusted can of carpet cleaner. I was out the door when I realized that she wasn’t behind me. I heard the stall door clang closed. I heard Vicki say, “Sorry, Lib, if I even look at a toilet, I have to go.”

I stuck my head back in the room. “Anything important that needs my attention?”

“Aidan did call for you twice and Rat Bastard called down from upstairs several times saying he wanted to see you.”

“Great, just what I need right now. About a case?”

“Nope he just said, and I quote, ‘tell her I want her.’”

“I’m going to disinfect my office. Patch him through, if he calls back down.”

“Whatever grinds your gears.”

I was on my hands and knees blotting, spraying and cursing the bitch, whether it was the bitch dog, or bitch master who irked me more, when a shiny pair of wingtips appeared in the circle of foamy carpet cleaner.

I looked up long legs knowing immediately who it was. My boss, Mr. Matt Caster, a senior partner, fondly referred to as

Rat Bastard. He neglected to offer me assistance to my feet.

“I like you on your knees, Elizabeth.”

It was one of the least offensive things he’d said of late. I still held out hope he’d get crushed by a garbage truck, hit by a Metra train or free fall from an elevated train station.

Rat Bastard was one of those obnoxious middle aged men who were superior only in his own mind. He was a tall stocky man, past his prime with thinning hair and a twitching mustache. His grey eyes were cold, cynical, and calculating—so focused on his pursuit that he refused to take in all the information. A bad trait for an attorney, but his ego permitted little else.

He hadn’t specifically said
sleep with me and I'll take your career places
, but he rubbed up as close to it as he could.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Caster?” I knew one day I was going to slip up and call him Rat Bastard. If it weren’t for my health coverage, I might have let it slip months ago.

He took in my desk top and the large floral arrangement. I rested my rear against the center of the desk, crossing my arms over my chest. He looked at the flowers again and raised an eyebrow in question. I refused to answer.

“Boyfriend?” He finally gave in and asked.

“Yes. Aren’t they lovely?”

“I didn’t know you were involved with anyone. Are you sure this is a good idea, with what's going on with your son?”

“I appreciate your concern, but my personal life is just that. Personal.”

“When you needed time off for your son, you didn’t feel the need to keep it so private.”

“For clarifications sake, I have more personal and vacation days coming to me than any two lawyers combined. I also have someone to care for Cass, so you have no worries in regards to my ability to do my job. But thank you for your concern for the well being of my child.”

“I came to speak with you about the Accardo case. These are very serious charges, and he’s a very important client.”

“I know. That’s why I arranged for bond. The trial starts on Wednesday, and I am up to speed. The DA’s charges won’t stick. Mr. Accardo has a tail, probably the FEDS. Whatever is going on is bigger than these charges. Is there a problem?”

“No, he sung your praises for fifteen minutes. I can’t figure out why.”

“Because I’m a damn good lawyer.”

“Is he the new boyfriend?”

“Sorry, that crosses attorney-client privilege.”

“You’re my associate before you’re his lawyer.”

“I have nothing else to say. If you have further questions, I think you should direct them to Mr. Accardo.”

He took a step toward me, invading my personal space. His sour breath grazed my cheek. I refused to turn toward him, staring at my office door.

“Sooner or later you will give me what I want, and it will include, but not be limited to, you down on your knees.”

He leered into me. I continued to stare at the office door, awaiting my rescue. If he was suddenly projected out of our solar system, my skin would still crawl with the memory of his proximity. I slid a few inches, away wishing it were miles.

Rat Bastard picked up a wedge of my disheveled hair and brought it to his nose, then licked it. “The color of your hair is beautiful, Elizabeth. Does it match the other? I can’t wait to run my fingers through it all. I do hope you have a full bush. I dislike the shaved snatch.” As he relinquished the hair he rubbed it against where he assumed my nipple would be.

My eyes remained glued to the door. Any second now, Vicki would burst through it. She’d never leave me in here alone too long with Rat Bastard.

As if I willed it, the door silently opened and the entire doorframe was filled with a pair of wide shoulders, and blue eyes villainously sly focused on the hand that was on my breast.

19

DEFENDING THE MOUND

Every pitch, perfect or not, is a potential home run. Preacher Roe

Aidan 10 a.m.

Vicki’s kohl-rimmed eyes bugged out so far from her sockets at my prompt arrival that their golden centers appeared like a warning lights blinking off a rain slick bridge. I was irked when she told me to take a seat in the waiting area after she called me down here. I scratched at the glitter ring around my wrist in agitation. No matter how many times I washed, the glitter lingered.

“Where’d you get that?” Vicki asked.

“Some kid? Why?”

Vicki shook her head. “I had one, once.”

