by Alex Marcoux
“Yes,” Sidney answered.
“The results are positive. They also show you’re at the end of the first trimester. They estimated 11-12 weeks.”
Sidney remained silent, then finally said, “Thank you for your help.”
“Wait,” Charlotte said before Sidney hung up. “What are you going to do?”
“I have a plan, but I still need to finish some loose ends. Please promise you’ll never tell anyone what you know.”
“I told you, you can trust me. Is there anything else I can help you with?” Charlotte asked.
Sidney hesitated. “I need a good lawyer, someone I can trust.”
“I know one, a buddy of mine from college. She has her own practice in the city; she doesn’t work for a large law firm. You can trust her. Her name is Jennifer Warren.”
A meeting was arranged the following day. Although Jennifer’s offices were small, they were tastefully furnished. The secretary led Sidney into Jennifer’s office. The attorney appeared to be around Charlotte’s age with long auburn hair skirting her shoulders. There was a handsome picture of her with a man and two young children displayed on her desk.
Jennifer rose from her chair and greeted Sidney warmly. “Mrs. Ambrose, I’m Jennifer Warren.” The lawyer shook Sidney’s hand firmly. “It’s nice to meet you. I understand you were referred by an old friend of mine, Charlotte Gray.”
Sidney was aware that the secretary had left and closed the door of her office. She confided in the attorney. “Jennifer, my name isn’t Ambrose. I’m Sidney Marcum, the wife of Michael Whitman.”
Sidney got right down to business. She informed Jennifer that she wanted a quick divorce. She told her about the verbal agreement she had with Michael, about getting divorced after the elections, then explained that he recently retracted his offer. Sidney admitted that it was an abusive marriage, and she feared for her own life. She described her unsuccessful attempts to leave him, only to be dragged back by Michael’s men.
Jennifer listened intently to Sidney’s story before she responded. “Sidney, I’d love to help you, but I’ve got to tell you, there’s nothing quick about a divorce, particularly when one of the parties disputes the issues.”
“I think I know a way to speed up the process, and make Michael more…inclined. But I need to work out some details. Would you prepare the documents, and when I’m ready, we can take him by surprise?”
“What assets do you want from your marriage?” Jennifer asked.
“Nothing, I just want my freedom.” Sidney considered further. “I bought a house in New Jersey before we got married. I haven’t been there in years. Michael hated the house, so he wouldn’t fight me on that … I want the house.” She thought further. “I need my car, and some cash, not a lot, maybe $5,000, just enough to get me settled. I have a good job, so I know I’ll be okay financially.”
“I wouldn’t be doing my job, if I didn’t tell you this-you could become a very rich woman walking away from this marriage.”
“I don’t want his money, I don’t want anything from him except my freedom, and what I had before I married him.”
Jennifer knew Sidney’s willingness to walk away from the Whitman assets could encourage a quick divorce. She wondered what other details needed to be worked out before Sidney was ready to move forward. “How soon do you think you could have your details ironed out?”
“How quickly could the papers be drawn up?” Sidney asked.
“A couple of days.”
“Perfect.”
Sidney was busy over the next couple of days. She packed a small bag of personal items and hid it in her car trunk. She confiscated the cash she found in the house and made two maximum cash ATM withdrawals. She had less than one thousand dollars, but decided it would be enough.
Her biggest hurdle was finding the key to Michael’s home desk. She had searched their home unsuccessfully. Jennifer was ready, and the two had agreed to meet at Whitman Industries the following morning at ten o’clock. It was the evening before their confrontation with Michael, and she was not ready.
The following morning Michael went off to work as usual. After he left, Sidney called Global Records and told David she had the flu. After hanging up, a wave of nausea hit her and she ran to the bathroom and threw up. Wonderful. Premonition? Nerves? Or first sign of morning sickness?
Sidney spent the rest of her available time searching for the desk key. Everything was ready, except she desperately needed the incriminating documents. It was 9:30 A.M. and she was running out of time. The hell with it. She went to the tool closet where she retrieved a screwdriver and hammer. Within five minutes, the drawer was open and she quickly found the “Connerly” file. She grabbed the file and ran out, leaving Michael’s office in disarray.
Sidney smiled at Jennifer as she greeted her in the Whitman Lobby.
“Are you ready?” Jennifer asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” The two entered the elevator. “I may ask you to leave the room at some point, is that a problem?” Sidney asked her lawyer.
Jennifer studied Sidney before she responded, “I don’t like that idea.” She hesitated further. “But I’ll let you use your discretion.”
“Mr. Whitman, your wife is here to see you.” Michael was surprised when his secretary paged him on his intercom.
“Tell her she’ll have to wait; I have a phone conference scheduled in a couple minutes.”
Walking past his secretary, Sidney stormed into his office. “I think your telephone conference can wait, this can’t.” His secretary followed the two women into his office. Michael nodded at his secretary, who took the sign to leave.
“Michael, this is Jennifer Warren, my attorney.”
“Mr. Whitman, I’ve been retained by your wife to represent her in divorce proceedings.”
