Anthony
“He said everything was going to be okay,” the woman sniffles into her tissue and continues sobbing. “He promised!”
“I know he did, and I’m sorry about what happened to you,” I push the box of tissues closer to the crying woman. “But Mrs. Hunter, it sounds like there’s nothing more you can do. He’s made his choice, and I’m going to do my best to make sure you get everything you deserve.”
She looks up at me. Her big, watery eyes are pleading. “But all I want is him,” she whispers. “All I’ve ever wanted was him.”
By the time my newest client leaves, it’s nearly time to go home.
“Doing okay in here?” Kennedy, my paralegal, peeks her head in.
“Yeah, I’m all right,” I tell her, waving her off. “You can take off for the day.”
“Thank you very much,” Kennedy winks and closes my office door when she leaves. I see her walking away through my interior office windows. She walks with a bounce in her step, and I realize that Kennedy seems happy.
Really happy.
Maybe that’s what makes her the best paralegal I’ve ever had. She works hard, she’s always on time, and she never complains. She doesn’t whine. Kennedy does her job with a smile and when she works on a project, she gives it her all. She is one of the few lights in my day.
Divorce is a messy business. Contrary to popular opinion, not all divorce attorneys are bad guys. Oh, I’m a shark when it comes to helping my clients. I’m ruthless. I’ll go the whole way, but I’m not a bad guy. I don’t go looking for trouble. I don’t need to get a jury all riled up to feel like I’m a good attorney. I win, and I win, and I win, and that’s what makes me feel like a good attorney.
Sometimes, though, my job can be completely emotionally exhausting.
When I meet someone new at work, ninety-nine percent of the time, that person is having the worst day of their life. Either they’ve chosen to leave their spouse or they’ve discovered their spouse is leaving them. No matter who decides to leave first, divorce is never simple. It’s never clean. It’s never easy.
It’s dirty, and it wears me out.
By the time I leave the office, I’m ready to call it a day, but I promised Zack I’d meet him for a drink at Drinking Games. My best friend since law school, Zack is someone I can never say no to. Hell, he’s someone I never want to say no to. He’s always been there for me, and I’ve always been there for him. We have an incredible friendship, and I’m lucky to have him in my life.
Tonight, I don’t feel like being social, but somehow, I make it to the little bar and make myself comfortable on one of the stools at the bar.
“What’ll it be, sir?” I look up at the bartendress. Her dark hair is pulled back and she’s wearing a corset top with jeans. I don’t know if most people could pull off the look or not, but she seems to.
“I like your boots,” I tell her.
“My boobs?”
“No,” I lean over the bar and point down to her feet. “Your boots,” I say. “You look like a cowgirl.”
“Well, yippee-kay-ay,” she winks. “What are you drinking?”
“Whiskey sour,” I tell her, and she smiles and moves away to start making the drink. While she pours, I take a look around. Drinking Games is a smaller place, but it’s got a fun, comfortable atmosphere. There are several round tables throughout the room, along with a jukebox and some pool tables.
“Like what you see?” The woman appears with my drink and sets it in front of me.
“Yeah, it’s not too bad,” I tell her. “When did you guys open?”
“Two months ago,” she says.
“You guys get pretty busy in here?”
“You’d be surprised.”
The bartendress turns and heads off to make a drink for someone else, but I’m not alone for long. It’s only a few minutes before Zack strides through the bar and over to where I’m sitting. Despite being a real estate lawyer, Zack has a commanding presence. People hear what kind of law he deals with, and they assume he’s somehow weak. He’s not.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Zack says. He motions for the bartendress and she scurries over.
“Hey Zack. What’ll it be?”
“Sam Adams draft.”
“You got it, boss.”
“Boss?” I mouth silently to him. Zack just shrugs.
“I come here a lot,” he says.
“Trouble at home?”
“Not at all. Christina usually comes with me. If we’re not at Anchored, but we still want a night out, we’ll come here. It’s close to work, close to home, and the drinks are cheap.”
“Plus, the views are unbeatable,” I say, nodding my head toward the woman running the bar, but Zack just rolls his eyes.
