Three of a Kind: Tales of Luck, Chance & Misfortune

by C. J. Pinard

  Noah knew he was acting cowardly, but he also felt if he told her, she would just file for divorce and get half of everything he’d worked so hard for. As he sat at his desk, he leaned back in his five-hundred dollar black leather chair and tapped a pencil to his mouth as he stared out of his gigantic plate glass window.

  Snow flurries were blowing in violent circles as they attempted to descend on the city. He envied their freedom. As he stared, he racked his brain to think of a way out of his marriage. He once again thought maybe he should just give her half.

  Didn’t she deserve it, after all? said the imaginary angel on his left shoulder.

  Hell no, she barely works. That money is yours! said the imaginary devil on his right shoulder.

  A soft voice broke him out of his reverie. “Knock knock. Noah, you got a second?”

  Caroline from Personnel.

  He smiled as he eyed her red suit that consisted of a very tight-fitting blazer and an even tighter skirt that fell well above the knee. She had beautifully tanned legs and the red pumps set them off nicely. She was carrying a manila folder.

  “By all means, have a seat,” he said, indicating the chairs in front of his desk.

  She smiled and looped a strand of shiny straight brown hair behind her ear. Her smile caused her amber-colored eyes to light up her face. “So, we’ve had an update to our life insurance policies and you have to fill out a new form naming a beneficiary in the unfortunate circumstance of your death.”

  Noah smiled at her. “That’s not going to happen. I am gonna live forever.”

  “Ha-ha,” she said, pushing a piece of paper and a pen toward him. “Just fill it out and sign it. I still have to hit up accounting after this, and you know how those guys feel like they need to read every little thing before they sign it.”

  Noah handed her back her pen and pulled his own Cross pen from his suit jacket. He looked over the paperwork and frowned.

  “Why does this list Ashley Graham as my beneficiary?” he asked.

  She looked confused. “Because that’s who was on the previous form. We just have to update the forms because of new laws, so the computer spit out whoever was already on it.”

  “Oh,” he said, looking relieved.

  “Um, if you need to change it, there’s a line below it. Just cross off her name and put somebody else,” she said, pointing at the page.

  He stared at it for a few minutes and decided it would be prudent and proficient of him to just change the beneficiary now so he wouldn’t forget once he got the divorce he still wanted so badly. He smiled and lined through her name and wrote something below it. He signed the paper and handed it back to Caroline.

  She looked at the paper and raised an eyebrow. “The Make-A-Wish Foundation?”

  He grinned like the devil and leaned back in his chair again, his arms behind his head. “Sure, why not? I’m a charitable guy.”

  She shook her head. “I guess things aren’t working out between you and Ashley, huh?”

  He also shook his head. “Nope, like I told you guys at Paddy’s a few weeks ago, I want out.”

  She stood up and smoothed out her skirt, then plucked the manila folder off of his desk. “Well, good luck with that.” Then she turned and walked toward his door. Her perfect ass did not go unnoticed by him. As she came to the doorframe, she stopped and placed a hand on it. “Once you get out of your… situation, give me a call.” And with that she was gone, off to the next employee.

  He smiled again. Oh yes, I must find a way to be free, he thought.

  On the way home from work that evening, he decided to hit the Starbucks drive-thru for an iced coffee. As he was digging fifteen cents out of his ashtray, a card fluttered out and hit the floor. He bent to pick it up and stared at it.

  “Sir, that’s three-fifteen,” said the Starbucks barista at the window. She was holding out a sweating glass of iced coffee.

  “Oh, sorry,” he said, looking up at her. She was a cute young blonde with her hair in two low pigtails. She handed him his drink and winked at him. He flushed slightly and handed her the money and drove off.

  When he came to the next stoplight, he looked at the business card. “Who are you?” he breathed aloud, staring at the card. The light turned green and he pulled out his phone and dialed as he drove.

  The phone rang loudly through the Bluetooth on his ear.

  “Sean O’Brien,” said a voice with a heavy accent.

