Like a Woman Scorned

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Like a Woman Scorned Page 8

by Hart, Randi


  A dark-haired girl who looked to be in her early thirties sat at the reception desk behind a partial wall. Carley asked if she was in the office of Rick Waterman, and then politely inquired of the young woman as to whether there were any job openings. The receptionist was cordial and even introduced herself. Her name was Anna, Rick’s secretary.

  “What type of position are you looking for?” Anna asked.

  “I’m an experienced paralegal, but right now I’ll take clerical work, or anything I can get with a civil firm. I just moved here from Springfield.” Carley handed Anna a resume with a phony work history and references she put together by simply looking up civil law firms in Springfield on the internet. All anyone had to do was attempt to verify any of it, and she would be caught stone cold.

  “Oh, my sister lives there,” Anna said as her face visibly brightened. “And look, you worked for Clancy and Collins. We’ve handled some due diligence work for them in the past.”

  The office door behind Carley opened and Rick walked in, moving fast. He interrupted their conversation and promptly informed Anna that he had leave for New York within the hour. Anna stood up. Rick glanced at Carley as he passed by, and then abruptly slowed his pace—causing Carley to have a brief moment of panic. Rick then came around behind the reception window and started looking through his messages and fiddling with some files.

  “Rick, this is Carley Morrison,” Anna said, “a paralegal from Springfield who recently moved here and is looking for work. She’s done time at Clancy and Collins.”

  Rick stopped what he was doing at the mention of that firm and glanced over Anna’s shoulder at the resume she was holding. Then he looked up at Carley. For just a second, his eyebrows narrowed, causing Carley’s legs to quiver. But then he looked back at the desktop behind Anna and spoke while he dug through a file folder.

  “Clancy and Collins, huh?” he said. “I’m sure you’d fit in fine around here. We happen to have some projects coming up in the next few weeks which we’ll need additional help with. I’d just as soon hire you than a temp, if you are still looking for work then. Can’t promise it will work into a permanent position, though. Leave your resume and I’ll have Anna here give you call before going to the temp agency. Anna, get me on the 5:30 to JFK.” Rick took a file with him and vanished into the back offices.

  Carley’s knees stopped shaking. It was over, just like that. He didn’t recognize her. What’s more, Carley didn’t feel any emotion over the matter other than fright. Perhaps that man no longer held any power over her. Carley could do what she came for without being distracted by romantic feelings—if she got the chance.

  “I hope you can wait a few weeks,” Anna said. “I think it would be fun working with you. We can talk about Springfield.” Anna was so nice that Carley felt almost natural hanging around and chatting with her while she made Rick’s travel arrangements. Carley then asked her if she knew a good place to have lunch in the neighborhood.

  “Well, I like the cobb salad at the pub around the corner. I was just about to go there now if you care to join me.”

  Jackpot. They were halfway out the door together when Anna remembered she had to call Rick’s wife. She stopped Carley and asked her to hold on a minute. It was clear from her mannerisms that Anna didn’t like having to do that.

  Lunch was fun. The two of them chatted about life in Boston over cobb salads and iced tea. Carley felt like they really hit it off. Anna was the talkative type—too talkative for her own good, actually. It was obvious she didn’t have any real friends in the office because she revealed way too much information to someone she had just met. When the check came, Carley was faster and picked up the tab. Anna insisted they meet for lunch again in a few days so she could return the favor. Things couldn’t be developing any better if Carley had designed them. By befriending Rick’s secretary, she was making huge inroads to his office.

  They met for lunch the following week, and then for drinks at happy hour in the same pub after work that day. A few days later, lunch again, and drinks after work again. Within two weeks of Carley walking into Rick’s office, she and Anna were becoming good friends and were on each other’s cell phone speed dials. There was still no word on a job opening, though.

  Anna expressed concern over Carley’s unproductive job search efforts. Carley, of course, wasn’t really looking and was only concerned about furthering her new friendship with Anna—who, it turned out, was much more than a simple secretary. She managed all of Rick’s administrative affairs, including the firm’s client trust account. That particular bit of intelligence caused a light bulb to go off over Carley’s head. If she really wanted to get at Rick, she needed to take over some of Anna’s duties, preferably her entire job position. The more Carley got to know Anna, the more she realized that wasn’t such a crazy notion.

  Anna complained about financial issues when they were having drinks sometimes, and mentioned her desire to find a better paying job more than once. Carley had lots of money at her disposal, but of course didn’t let Anna know that in any way other than insisting on picking up more than her fair share of the tabs. These two facts seemed destined to come together to solve each of their problems. But how to make it happen? Carley couldn’t suddenly break out a giant wad of cash and offer to “buy” Anna’s job—could she?

  The following week during lunch, Anna once again asked how Carley’s job hunt was going.

  “To be honest,” Carley replied, “I haven’t been trying all that hard lately. I’ve been kind of waiting on your firm, as I think that’s where I’d like to work. I’m not hurting for money or anything. Actually, I’m kind of well-off financially and really just like working in the legal profession and need something to do.”