Michael quickly jumped in. “Well, I wouldn’t waste any more of your time. I’ll never divorce Sidney.”
“Sidney has proven that her marriage is over. She has explained details that reinforce her belief. Just so you understand, she doesn’t need your consent. There is enough evidence to start divorce proceedings.”
“Then do it, but I guarantee you the biggest battle of your career, counselor.” Michael appeared agitated. “This is very unorthodox, visiting my office without an appointment, without my attorney present.”
“On the contrary, I believe this visit is warranted. If you fight this battle, Mr. Whitman, I guarantee you the press will destroy whatever political aspirations you have. Oppose this and Sidney will become a very rich woman, at your expense.
“Mr. Whitman, both of you can be winners. Against my advice, Sidney is willing to forfeit her interest in your assets. She wants her house in New Jersey, her car, and $100,000. She is also willing to release a press statement suggesting the end of the marriage was caused by irreconcilable differences. Fight this and I’m sure the truth about your relationship will surface.”
Michael appeared to be considering the attorney’s words. “I’ll take this under advisement with my attorney, Daniel Schwartz. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. He’ll be in touch. Don’t ever come to my office uninvited again.” He opened the door, gesturing to the women to leave.
Sidney’s pulse was beating fast. The thought of leaving without an agreement scared her to death. “Jennifer, I’ll be out in a minute.”
“No, I think you ought to leave also. I’ll see you at home,” Michael objected.
Sidney was persistent. She took the doorknob out of Michael’s hand, and closed the door. “Michael, I’m going to make this short and sweet. You have something I want, my freedom, and I have something you want.”
“Really. What’s that?” He laughed.
“The Connerly file.”
Michael’s smile disappeared. “You’re bluffing.”
“If you want a fight, Michael, I’ll give you the fight of your life. I’ll take half of your assets; I’ll ruin your political career; and I’ll watch the SEC put you in jail. But
it doesn’t have to be that way.”
“Where’s the file?” he demanded.
“It’s in a lockbox, safe. Sign the divorce papers now, and the file will be returned when the state recognizes the divorce.”
“That could take months.”
“You have connections, use them.” Sidney added, “By the way, should anything happen to me, I’ve left specific instructions for the file to be forwarded to the SEC.”
“How do I know you haven’t made copies?”
“You don’t.” Sidney opened the door, and gestured for Jennifer to come back in. “Jennifer, I believe Michael wants to sign the papers now.”
The attorney pulled out a stack of papers and placed them on Michael’s desk. She noticed that Michael’s color had drained from his face.
Sidney came to the desk. “Where do we sign them?”
“I should have my attorney review them,” Michael stated.
“This is not negotiable, Michael,” Sidney reminded him.
Jennifer asked Michael’s secretary to witness the signatures, then the couple signed the documents. As Jennifer packed her attaché case, Michael turned to Sidney. “The originals will be returned, right? How do I know I can trust you?”
“You don’t Michael. I lived with you for six years.” She smiled. “I’ve learned from the best.”
As the women left the Whitman headquarters, Sidney paused outside the building. I’m free. To celebrate their victory, the two decided to have lunch. Over a glass of wine Jennifer stated, “Whatever you said to him was very effective.” For the first time in years, Sidney genuinely smiled.
At the end of the lunch, Sidney placed an envelope in Jennifer’s hand. “I need you to keep this in a safe place. Please don’t open it, unless something happens to me. If something does happen…well, I’ve left instructions.”
“A will?” the lawyer asked.
“Not really, more like insurance.”
The following morning David Jacobs walked into Sidney’s office and shut her office door.
“What’s up, David?”
“Sidney, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I just got orders to fire you.”
“Why?” Sidney was surprised.
“Damn if I know, it happened the same way I got instructions to hire you,” David explained.
“What?”
“Before you were hired, instructions came from upstairs to hire you, and not to ask questions. I was just told to fire you and not to ask why.”
“You mean I wasn’t hired because I was the best candidate for the job?” Sidney was shocked.
“No offense Sidney, you weren’t the most qualified for the position. But you’ve certainly proven over and over that you are the best person for the job. I just thought you asked your husband to put in a good word for you with Silverman, and you got the job.”
“Who the hell is Silverman?” Sidney asked.
David was surprised at Sidney’s reaction. “He’s the Senior Vice President of WABS, the network that owns us. Your husband and Silverman have been friends for years. You didn’t know?”
Sidney mumbled to herself, “I didn’t get this job on my own merit. Touché, Michael.”
Two men from security arrived to escort her out. She cleaned out her desk, hugged David and whispered in his ear, “Divorce can be a bitch.”
Then David understood.
*
Raindrops on her face and a crash of thunder pulled Sidney’s attention back to the present. It took a few minutes before she realized she was sitting on Jones Beach, and had just been to Anastasia’s photo shoot. Now, the beach appeared deserted as the heavy rain beat against the warm sand.
Sidney realized she needed to focus her energy on the project at hand, Anastasia’s music. She was mad at herself that Anastasia’s situation had dragged her into her past. The hell with her reality. She’s put herself there, she thought to herself as she ran back to the parking lot. J can’t let her circumstances drag skeletons out of my closet. Another crash of thunder startled her as she approached the parking lot. Focus on the business; stay the hell out of her life.
