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

by C. J. Pinard

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Three weeks passed and Noah had managed to put the house up for sale and already had two offers on it, but they were going to barely break even. They each had found apartments to rent, Ashley, a modest studio apartment near the daycare where she worked, and Noah, a top floor penthouse deal with windows overlooking the Windy City. Noah’s attorney had filed the papers through the county courthouse, and the divorce was set to be final in about three months’ time. Since the divorce was amicable, there was no court date needed. They would each get stamped, official papers in the mail with the finalization.

  Ashley sank into a depression. She really had been holding it together, as it was… because of her infertility issues and the fact that Noah worked long hours, along with the extra after work activities he had been engaging in. But Ashley couldn’t hold it together any longer. The divorce was going to push her over the cliff she was already teetering on the edge of.

  At work one day, while Ashley was washing toys in a bleach and water solution in the daycare’s large metal sink, Mary, her boss, came up and rubbed her arm. “Are you okay, honey?”

  Ashley choked back a sob and shrugged, but said nothing. Her tears leaked into the sudsy water.

  Mary handed her a towel. “I’m so sorry. I know it’s hard. I was divorced once, too, a long time ago. It’s like half your soul is being ripped out of your body. They don’t say all that ‘and the two shall be as one’ stuff for nothing, you know.”

  Ashley dried her hands and Mary pulled her into a hug. “We’ll help you through this, we really will. Why don’t you come over for dinner some time? Bill’s a minister, and he’s helped lots of people through hard times.”

  Ashley nodded and wiped away her tears with the towel she was holding. “I’d like that, thank you.”

  When the workday was over, Ashley climbed in her car, bone-weary tired. She drove home and could barely get the key in the door of her new apartment. She tossed her purse onto the sofa. She looked at the sofa and shook her head, remembering all the times she and Noah had sat on it, watching movies, kissing, holding hands, eating pizza, talking…

  “Snap out of it, Ashley,” she hissed at herself. “At least you got to keep the damn thing.”

  She kicked off her shoes and stalked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine. She never bothered with wineglasses anymore; any ol’ glass tumbler would do. She poured the wine and downed it like a shot, then poured herself another glass.

  She went to the sofa, sat down, and flicked on the TV with the remote. She fished through her purse for her cell phone so she could check email and Facebook, since Noah had taken the laptop and she had to save for another.

  “Probably had all his porn on it,” she mumbled to herself, laughing humorlessly.

  As she was digging for her phone, she found Sean’s business card and stared at it. “Who are you, strange little man?” she whispered to herself. She got up and poured herself a third glass of wine and sat back on the sofa. She finally located the phone and hit ‘mute’ on the TV remote and dialed his number.

  “Sean O’Brien,” came his accented greeting.

  “Hi, um, this is Ashley Graham. You gave me your card a few weeks ago?”

  “Oh, hello, dear, how are you?” he asked.

  She sighed. “Honestly, I’ve been better.”

  “I bet. Would you still like to go for that drink?”

  She looked at the wine in her hand and smiled. “Well, to be honest, my divorce will be final soon, and I doubt there’s much you can do for me, Mr. O’Brien.”

  He smiled. “Oh but there is, Mrs. Graham. Meet me at Paddy’s downtown tonight, and let’s discuss it.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Just one stupid question. You’re not coming on to me, are you? ‘Cause I really don’t want to date anyone this soon.”

  He laughed. “No, dear. Just business, I promise.”

  “All right. I will see you there in an hour.”

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Inside Noah’s penthouse, the clothes were flying off faster than should be humanly possible. Noah was unzipping Caroline’s skirt while kissing her passionately.

  She was loosening his black necktie then proceeded to fumble with the buttons on his light blue dress shirt. She stepped out of her skirt when it fell to the ground, not missing a beat. He threw her on the sofa after ripping her silky blouse off and fumbled with her bra strap. She was giggling from all the champagne they had just had at dinner. Two empty champagne flutes were sitting on the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room.

  After he got his pants off, he pinned her arms above her head and continued to plunder her mouth with his own as she wiggled out of her red lace thong underwear and made herself available to him.

  Hours later, after the fun had been moved to the bedroom, they were lying in their bliss. Caroline had her head on his bare chest, tracing it with her red fingernail.

  “You really divorced her, huh?” she asked breathlessly.

  He grinned, his arms behind his head. “Yup. Wanna see the papers? I have them in my desk.”

  She laughed. “No, I don’t need to see them. We’re just having fun here, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “So did you have to give her half?” Caroline asked. She was actually interested in more than just ‘fun’ with Noah, but in no way was she going to admit to it this early in the… relationship.

  He laughed again. “Hell no I didn’t. I threw five grand at her and let her have some of the cheap-ass furniture from the house and she agreed.”

  She lifted her head. “Are you serious? Does she have any idea what you’re worth? You make more than that in a week.”

  He chuckled. “Yep. There’s one born every minute…”

  She laughed, too.

  Ashley was sitting at the bar in Paddy’s, drinking more white wine. She had taken a cab down there, and planned to return home the same way.