“Out of your league,” he says.
“Is that right?”
“He’s right,” the woman says. “And I have a name. It’s Jennifer.”
“Nice to meet you,” I pantomime tipping my invisible hat to her, and she chuckles before giving Zack his beer. Then she heads off to make more drinks. She glides quickly when she moves, and it’s almost like she’s floating. How does she do that?
“How was your day?” Zack asks, sipping his drink.
“About as well as can be expected.” Zack and I work in the same building, on the same floor, but our work rarely intersects these days. We’re still close and we still meet for lunch on occasion, but we’re both so wrapped up in our own cases that we’ve taken to scheduling time together.
“Nasty cases this week?”
“You don’t want to know,” I roll my eyes, but then I tell him anyway. “The thing is, if people just continued to treat each other the way they did at the beginning of the relationship, they’d never end up divorced. You know why people walk through my office doors, Zack?”
“Tell me,” he looks amused.
“Because they get lazy, and they get stagnant, and they don’t fucking communicate with each other.”
Fuck.
I shouldn’t let it get to me this week. It’s just another week. These are not my relationships. I am not a counselor. My job isn’t to save a failing marriage; it’s to get the best deal for my client.
“You sound bitter.”
“I am. I’ve seen some women this week who had no clue their husbands were cheating, no idea they were so unhappy. I had a guy who didn’t know his wife of eight years had secretly been stashing away cash so she could leave him. He didn’t want a damn thing in the divorce, Zack. He just told me he wants her to be happy.”
“Damn.”
“He didn’t want anything. He gave her more than half of what he had in the bank. He gave her stocks. He gave her the house. He gave her everything. You know what he told me?”
Zack sighs. “Tell me.”
“He said he can make the money back. It’s just money. That’s what he told me. He said he knows it isn’t going to buy her happiness, but he’s going to do anything in his power to make sure she lives a good, happy life, even if it’s not with him.”
“That’s heavy.”
“I don’t know how long I can keep doing this, man.”
“You thinking of making a switch?”
“I don’t know. Part of me wants to.”
Zack doesn’t react. He might work in property law, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t damn great at what he does. Like me, he’s perfected his poker face. He needs it when he’s dealing with clients, when he’s dealing with other attorneys, when he’s dealing with people in general.
“How long have you been thinking about this?” Zack asks casually.
“Awhile.”
We sit in silence for a few minutes, staring at the television screen behind the bar. There’s a game on, but neither one of us is really paying attention. The screen blurs in a series of colors, and I have no idea who is winning, who is playing, or what sport we’re watching.
All I know is that I’m very, very unhappy, and I need something new, something different.
I need something fresh.
“Maybe you just need to get laid,” Zack says helpfully.
“Fuck you.”
“It’s been awhile since you had a regular sub, or any sub at all, really.”
“My Domination habits are none of your business.”
“He’s right, you know,” Jennifer appears with two fresh drinks. “It’s not good for Doms to go too long without a soft little sub to take care of.”
I stare at her, shocked that she’s just blatantly intruding on our conversation, and then I look at the drinks.
“I didn’t order these,” I manage to say.
“On the house, boys,” she winks. “No offense, but you seem like you could use them.”
She heads off again, and I look at Zack, confused.
“Seriously, who the hell is this girl?”
He just shrugs and sips his fresh beer. “Magical, if you ask me.” He sets the glass back down. “You know, you could explore some other career options. There’s nothing wrong with changing your path.”
“What? And work in real estate with you?”
“Oh, we could have fun with that, but I don’t think you’d like it.”
“No?”
“It’s too quiet for you,” Zack says thoughtfully. “You need a rush. You need something fast paced, something that will keep you busy.”
“I know you’re right. I don’t want to say you are, but you’re right. I’d make it a month in property law before I pulled my hair out and went to live in an isolated cabin in the woods.”
Zack just chuckles. He knows me well. We’ve been friends for fucking forever, after all. He holds up his drink and smiles.
“To you, brother. To your future. To happiness.”
“To finding a way through the darkness,” I say.
I’ll drink to that.