  “Um, Mr. O’Brien, this is Noah Graham, do you remember me?”

  Why am I nervous? Noah asked himself.

  Sean grinned. “Oh yes, of course I remember you. Did you give some thought to my proposition?”

  “Yes, I have. Can you tell me a little about it?”

  “Not over the phone. Meet me at Jack’s Bistro on fifty-third tomorrow at noon. Will that work for you?” Sean asked.

  Noah was silent for a minute. “I’d have to check my schedule, but I think I’m free for lunch tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”

  He hit the end call button and smiled to himself, feeling a tiny bit of hope. He wasn’t sure what this O’Brien character could do for him, but he was willing to hear him out.

  What did he have to lose?

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  The next day was chaos at work. Meetings, phone calls, fires to put out. A huge drop in the Microsoft stock caused clients and employees alike to be sweating it out. Noah was obsessively watching the market, as well as his own personal investments, to be sure he wasn’t losing too much money.

  He went to grab a sticky note from the drawer and looked down at his hand. “12:00 – Jack’s” was written in black ink on the palm of his hand. A bad habit from college, writing things on his hand. It was barely readable now and he cursed under his breath. He checked the clock, it was 11:40. He grabbed his suit jacket and told his secretary he had a lunch meeting and he’d be back later.

  “But there’s no lunch meeting on your calendar, Mr. Graham,” she called out as he flew into a closing elevator.

  He ignored her and took the elevator to the parking garage and got in his Audi, barely making it to the Bistro by noon.

  He walked in and told the hostess he was meeting someone. That’s when he spotted Sean O’Brien at the bar, nursing what was probably… Irish whiskey.

  “Mr. O’Brien, sorry I’m late,” Noah said, putting out his hand.

  Sean set his whiskey down and shook Noah’s proffered hand. “No worries, I knew you would show.”

  Noah was both amused and disturbed by that comment. “Okay. Do you want to get a seat?”

  Sean shook his head. “Nah, I prefer the bar. It’s noisier in here so nobody can eavesdrop on our conversation.”

  Noah was again disturbed but said nothing.

  Sean took another slow swig of his Jameson and then smacked his lips. “Aye, I’ll never get used to that burn.”

  Noah smiled. “I stick with beer. The hard stuff makes for a rough morning.”

  “Indeed.”

  Noah looked around the bar and was hoping the guy would just get to the point so he could go back to the chaos of work.

  “So, I understand you want out of your marriage?” Sean started, not looking at Noah, but staring straight ahead at all the bottles that lined the back bar.

  Noah chagrinned. “Yes, you could say that. The problem is, I really don’t think I should have to give her half of everything.”

  “Why not?”

  Noah scoffed. “What do you mean ‘why not?’” I’ve worked my ass off. I have a Master’s Degree in Finance and have worked long, hard hours to get to the position I’m in at my company. I have meticulously saved and scrimped and invested. She hasn’t done shit but whined.”

  “What does she whine about?” Sean asked.

  Noah was getting irritated that Sean wasn’t looking at him when he spoke. He cleared his throat. “Well, uh, just about everything. She wants kids but it’s not happening, and I’m not spending ten grand on that in-vitro shit. It’s not lik
e it comes with a money-back guarantee if it doesn’t work, ya know?”

  Sean laughed humorlessly. “Indeed.”

  Noah paused. “So, what can you do for me?”

  Sean set his now-empty glass down and finally looked at Noah. Measuring him with a serious stare from his cloudy blue eyes, he said, “I can get you out of your predicament, while you break away unscathed.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I have ways of getting people to agree to things they wouldn’t normally agree to,” Sean replied.

  “Do I even want to know how?” Noah asked, signaling to the bartender.

  Sean laughed again. “No, you probably don’t. Let’s just say I possess an elixir that, how should I put it, clouds people’s judgment.”

  “Wow, I sure could use that in court once I file for divorce,” Noah replied.

