Santa (Maybe): A Rom Com Novella (6 page)

“You
finally
met woman of your dreams!”

“
Well, sort of.”

“What do you mean,
‘sort of’?”

“She’s someone I knew when I was in high school?”

“High-school sweethearts?”

“Not exactly. She was starting law school when I was a senior.”

“Older woman. Very nice.”

“I was crazy about her.”

“Must still be crazy about her.”

“A little.”

“A little? Dude! I’m offering you your dream opportunity and you’re about to say, ’I’ll think about it and get back to you’.”

“I’ll think about it and get back to you.”
 

Madeleine
slipped into her little red cocktail dress. It was tighter than it had been last Christmas. Too much jam-jar binging. She’d bought the dress right before Chad had informed that he wanted a separation. She hadn’t even worn it that year. It looked great on her though, so despite the bad memories attached, she’d kept it. She saved it for occasions where she didn’t plan on having a good time but had to make a solid effort to look like she was enjoying herself.

Madeleine called Sadie to make sure that she’d gotten Emily from afterschool care. She didn’t need to, but she did it anyway. Sadie wasn’t quite as good as Aunt
Ami—in Emily’s book—but Sadie was still a fun babysitter. She let Sadie do crafts and make messes. Sadie also made sure the messes got cleaned up, which made her a winner, as far as Madeleine was concerned.

Madeleine was one of the first to arrive
at the party. This was intentional. If she was going to sneak out early, she’d better show some enthusiasm at first. Besides, there was always a good buffet and the sooner she got there, the less picked over it would be. Angela came right over, before Madeleine even had time to grab a plate.

“So?” Angela demanded.

“Merry Christmas, Angela.”

“Where’s this dishy personal trainer of yours?”

“I wouldn’t call him dishy. Well, actually—“

But Angela had temporarily lost interest in Madeleine’s love life. She’d spied someone she knew coming in the front door. She left Madeleine and hurried out to the bar.

Madeleine loaded up her plate. She didn’t have to get into the dress she was wearing again until next year. Why not enjoy herself now?

Out in the bar,
Angela was carrying on a very animated conversation with a striking couple. The woman looked familiar. Madeleine wracked her brain and finally placed her. She was a local news anchor. Madeleine couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it looked like Angela was urging them to come in and join the party, and the couple was pretending to have something better to do.

Fifteen
minutes later, Angela interrupted Madeleine’s conversation with the firm’s accountant, Clarence. Clarence was showing off pictures of his newest grand-baby. Angela practically shoved Clarence out of the way. The female half of the couple from out in the bar accompanied Angela. The male half of the couple had peeled off at the last second and headed for the buffet.

“Kristen, this is Madeleine, my
—“

Angela was spectacularly bad a
t introductions. Last year at the Christmas party, she had introduced Madeleine to someone as “her youngest.” Angela had meant, of course, that Madeleine was her youngest attorney-on-staff. The man being introduced had assumed that Madeleine was Angela’s daughter. It had been embarrassing for all three of them.

“Hello, Kristen. Lovely to meet you.” She stuck out her hand before Angela had a chance to put her foot in her mouth.

Kristen took Angela’s hand and looked at her appraisingly.

Trying to de
termine if I have any potential to be useful to her.
If there was one thing practicing law had done for her, it was to make her hyper-sensitive to the motivations of others. This woman was motivated by power. No doubt about it.

“That’s my husband, Billy. Over there.”

Kristen point to the buffet where Billy appeared to be putting the moves on the firm’s receptionist, Cybil. Cybil’s husband was crossing the room with a stormy look on his face. Kristen headed off in their direction to intercept the husband.

Angela took this opportunity to grab Madeleine’s arm and pull her to the side. Angela’s fingernails gripped Madeleine’s arm like talons.

“Take care of Kristen for me,” Angela hissed.

“
Huh?”

“Don’t make me spell it out.”

Madeleine followed Angela’s gaze to Kristen’s handsome other-half. He caught Angela’s eye and winked. Angela blushed.

“Are you sure he’s a good idea?” Madeleine had the courage to ask. He certainly didn’t look like a good idea.
Cheating on your spouse never a good idea. Or was she the only one who thought so?

Where was Angela’s husband, anyway?  He usually showed up with Angela, got drunk and told
sexist jokes until Angela got so embarrassed that she coaxed him into a taxi and sent him home before he threw up on somebody or groped one of her female members of staff.

“My husband is home in bed with the flu,” Angela
whispered. “Don’t look at me like that. Billy and Kristen have an open relationship.”

Madeleine had never actually met a couple who had an open relationship. Well, there
had been the Smiths, but by the time she’d met them they’d been in the midst of an acrimonious divorce.

“Do open relationships
actually work?” Madeleine had to ask the question out loud.

“Don’t be such a
Hopeless Romantic!”

Was
that was the definition of Hopeless Romantic these days? Not cheating on your husband and expecting him not to cheat on you?

”
You’re the boss.” Madeleine shrugged. That was the only reason she was going to be party to this.

“Whatever you do—“ Angela hissed, “—don’t do anything to piss
Kristen off. She and I are friends, but I don’t trust her and you’re so—“

Madeleine tried not to be insulted. She didn’t quite succeed.

“I mean. You’re just too nice, that’s all. Nobody’s that nice,” Angela finished lamely. She’d had a couple of drinks. Normally, she wouldn’t be so forthcoming.