  “Wow,” Anna said. “Here I am finally getting to know you. Don’t need to work but just want to? Must be nice.”

  “Yes it is, truth be told, but it would be even nicer if we could work together. Any word on that yet?”

  Anna shook her head as she took a sip of iced tea. “No, sorry. I was going to apologize for my boss about that, but now I don’t feel so bad. I should just sell you my job, if you want to work there so badly. I really need to find something higher-paying.” Anna laughed but then stopped laughing when she noticed Carley just staring back at her, eyebrows raised.

  “I was joking, Carley.”

  “Were you?”

  “Yes—I’m pretty sure.”

  “You certain?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. This is crazy talk.”

  “What would it take?”

  “You can’t be serious, Carley.”

  “Humor me. What would it take? Seriously?”

  “Listen babe, if you want my job that bad, I’ve got half a mind to let you have it. Seriously.”

  “How about $10,000 cash?”

  Anna choked on some bacon pieces in her salad. When she finally calmed down, Carley hadn’t changed expressions.

  “Okay,” Anna said. “Now you’re scaring me.”

  “It’s not a problem, Anna. I have the money. Last year I received an inheritance when my grandmother died. But don’t freak out. Just think about it. You’d have to tell your boss you are taking another job somewhere, but casually mention that I am interested in stepping in. He sees me all the time when I come pick you up for lunch. He couldn’t know about our little side-deal, of course. And me landing your job is part of that deal. But don’t stress over it now. Just think about it. Hey, did you see the story on the news about the ferry boat running aground because the captain was drunk?”

  They chatted about other subjects for the rest of the Anna’s lunch hour that day, but apparently Anna did think about the proposal—because three days later she called Carley at home after work.

  “If you’re serious, Carley, I can make it happen. And I’m willing. I interviewed for another job yesterday at a 30% pay increase, and they offered me the position today.”

  Carley jumped off the couch at hearing the news. “Oh An
na, how wonderful! I’m so happy for you!”

  The following Monday, Anna gave her two weeks’ notice. Before the end of the month, she was $10,000 richer and Carley had her dream job.

  It was actually a hectic job, and didn’t pay all that well. No wonder Anna wanted out. Carley, of course, didn’t care. She was now positioned right where she wanted to be. During the first few weeks, she had several face-to-face meetings with Rick, where she learned how to handle the firm’s client trust account and became familiar with his frequent travel habits. Carley was careful about using her new high-pitched voice with the Boston accent, and always wore full-length skirts and business suits for fear of Rick recognizing her legs. She never displayed any cleavage, either. He gave her curious looks sometimes, but Carley always played it cool and Rick gradually accepted her at face value. Most of her hands-on training came from one of the several other staff members—especially Marla, his senior paralegal.

  Rick was a typical edgy, stressed-out litigator around the office. Although he tried to appear calm and in control, he wasn’t. Carley was used to the type. He was always scrambling at the last minute, relied on his staff to know which end was up about a case, and when it was over he boasted and bragged about his organizational skills. His staff never seemed to share in the glory of their successes.

  It was an interesting, ironic twist that Anna was the one coming to the office to pick up Carley for lunch at the pub on occasion now, but those occasions became less and less frequent as the weeks and months went by. So did their phone calls and cocktail hours together. Anna’s new job was on the other side of the city, and she was making new friends at her new office. It didn’t take too long before Carley and Anna fell out of contact altogether. Things weren’t the same after the job switcheroo anyway. A new tension hung between the two of them. Carley knew it was because of the money, but she wasn’t sure whether it was because she paid Anna too little or too much. In any case, it was better if Anna was out of the picture entirely.

  Rick gave Carley an insignificant raise after three months. The thought of it made Carley laugh. If he only realized how much time the two of them had spent in bed together, how much passion they had abandoned themselves in. It was worth a heck of a lot more than what he was now paying her by any scale. Not to mention her qualifications. Truth be known, she could do Marla’s job much better than Marla was doing it. But then, Marla was likely underpaid as well.

  Carley settled into the daily routine of working at a civil law practice and time began to go by. She didn’t learn much about what was happening in Rick’s home life. He never talked about his family, and he never asked anything about Carley’s life outside the office. Rick’s wife never phoned on the office line, nor did his children. Only once did his mother phone the office on the main line. Carley was taken aback by that at first, but kept her distance in a rather short conversation. Carley never met—or even talked to—Rick’s wife. He never once asked Carley to call her for him regarding his travel schedule, as he used to have Anna do.

  The mail told Carley that Rick was behind in some of his payments. She confronted him about it and volunteered to straighten out the firm’s finances. Rick appreciated it. For a moment he seemed more human, and even invited her to lunch. Carley politely declined, rubbed her stomach and said she didn’t feel good that day. He laughed and said it might be a good idea if he stopped eating lunch permanently, as he often had stomach aches in the afternoon. Nevertheless, within several days’ time Carley found herself a check signer who was responsible for a great deal of the firm’s financial affairs—but with no further pay increase.

  Carley shortly got all his accounts in order and Rick thanked her by buying her a bouquet of flowers. When he left the office for the weekend, Carley threw the flowers in the trash bin in the alley behind the building.