  Sean waved a hand in the air. “Eh, court, no need for that. You simply draw up a divorce contract that states she will only walk away with X amount of money, and I’ll ensure she signs it.”

  Noah laughed. “Seriously? So if I write that I’ll give her five grand, and that’s all she gets, she’ll sign it?”

  “Damn skippy, son.”

  The bartender set a glass of beer in front of Noah. He took a sip and wiped foam from his upper lip. “Huh. So, then, I have to ask, what do you get in return?”

  “Well, that’s easy, Noah. Whatever you agree to give her, I get the same. So if you give her five grand, you give me five grand. Is it worth ten grand to get out of your marriage?”

  Noah chuckled. “Uh, yeah. I keep that much change in my mattress at home,” he mused.

  “Perfect. We have a deal then?” Sean asked, putting his hand out.

  Noah shook his hand. “Oh yes, we have a deal.”

  “I’ll have the contract drawn up and we’ll meet here on Friday, same time.”

  Noah almost choked on his sip of beer. “Contract?”

  Sean smiled. “Well yes, son, wouldn’t you prefer this in writing?”

  “Um, no I actually don’t. How about we just arrange to meet here next week at the same time? I’ll bring Ashley, and you can slip that crap into her drink while I break the news to her.”

  “As you wish.” Sean pulled a twenty dollar bill and set it on the bar and walked out.

  Noah watched him leave and shook his head and smiled.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  The work week flew by. On Friday morning, Noah was sick with nerves. He was excited to start the beginning of the end of his marriage, but he was nervous at the anticipation of Ashley’s reaction. He did still love her somewhere in the deep recesses of his heart, but he just couldn’t stay married. At 9:30 a.m., he sent her a text message:

  Meet me for lunch at Jack’s Bistro downtown at noon?

  Ashley had just finished changing a diaper and felt the phone vibrate in her pocket. She kissed the baby on the top of his head and placed him back in one of the many cribs, then went to wash her hands. After she dried them off, she pulled the phone out and smiled. “What are you up to, Mr. Graham?” she said quietly to herself. She responded to his text by saying she would be there.

  At 11:30, she grabbed her coat and told her boss she was going to lunch.

  “Really? You never go to lunch,” remarked her boss, Mary, the owner of the daycare.

  Ashley smiled. “Noah wants to meet me for lunch. Maybe he has a surprise for me.”

  “Well, have fun,” Mary said to her retreating figure.

  As she drove downtown, she had to fight for a parking spot and cursed under her breath at the city. She really did prefer the suburbs. Big cities made her nervous.

  She finally found a parking space and walked inside. Looking around, she spotted Noah and smiled, walked over to his table and sat down. She placed the cloth napkin on her lap over her pink dress and removed the white sweater she was wearing.

  He smiled nervously at her. “Hi.”

  “Hi, babe. So what’s the occasion?”

  “Let’s order first. I got you your water with lemon.”

  She took a sip. “Thanks.”

  He again smiled lamely at her and buried his face in the menu. He hoped whatever the stuff Sean O’Brien had slipped into her water before she arrived would work. He briefly wondered what it was. Sodium Pentothal, maybe… truth serum? He was kicking himself for not asking how long he should wait before breaking the news. Did this elixir have a waiting period? Did it have an expiration time?

  Calm down, Noah, he told himself.

  She looked up at him then at the large orange envelope on the table. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing at it.

  Noah looked up from the menu. “Huh?”

  “That, what’s in the envelope?” she asked.

  He licked his lips then looked up at her. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about…”

  Just then, the server came by. “Have you decided?”

  Ashley smiled up at the woman. “Yes I’ll have the seafood salad please.”

  “And you, sir?”

  “Asian salad, please.”

  They handed the menus back to the server and as Noah looked up, he could see Sean O’Brien perched at the bar, nursing another whiskey. He did not look in Noah’s direction.

  “So, what did you get me?” she teased, looking at the envelope.