“I’m not that nice.” Madeleine protested. She was a divorce lawyer who represented repulsive characters. How nice could she be? And how
was she supposed to distract this Kristen woman? If Billy and Kristen were in an open relationship, why did Kristen even need to be distracted? Whatever. Madeleine just had to survive until Sadie’s ten o’clock call. Then she’d plead babysitter-emergency and take off.

Madeleine went to the bar and got a glass of wine and a co
la. The cola was for her. She never drank in professional settings. She only drank with people who she knew would take care of her if she got drunk. Like Ami. Or Mark.

Mark. She should call Mark.
She should have invited him in the first place. It had been obvious that he’d wanted to come. Get him down here right away and he could try to help her distract this Kristen woman. Madeleine bet Mark could distract Kristen by reciting his times tables. He was that hot.

She still couldn’t wrap her mind around how much
Mark liked her. Her. He should be going out with someone more like—well, more like the girls Chad was attracting these days. Young and thin. Cellulite-free
and
surprisingly smart. Smart. Not wise. There was a big difference. These girls must think that Chad would finally change for them. Because they were that special. Madeleine had believed that, once. She hoped she was wiser now. 

Madeleine set the glasses back down on the bar and took out her phone. She texted Mark.

He texted right back. He’d be there in half an hour.

Madeleine picked up the glasses and headed
toward Kristen who, having successfully deflected Cybil’s husband, was now sitting alone at the edge of the room.

“
I thought you might like some wine?” Madeleine said, playing hostess.

“Sit down and talk to me,”
Kristen said as she accepted the glass.

“Nice party,” Madeleine said.
What a lame thing to say. She’d have to do better than that.

“I know Angela sent you over here
,” Kristen said.

“Oh.” There seemed no point in denying it.

“I don’t mind. My husband and I have an understanding.”

Madeleine didn’t know what to say
to that, so she took a sip of cola.

“I’m glad you came over to talk. The
fact is, I could use some advice,” Kristen continued.

“Legal advice?”

“In a way.”

“I’m not really supposed to giv
e out informal legal advice.”

“I don’t think Angela will mind.” Kristen took a sip of wine and stared across the room to where Angela was
leaning in close to whisper in Billy’s ear. “I believe she owes me. Wouldn’t you say so?”

“What’s the nature of your concern?” Madeleine asked. She might as well take a stab at whatever Kristen’s problem was.
Probably wants to sue her aesthetician for over-plucking her eyebrows.

“
My problem is a man.”

“Your husband?”

“Not even close. My husband never gives me any trouble. Not for a long time, anyway. We understand each other.”

“Who is this man, then?”

“I started seeing a personal trainer a while back.”

Madeleine wondered if it was anyone Mark knew.

“A male personal trainer?”

Probably traumatized her by insinuating that she was slightly overweight. Probably want
s to sue for mental anguish and emotional distress.

“
Yes. By ‘seeing’ I mean that he and I progressed past a strictly professional relationship.”

That didn’t surprise
Madeleine. Kristen was the type. She was a very attractive woman. Sharp, calculating and possibly cruel, but some men went for that.

“It’s helpful if you come straight to the point.” Madeleine always gave th
is advice to new clients and they almost never followed it. They rarely grasped that they were being billed by the minute.

“Well,
I broke up with him.”

“That’s not really a legal problem.”

“Oh, but it is,” Kristen said. “He didn’t take it well. He has embarrassing videos and photographs and he’s trying to blackmail me.”

This was getting interesting. It sounded just like a movie plot.

“How is he trying to blackmail you?”

“He refuses to return them unless I pay him half a million dollars.
Or get back together with him. The fool. Like that’s going to happen.”

Must be some
awfully embarrassing pictures. That didn’t surprise Madeleine either.

“And if you don’t pay
? Or get back together with him?”

“He won’t say. But he’s capable of anything.
I’m terrified of him, to tell you the truth.”

K
risten paused. Tears formed in her eyes.

Maybe
she’d misjudged Kristen? Maybe she did have a heart, after all?  Or not. Madeleine had seen her share of insincere tears. It was too early to tell if these were real. Kristen didn’t seem like the type to stay in an abusive relationship, though. Frankly, something felt off about her. Nothing Madeleine could put a finger on—unless you counted the whole open relationship thing—but there was something else there too, something deeply unsettling.

“And I take it you don’t intend to pay him
off?”

“Certainly not. It’s the principle of the thing.”

So, the woman has principles. At least when it benefits her.

“
Did he take the pictures and video himself?”

“Yes.”

“Then he owns the copyright. Of course, were he to publish them he’d be on shaky legal ground, but as long as he doesn’t sell them to a third party—are you prepared to go to court to get them back?“

“
No. I just want to know how to put pressure on him without getting into trouble myself?”

“What do you mean, pressure?”

“Well, I don’t intend to—this conversation is protected by client-counsel confidentiality, right?”

“I suppose.
Although, this is a little unconventional.”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“So
, I don’t intend to burn down his house or anything, but I’m not adverse to a little dirty work. You know, hold his dog for ransom or something. Cut his brake-lines. Shake him up a little. I guess my question is: if something bad were to happen to him—you know, accidently—is it likely that a jury would convict solely on the basis of circumstantial evidence?”

“You mean
if something bad happens to this ex-lover of yours, could a jury convict you of murder, based solely on circumstantial evidence?”