Chapter 11
Sidney quickly learned she needed to play a more active role in Anastasia’s music selection. After listening to her most recent work, she became concerned about the quality of her music. The new material was far from commercially satisfying.
Anastasia’s music had changed after the success of her second album, Loners. Her third album displayed a slightly harder rock style than her previous work, and her most recent work was more extreme. Sidney also believed her newest work lacked the sincerity of the younger superstar.
“Is it just me, or is her music getting worse each session?” Sidney asked Natalie during a recording session one morning. The two women were perched in the recording booth. A window separated them from Anastasia and the musicians. The music was starting to get on Sidney’s nerves. She turned the recording room’s volume down, then took a couple aspirin from her purse and swallowed them.
“I think we should scrap all this stuff and start from scratch, what do you think?” Sidney asked.
“It’s not all bad,” Natalie responded. “It’s not great, it’s just not Anastasia. But you should feel good about all the things you’ve got going for her. Maybe you should focus on those things, and hope that the music falls in place. Oh, by the way, congratulations on renegotiating the Quench Soda deal.”
“Thanks, but we’re dead if we can’t get this new album off the ground. Let’s start looking for some new music for her. We can’t rely on it falling in place anymore.”
Natalie observed the group packing it in. “It sounds like they’re going to break for lunch.” She reached for the control panel and turned the sound off. “You going out for lunch?”
“No, I think I’m going to stay right here and nurse my headache.” Sidney lay down on a couch that occupied most of the small booth.
“Can I bring you back something?”
“Sure, surprise me.”
Sidney closed her eyes and tried to rest. She had just fallen asleep when the bass vibration from the synthesizer awakened her. That went by fast; I guess the band is back. She looked at her watch; it was only 12:15. They wouldn’t be back this early. Wondering who was in the room, Sidney turned the recording room volume up so she could listen in.
A woman was singing accompanied by background music from a synthesizer. Sidney remained on the couch listening to the singer for a few minutes, then turned up the volume more. The woman was singing a love song. Her music was original and enjoyable compared to what had started Sidney’s headache.
The artist followed with another song, a tribute to a friend or perhaps a lover who died of AIDS. Then, a spiritual song followed, envisioning that evil could be abolished if everyone worked together.
As Sidney listened to this woman, she realized what Anastasia’s music was missing. Spirit. This person is singing about things that really matter to her. Anastasia’s music lacks spirit, heart and sincerity. But most importantly-passion.
She listened to the music more intently. This woman is actually good. She started to get up to see who was singing when the telephone in the booth rang. She turned off the volume for the recording room then picked up the telephone. “Hello, this is Sidney.”
It was her secretary, Michelle. “Hi Sidney. I’m transferring Mr. Robbins, the producer of The Sammy Lyons Show.”
“Michelle, would you check the calendar and see who’s scheduled to use the recording room now?”
“Anastasia is scheduled.”
“They’ve broken for lunch and someone is in the recording room. Would you check the schedule and let me know who’s on for the lunch hour?” As Sidney said it, she realized how lazy she must have sounded to Michelle. All she had to do was get up and look, and the mystery would be over.
“Sure, I’ll check into it. I’m transferring Mr. Robbins now.”
“Hi Brian, how are you?” Sidney greeted the
caller. As usual, Sidney quickly got down to business. She mandated ground rules for Anastasia’s appearance on the talk show. Among the directives, the host was not to ask questions about Anastasia’s sexual orientation. She also insisted that the talk show host’s questions be submitted, in writing, two weeks before Anastasia’s appearance. Every precaution was taken to protect Anastasia’s business and her own. As Sidney finished her discussion with the producer, she realized the bass vibration had stopped.
“Brian, I have another call coming in, talk with you next month, got to go.”
Sidney leapt to look out the window, but nobody was there. “Shit,” she cursed and opened the exit door to the hallway. She heard a bell and instinctively ran toward the elevator. But the elevator was in an adjacent hallway, and she was unable to see it until she rounded the corner. She turned the L-shaped hallway just in time to see the elevator doors close. “Wait,” she called out, but it was too late and the vehicle descended.
When she returned to the booth, she called Michelle. “Hi, did you happen to find out who’s in the recording room?”
“Sidney, there’s no one on the schedule today, except Anastasia.”
“Thanks for checking.” Why couldn’t I have gotten off my ass to look?
When Natalie returned to the booth with Chinese takeout, Sidney filled in her friend on the mystery vocalist. “Do you have any idea who could have been using the room?” Sidney asked.
“No, the room is usually locked. I guess we must have forgotten. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again, Sid.”
“No, you don’t understand. This woman is very talented. Her music has…depth. I want to know who it is and if she’s represented.”
“I’ll do some checking around.”
It was about 1:30 P.M. when Anastasia and the musicians returned to the recording session and got down to business. Sidney’s headache resurfaced, making it difficult to concentrate on Anastasia’s work. Her concentration was further handicapped by thoughts of the mysterious vocalist.