  Flowers. She remembered the flowers he brought Alison several times during that fateful December a year and a half ago. It stirred up emotions, the kind Carley wanted nothing to do with. She walked three blocks in a light rain afterwards, raindrops mixing with her inexplicable tears. The last thing she wanted from Rick was flowers.

  Carley couldn’t sleep that night. Something was bothering her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. The rest of the office staff had begun to get friendlier with her, and even invited her several to after-work get-togethers. Carley always had an excuse for not going. She didn’t want things to move in that direction with any of her coworkers. No attachments. No one to say goodbye to. She went straight home from work every evening and kept to herself nights and weekends. She even gave up clothes shopping. Outside of getting groceries, she was rarely seen out and about in Boston anymore.

  One evening Carley realized what was upsetting her so much lately. She had come to absolutely despise Rick, and just didn’t want to be around him any longer. The more she got used to him, the more she hated herself for it. His habits made her nuts. He was sloppy about so many things and not at all the kind of person she first figured him for. Not slothful when it came to business, to be certain, but unforgivably careless over the important details which disinterested him.

  Quite by accident one day, she learned that Rick and his wife were already separated. Carley had suspected as much, seeing as she never had the opportunity to even speak to her. Rick’s mother-in-law phoned the office and left a message that pretty much revealed his current personal situation. Rick said nothing to Carley about it when he read the message she left for him.

  Carley knew the time had come to accelerate her plans. It was time to get out of that office and out of Rick’s life for good. She could do it now. She could go back to her old life feeling vindicated and satisfied, as long as she left Rick a little stinger in doing so—something to even the score.

  That weekend, Carley devised a plan for bringing things to a close. She went over it again and again in her mind. Four months. That’s all she needed. Four months from now, she would bring it all to fruition. The timing was undeniable. In four months it would be one year since she became a blonde named Carley and moved to Boston.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  It was Valentine’s Day when Carley first began transferring money from the client trust account to the firm’s general account. It seemed an appropriate day to begin. The other female staff members were getting flowers delivered and giggling over them. Carley received a small bouquet as well. It was from herself, with a card that simply read from Derek. Because she wasn’t too friendly with anyone in the office, she didn’t have to make up detailed stories other than it being from “a man she just started dating.”

  Carley didn’t enter the bank transfers in the check register. She made a note to herself of the amount of money transferred and the names of the clients who would be affected. Rick never looked at the checkbooks or logged into the bank accounts online. He left all the bookkeeping to Carley, just as he had done with Anna. Big mistake. Lawyers are held legally responsible for the actions of their staff when it comes to the misappropriation of funds.

  The American Bar Association's Model Rule 1.15 protects client funds, and along with the State Bar forbids client funds being mixed with an attorney’s for any reason. A client wouldn’t know about any misappropriation of funds unless his refund check bounced after the completion of his case. Rick was nearing the end on two cases which would have significant overages in the trust account. As required by state law, letters were sent to these clients informing them of this situation. But Carley was making sure the client trust fund account would be nearly empty when those refund checks were mailed.

  That was just the beginning. Several of Rick’s clients owned large boats in the harbor. Rick occasionally ate lunch at the Boston Harbor Yacht Club with them. There was a yacht broker right next door. On the same early March day that she mailed the two bad refund checks from the client trust account, Carley also went to the yacht broker and placed a down payment on a 60-foot motor yacht. She claimed to be doing so for her boss, Rick Waterma
n. Not surprisingly, the salesman knew who he was and had even showed him a boat or two in the past. Perfect. Carley made sure the down payment amount matched that of the exact amount of missing money from the client trust fund account.

  Three days later, Carley knew it was time to go. It would only be another day or so before those checks to the clients came back bounced. She couldn’t risk still being in the office when an angry client with a returned check stormed in. Plus, she knew she couldn’t keep the yacht salesman from getting through to Rick by telephone much longer, as she had told him that Rick was out of town for only a few days when she made the deposit.

  Fortunately, Carley was the only one who stayed late that evening.

  Carley looked around the room, checking and double checking, one wall at a time, each piece of furniture, making sure her fingerprints were nowhere and everything was wiped clean. She took her time, cleaning the table tops and shelves on every book case, going over them twice until she felt she had left no trace.

  Next she opened drawers and cabinets, making sure nothing had been placed in any of them. A chill ran down the back of her neck. All she worried about at this point was making a mistake. Don’t make a mistake. Don’t make a mistake. She’d planned for too long to let that happen now.

  The computer keyboard at her desk had been replaced with exactly the same model. She had never touched Rick’s keyboard—or anything else in his office, for that matter. Carley had been extremely careful of those sorts of details. No law books had been opened by her. Any legal research he needed had been done on her computer. And her computer led to nowhere; nothing personal ever searched for by her, no trails or links to her life outside of that office.

  Any hairs likely to be found would be blonde, but she wouldn’t be blonde for much longer. Besides, the cleaning crew was the best she had ever seen, so it was unlikely that anything would linger over the next few weeks.

 

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