  He tentatively pulled the legal documents out of the envelope and looked directly into her eyes. “Ashley, I want a divorce.”

  Ashley’s eyes immediately filled with tears as she sucked in a breath. “Oh no,” she whimpered, once she found her voice.

  “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to be married anymore. It really is me and not you.”

  A lone teardrop escapes and splashes onto the white tablecloth as she looks at her husband. “But I don’t understand…”

  He grabbed her hand. “There’s nothing to understand. We got married too young and never got to truly live. It’s time we go our separate ways.”

  She sniffled and pulled her hand away to wipe her nose on a tissue she’d pulled from her purse.

  “I don’t want to go our separate ways. I want to continue living my life… with you. I meant my wedding vows. Didn’t you mean yours?”

  Noah sighed and raked a hand through his short, black hair. “Ashley, look. We were kids. It really should be illegal for people to get married that young.”

  She said nothing, just glared at him as her anger began to grow. She took a large gulp of the water to calm herself, not knowing the power it held.

  He pulled out the papers and handed them to her. “Look. I’m prepared to give you five-thousand dollars in cash, and whatever we get from the sale of the house we’ll split, okay?”

  She tentatively drew the papers toward her and looked at them. “You had… papers drawn up already… without discussing it with me first?”

  His patience is already growing thin. “There’s nothing to discuss, Ashley. I don’t want to be married anymore, and I don’t intend to be for very much longer. Please, sweetie, just sign them. Let’s move on with our lives.”

  Her eyes snapped up from the page. “Don’t call me ‘sweetie’, you jerk.”

  He was taken aback by her anger, but handed her a pen anyway. “Please.”

  Even though she was angry, hurt, betrayed, and heartbroken, she proceeded to sign her name by the little “sign here” sticker. Her mind felt as if it were floating, like her hand was doing what her mind was screaming for her not to. She felt lightheaded and in a trance. Then she suddenly felt calm, as if everything would be okay.

  Noah slid a glance to Sean at the bar, who was now looking at them, calmly sipping his drink. He winked at Noah.

  Ashley slid the papers back to him just as the server brought their salads.

  “Can I get you folks anything else?” the server asked.

  Ashley looked at her food, put a hand to her mouth, and went running toward the restroom. Both Noah and the server watched her go.

  “She
… wasn’t feeling well earlier,” Noah lied.

  The server smiled faintly and walked off.

  Noah signed the papers himself and slipped them back into the envelope, then into his briefcase. He then lifted his fork and began eating with a smile on his face.

  Ashley stayed in the bathroom the entire meal and Noah ordered her salad to go.

  After paying the bill, Noah walked over to Sean at the bar and handed him an orange envelope full of money. He then got in his car and threw his briefcase and the container of food onto the front seat and drove the Audi back to his office with a satisfied grin on his face.

  Ashley had purposely waited until Noah left before coming out of the restroom. She walked out of the restaurant with her head down and out to her car, which was parked in front. As she was unlocking the door, she heard a voice behind her.

  “Excuse me, miss.”

  She whipped around and smiled weakly at the short, older man. “Yes?”

  “Pardon my candor, but I overheard the conversation in the restaurant with your… husband.”

  She looked surprised. “Um, okay?”

  “My name is Sean O’Brien and I think I can help you.” He handed her a business card.

  “Are you an attorney? Because I think I just signed some papers that I shouldn’t have.”

  He chuckled. “No, miss, you most certainly should not have signed those papers.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “How do you even know what was on them?”

  “Oh, trust me, I know. But I think I can help you. Care to go back inside and have a drink at the bar?”

  She inhaled sharply. “No, I can’t. I have to get back to work. How I’m gonna make it through the day is a mystery, but apparently, I now really need to keep my job.”

  Sean smiled at her. “It’s not a problem, dear. You just give me a call and we’ll work something out.” He winked at her and walked off, whistling as his cane clicked against the rough stone sidewalk.

  Ashley eyed the curious stranger and threw the card into her purse, forgetting all about it.