  “Mrs. Graham, thanks for meeting me,” said Sean as he walked up, touching her elbow.

  “Ashley, please,” she insisted with a smile. “I’m dropping the ‘Graham’ as soon as I can.”

  “Ashley it is. So what are you drinking?”

  She looked at the glass as she ran her fingers up the stem of the wineglass. “Just a chardonnay. It relaxes me.”

  He smiled. “Indeed.”

  “The usual, Sean?” said the bartender as he wiped down the countertop.

  “Yes, John, thank you.”

  She looked at him, surprised. “Come here often, do ya?”

  “Yes, I love this place. So full of life.” He looked around.

  She took a sip of her wine as John laid a glass of whiskey on a napkin in front of Sean. He lifted it to John and smiled.

  “So what can you help me with, Mr. O’Brien?” she asked.

  He smirked at her. “I have a proposition for you.”

  She perched an eyebrow at him over her wineglass. “I’m listening.”

  “I’m not at liberty to say how I know this, but I do know the terms of your divorce, and I know that you… how can I put this mildly…. were screwed.”

  She let out a mirthful laugh. “Yeah, you can say that again.”

  “There is a way for you to get more than the five-thousand he paid you.”

  “No, there’s not. The divorce is final in two weeks, and he’s taken my name off of all his bank accounts. Trust me, I checked.”

  She eyed the strange man and felt a small twinge of attraction toward him. He was easily old enough to be her father, but he seemed attractive, endearing, and trustworthy somehow. Maybe it was the alcohol or her loneliness… she shook it off and looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

  “So go open another one. You have his social security number and date of birth, right?”

  She downed the rest of her wine. “Yes, and all of his bank account numbers and PIN numbers. Guess he thought taking me off was good enough but I can still call and check the balance
s on his accounts.”

  “Okay, this is how this is going to work. On Monday, you’re going to go online and open a small line of credit, say one-thousand dollars, under his name, using his social security number. That small of an amount is not going to raise any red flags or cause them to need to do any credit checks or anything. After that, you’re going to go online and transfer all the money from his other accounts into that one. Then you will withdrawal it all and put it in your name.”

  She laughed. “That will never work. I’ll go to prison for Embezzlement. I watch Law & Order, you know.”

  “Not if you leave the country. With that amount of money, you can afford new passports and identification. Stay gone a few years, come back, move to California and re-invent yourself as someone else.”

  “I… I don’t think I could do that, Mr. O’Brien. Noah’s a bastard, but I don’t want to bankrupt him. He has worked hard, I will give him that.”

  “We can leave him with a few thousand,” Sean grinned. “Enough to live on for a few months. Trust me, his salary is one thing, but he has so many investments, he will earn it back in no time.”

  “Okay, let’s say for argument’s sake that I do this, and it works. What do you get out of it?”

  “That’s easy. Just give me a third of what you get and we’ll call it even.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t think so.”

  He laughed again and signaled John for another drink. “We’ll work something out. Now go home and get some rest and I’ll wait for your call on Monday. Slan… Goodbye, Ashley.”

  She slid off the barstool and adjusted her purse over her shoulder and headed for the front door. Opening it, a blast of icy wind blew into her face and she hailed a cab with a satisfied grin on her face.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Ashley’s night in her small apartment was nothing but a restless sleep. Erotic dreams of lust and desire with the Irishman filled her dreams. She woke several times, confused but strangely not disappointed or disgusted.

  “What was in that wine?” she grumbled to herself as she got up the next morning.

  If she only knew.

  The weekend passed relatively uneventfully, and on Monday, she was nervous all through the workday. As she left for the day, she checked her purse to ensure she had the signed document to bring to the bank. She walked out the front doors of the daycare and got in her car, biting on her thumbnail all the way to the downtown bank.

  She had gone online the day before, requesting the line of credit. He was almost immediately approved, and an email she received stated they would need the form signed and brought into the bank to complete the transaction.

  She walked in the massive bank, looking at the marble floors and brass lined counters and door handles.

  “Hello, may I help you?” asked a teller.

  “Um, yes, I need to turn in this signed form for a line of credit,” she said, holding out the paper.

  The teller pointed to a desk in the corner with a smile. “You’ll need to speak to the bank manager.”

  “Thank you,” Ashley replied.

  She made her way over to a large mahogany desk with a name placard that read Mark Shepherd. A young, nice-looking man sat behind the desk, peering at a computer screen. He looked up and smiled. “May I help you?”

  She put on her most disarming smile and held out the paper. “Yes, I need to turn this in for my husband.”

  He smiled at her and turned red, wondering if she’d noticed him gawking at her beauty. He also wondered if she’d noticed his face fall at the mention of the word ‘husband.’ He eventually looked down at the paper. “Ah, a line of credit. Looks like he’s already been approved. I’ll file this with the bank and he should have his line of credit within two business days, Mrs. Graham.”

  She exhaled a silent sigh of relief. “Thank you… ah, Mr. Shepherd. You’ve been most helpful.” She smiled demurely at him again.

