Seven Deadly Sins “ #2
Gallant – Fear - Hopes
“Oh, how gallant.” She murmured while moving through the door held open. Her swaggering movement became just a bit more pronounced. She flipped her long auburn hair over her shoulder then ran a manicured hand down the side of her navy a-line skirt, smoothing out an unseen wrinkle. A sideways glance with round hazel eyes; a look almost of innocence. She was fully aware of her innate power. His smile was genuine, he had no control and she knew it. She was in control as always.
Moving into the foyer, Angela looked back toward the entryway. He was gone. Already moved away. Shocked, she looked back rather quizzically. She was confident he had been even more enthralled with her than she had been of him. Angela knew she drew looks from both men and women. She knew he too was attracted to her, like a moth to a flame. Had he touched her? She could almost feel his hand on the small of her back as she walked through the entryway. His firm hand was warm, rough without frayed calluses, yet gentle enough she wasn’t certain he had actually placed his hands on her at all.
Angela Watkins felt, not for the first time, that someone had not only touched her physically but mentally. Within her field of vision, the world shifted just a little. She felt a little unsteady on her feet. He was nowhere to be seen. Shaking her head, Angela put the thought of the handsome man out of her mind. She had bigger fish to fry and needed to keep her eye on the prize, as her mother used to say.
Walking past the fresh cut flowers arranged on elegant tables throughout the opulent foyer, Angela glanced at her reflection in the mirror. A little too flushed, she thought. Flushed faced would be a big “tell” her opponent would quickly read and read too much into it as well. A quick stop in the powder room would give her a moment to slow her heart rate. He was a very handsome man.
Opening the door to her office, Angela ran her fingers over the door lettering. Angela Watkins. Her name on the smoky glass door always made her smile. She had worked hard to get there. She will have to continue to work hard to keep it there. Esquire, attorney, barrister, legal beagle, counsel, fixer; she relished every name anyone could come up with for her. She had cold steel for veins and was proud of it.
Entering her office, Angela couldn’t help but notice the very large bouquet of flowers on her desk. Lovely variety, multicolored, just as she like them. All the colors of the rainbow to be a delight to everyone.
Bending to smell the flowers she also reached for the accompanying card. The card inside the envelope was a business card. There was only what she assumed was a name; P. Ride. “Ten o’clock p.m., O’Malley’s Hearts and Roses Pub, tonight”
The furrow between her eyebrows became deep. Shaking her head, she gathered her necessary paperwork. A bit of an uneasy feeling crept up Angela’s spine. With a quick shiver, she glanced around her office. Nothing seemed out of place. The flowers were the only addition.
Quietly closing her office door behind her, Angela again admired the door lettering. Her name on the door was still new and exciting. Turning to ask Joy, her assistant a question about the flowers, she found only an empty chair. Joy was not at her desk, which was rather unusual. Joy lived for her job.
Joy was the best paralegal Angela had ever Had the pleasure to work with. Because of her proficiency, Angela made certain the short blonde had anything she wanted to make her job easier. In her late fifties, Joy had the experience to anticipate Angela’s next move and the contacts to make almost anything happen. Between the two of them, they made am unmoving team.
This was Angela’s fifth divorce this month. It seemed the divorce cases were beginning to pile up. Both Angela and Joy were proud of the reputation they had acquired. Fair and reasonable. Not reasonably price, necessarily, but reasonable in the negotiations. Nobody gets fleeced, nobody hides assets, nobody gets more than they deserve. Angela prided herself on her introduction speech, “Divorce is a lose-lose proposition. Nobody wins except the courts system and the attorneys.” Working with the one of the best detective agencies helps, they are worth every penny she pays them.
In this case, Angela’s client was the husband. Mr. Evan G. Smith. He was a middle aged man, male pattern baldness, paunchy tummy wearing his belt under his belly, and bi-focal glasses. Mr. Smith was already sitting in the conference room, sipping a cup of coffee, muttering to himself. As Angela walked in, she plastered a smile on her lips and greeted Mr. Smith warmly.
“I asked her last night. I called her up just to ask. I just had to know why.” Mr. Smith’s chin began to quiver. “I asked her why she wanted to divorce me. Do you know what she said?” Before Angela could even acknowledge the conversation he went on, “She wants a divorce because she just doesn’t care anymore. Isn’t that the craziest reason you’ve ever heard? She just doesn’t care. My wife was a firecracker! She would get angry at the drop of a hat. Gloria cares about everything. Nothing gets by her. Doesn’t care? It doesn’t make sense…doesn’t care?!”
Reaching for the box of tissue, Angela cooed and patted him on the back. “It will all be over soon, Evan. I am very sorry.” Mr. Smith’s red-rimmed eyes told her he had spent a good portion of last night and this morning with tissues pressed tightly to his face.
Mrs. Smith, along with her attorney, entered the conference room as well. Mrs. Gloria Smith was approximately the same age as her husband. She appeared to be a few inches taller than her husband. The crumbs on her wrinkled lime green dress showed tell-tale signs of her lunch. Mrs. Smith’s red hair screamed for attention to the three inches or so of salt and pepper roots. Mrs. Smith appeared not to care about much of anything.
Mrs. Smith looked out the window, sighed and became fidgety in her chair. Opposing council indicated Gloria’s children had hired him since Gloria Smith just didn’t care whether or not she actually divorced. Upon closure of the meeting, Angela ushered Mrs. Smith and her attorney out of the glass walled conference room. She stood watching them as they walked toward the elevators. Mrs. Smith didn’t seem much like a firecracker.
Time now to find Joy and try to discover who delivered the flowers. The blank envelope gave no indication of which florist it came from, but Joy would have gotten that information. Joy still wasn’t at her desk.
Perplexity showing on Angela’s face, she wondered if she had overlooked a scheduled day off or if she had missed a call from Joy explaining her absence. Angela feared one of them was beginning to slip. Knowing Joy, Angela feared it might be herself.