I gave the voodoo-priestess a shrug that said whatever. The only thing about Vicki that had changed since college was the number of exotic hair colors she wore at one time, she still had the ability to look at me like she was examining my soul.

Vicki moved to Libby’s office door and crooked her finger for me to follow. “I considered arsenic for the original problem, but you can handle this manifestation.” She threw open the door shifting her width for my view. “Mr. Palowski, you need an appointment.” I crammed the doorway as Vicki skittered away.

I stood stock still, studying the grotesque scene.

My feet started in their direction, ready before the rest of me to do him bodily harm. I would have done the same for any woman, but no one would treat Libby like this, while I drew air.

The man had enough sense to step away, but he was still several miles from where he should’ve been. He changed his body language, and his sneer melded into a submissive smile as I approached. The smirk vanished as my fist met his mouth.

My follow-through uppercut sent him flying across the desk, knocking off a vase of flowers. The rat landed in a sprawled pile on the other side of the desk with pieces of baby’s breath festooned his thinning hair. His twitching nose squirted blood, which saturated his already wet shirtfront.

In the remoteness of my mind I heard Libby say, “Oh shit.”

He was trying to gain his feet, but his hands slid through the water and he ended up in a crumbled mound, after his chin met the edge of the desk in a resounding whack. When his stunned mouth opened to speak, two of his teeth went flying.

Libby saved a stack of legal pads and a manila envelope from the water as I stalked around the desk. The louse had enough sense to back away on his elbows as I tracked him with my wrath.

“If you utter another despicable word, I’ll bury you alive and dance on your grave.”

“I think you misunderstood,” he offered with a distinctive lisp as he swiped away blood. The two front teeth were a small price to pay in exchange for his life. And any price I’d have to pay was worth putting this middle-aged mongrel in his place.

“I comprehended every nuance.” I thundered and shook my head in disgust at him. “If you touch her again, she’s going to slap you with a sexual harassment suit so fast you won’t have time for your head to spin. And, believe me, when I come riding into the courtroom in her defense, people will stand up and take notice. You’ll be paying her until you have no teeth left.” I loomed over him. I had a fleeting thought about what I had told Cass about intimidation, reevaluating my stance.

He nodded his acknowledgment as he struggled to his feet with a hand clasped to his mouth, trying to steady himself with the other along the edge of the desk. “We’ll talk later,” he mumbled through his fingers toward Libby on his way to the door.

I stalked after him. “Her office door remains open. If it’s something confidential, you meet in that lovely glass conference room down the hall so that anyone walking by can see you. I’ll make sure Vicki understands that. I believe Mr. Rodgers and Mr. Whitney are golf buddies with Cyrus Fletcher who happens to do whatever I ask.”

He flinched at the mention of Fletch’s name. “You won’t need to involve anyone else.”

I slammed the door in his wake and turned on Libby, who wore a combined look of stark relief and trepidation. I wanted her in my arms, but she backed away, along the desk behind her. “Are you trying to ruin my career? That was my boss you just slugged, for heaven’s sake.”

I grasped her wrist pulling her head onto my chest in that spot between my shoulder and clavicle. My body seemed designed with her in mind, she fit there perfectly; I felt a deep, drawn breath before I felt something wet. I drew my thumbs over her tears pushing them away as I looked into her face. “How long has this been going on?”

She had a far-off look in her eyes before she hiccupped an answer. “Too long, but it’s escalated lately. He knows I’m going to be promoted and then his little perversion would be altered.”

“It’s over.” I kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry.”

“It isn’t over! If anything, he’ll be even more vicious when he gets to me.”

I pulled her chin up. “Trust me. He won’t do anything. Fletch will take care of Rat Bastard.”

She pulled away, a crazed look taking hold of her eyes. “Where’d you hear that name?”

“Cass.” I looked around. “What’s that awful smell?”

She knotted her arms in a defensive gesture while thumping a foot in irritation. “You remember Co-Co? Bald, brown, bitch.”

I groaned inwardly. “I hate that canine cockroach.”

“Not quite as much as my office furniture does.”

“What did she want?”

“She wants me to deliver the message as to how important it is that you go back to her.” She grabbed paper towels, blotting up the mess on her desktop. “Now, I’ve completed my civic duty. Go back to your heartless fiancée, and stay out of my life. I don’t have time to deal with this shit right now.”

“Apparently, from what just occurred, I might prove handy.”

“I forgot to ask why you barged in here in the first place.” She glared, stabbing pencils into her pen holder, while she lined up a stack of legal pads for execution.

“Vicki asked me to charge in here. Were you going to wait until he started undressing you before you screamed for help?”

She raised that single wing swept eyebrow in threat while she sliced through sealed envelopes with a letter opener like she was slicing through my guts.