  Why was she suddenly finding every man she laid eyes on attractive? Must be a thing newly divorced people do, she thought to herself.

  She turned to leave.

  “Wait,” he said.

  She turned around. “Yes?”

  “Where’s Mr. Graham?”

  She cleared her throat. God, I’m such a terrible liar, he’s going to see right through me, she thought. “He’s sick today, he asked I drop that by.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, we’ll call if there are any problems.”

  “Thanks again.”

  After Ashley left the bank, Mark Shepherd did nothing else the rest of the day but do online checks of Noah and Ashley Graham. When he checked Noah’s bank accounts, he was not only shocked, but confused. Why would someone like him need a thousand-dollar line of credit? He probably had that much cash in the glove box of his car in case he ran out of tissues. Something was fishy, and he was gonna get to the bottom of it.

  Two days later, Ashley checked the account and saw the thousand dollars there. She then proceeded to log into two bank accounts she knew he used for his stock profits and two money market accounts and transferred small amounts into the line of credit account. She knew these accounts were volatile and fluctuated with the market.

  She did this weekly for about a month, until she had about a hundred thousand dollars. She never once touched his regular bank account that he used for his paycheck and debit card, because she knew he checked that often.

  Mark Shepherd at the bank was watching these accounts closely. One day he decided to check Facebook to see if Ashley or Noah were on there. To his delight, he could see part of Ashley’s personal information, including her marital status, which read “Separated.” He also found Noah’s, whose status read “Divorced.” In his user picture, he had a photo of himself with a very pretty brunette who most definitely was not his wife. He clicked on the picture and saw the woman tagged in the photo was named Caroline Deluna. He clicked on her profile and saw many more photos of she and Noah together – waterskiing, snow skiing, dancing, dining at restaurants…you name it.

  Mark smiled to himself and picked up the phone, dialing the phone number that was listed on the application. He knew it would be Ashley’s, not Noah’s. She answered on the first ring.

  “Hello, Mrs. Graham. This is Mark Shepherd at the bank. Could you come down to the bank? We need one more signature.”

  She swallowed hard as her stomach did a flip-flop. “Uh sure, but Noah’s… out of town for a couple of weeks. Had to go to Thailand,” she lied quickly.

  Mark smiled again. “Oh, it’s quite all right. You can sign for him.”

  She relaxed slightly and told him she’d be in tomorrow.

  The next day after work, she stopped at the gas station across the street from the bank to change into a short skirt and a low-cut blouse before visiting Mr. Shepherd at the bank. She was hoping to distract him with her own… assets.

  She wobbled in on high heels she rarely wore and went straight to his desk.

  This time, his mouth did drop to the floor.

  That was definitely the reaction she was looking to achieve. She smiled at him. It didn’t hurt that he was extremely handsome, too.

  “Hi, Mrs. Graham, please have a seat,” he says as calmly as he can.

  “Ashley, please.”

  He folded his hands over the desk and said, “I’m gonna cut to the chase here, Ashley. I know you and Mr. Graham are divorced, so my question is, what are you doing with over a hundred grand in the account that started out as owing a thousand dollars?”

  She sucked in a breath as her face flamed. A tear leaked out of her eye. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

  He reached over and put a hand on hers. “It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything. But look, this is extortion and embezzlement, you could go to federal prison for doing this.”

  She had her head down. “I know. But he left me nothing in the divorce. I can barely make ends meet.” She looked with teary eyes and looked into his.

  Mark looked around an
d licked his lips. “Let me make you a deal. You give me some of it, and I’ll get it all to you in cash, no questions asked, and you can move on with your life.”

  She looked up and brushed her tears away. “Really? That’s it, you won’t call the cops?”

  He laughed. “No way. I’ve got bills to pay, too. Is this all you were planning on… amassing in this account?”

  “Uh, no. I was gonna do this for another month, then cash out.” She couldn’t believe she was telling him this. What was wrong with her?

  “Okay. You do that. Meet me back here one month from today and we’ll get it completed.”

  She nodded and looked into his beautiful blue eyes.

  “You are much prettier when you smile, you know,” he says.

  She blushed. “Thank you. Well, you have my number, right?”

  He smirked. “Yes, I do.”

  The next month went by as the last had. Occasionally, she’d get a flirty text message from Mark. She’d respond back just as flirtatious, sometimes even including a photo. She eventually got braver and started putting more money in each week. On the last day, she went in and transferred almost all of the funds into her little account, leaving about a thousand in each account. By the end of the two months, she had close to nine-hundred thousand in that little account. Today was the day to cash out. She was excited and nervous. She had put notice on her apartment, and her job, and was packed and ready to move to Italy for a while until she decided where she wanted to live.

  She walked into the bank and smiled when she saw Mark. “Hi.”

  “Hello,” he said. “First, sign this to close the account, then let’s go somewhere private where I can get you your money.”

  She looked at the document. It looked legitimate so she signed it in Noah’s name and said, “Now what?”

  “Now, go back to your apartment and I’ll meet you there in an hour.”

  “Okay… ?”

  He looked her straight in the eye. “Trust me.”