Built for Pleasure

by Sarah J. Brooks

  My eyes must have lit up at the idea. "My paycheck is going to be zero each week," I pointed out and she laughed as she nodded and tallied up my purchases. When I finally left the store, I had so many bags I needed to borrow a luggage cart. I found my car and began unloading all my purchases into the trunk and then returned the card before driving back toward the apartment that Bitsy and I shared with my daughter.

  I could hardly wait to get home and tell Bitsy my good news. I walked through the door to find her on the sofa, sound asleep. Carrie was in her crib. "Mama missed you sweetie," I told her as I picked her up and held her at my shoulder. "Did Bitsy go to sleep on you?"

  I carried her into the next room and put her in her carrier, so I could watch her while I made dinner. She knew what I was doing and started fussing. I wondered how long it had been since Betsy fed her. I was so excited that I purposefully slammed the silverware drawer. It worked.

  Bitsy came around the kitchen doorway, poking her head in as her eyes blinked heavily with sleep. "When did you get home?"

  "Just a few minutes ago. Do you remember what time you fed Carrie?"

  "It hasn't been that long, maybe an hour.”

  I decided not to interrogate her any further. It was obvious she’d been asleep for quite a while, but Carrie was quite safe in her crib. Bitsy and I had an unusual, but very practical roommate arrangement. She worked nights as a 911 operator and now I would work days. We shared the childcare, the utilities, the food and part of the rent. I gave her sort of a discount based on babysitting and it worked well for both of us. I had some money saved and then there were my graduation gifts back from Brookfield. Mom and Dad had thrown in a nice sum in lieu of sending me to college. I think they felt sorry for me that I’d gotten pregnant. In a small town like Brookfield, that sort of thing was frowned upon even though this was no longer the 60s. Mom and Dad helped me keep things very quiet and as soon as Carrie was born, I started modeling school. I was proof that you never had to give up your dreams, no matter how impossible they might seem. I’d never heard a word from Paul and looking back, I was glad. It was hard enough to get where I wanted to go on my own with a small child. If he’d come back and wanted into our lives, there was no way I would be where I was at that moment.

  “Sit down, you won’t believe what happened today.”

  Bitsy looked over at the clock. “I’ve only got a half hour before I have to leave for work,” she pointed out.

  I nodded. “I’m just making us burgers and they’ll be ready in a few minutes. But listen, that’s not the news.”

  “What’s the news?”

  “I got a job.” I waited for her sleepy head to catch up with what I was saying.

  “No! You didn’t! Are you talking about Blaze? They hired you? That’s unbelievable, I’m so excited for you!” She leapt out of her chair and threw her arms around me from the back. As shy as she was, Bitsy had a soft place in her heart for Carrie and me. We were family. She looked after me like my own mother would.

  “Absolutely, I start on Monday. And that’s not the best part. They let me have a shopping spree at sixty percent off and you should see the things I bought. Of course, I’ll have to pay for them gradually, out of my check, but who cares? It’s a wardrobe and that was one of my biggest worries.”

  “Oh, there’s no way I can look at it all before I have to leave. Promise me you’ll leave it all in bags just as it is and when I get home, you can put on your own fashion show for me?”

  “Okay, okay, you sure know how to torture a girl.”

  “Oh, don’t start feeling sorry for yourself. You can use this time to get some sleep. Carrie didn’t have a very long nap and I’m sure she’ll ready for bed as soon as you give her dinner.”

  “Oh? I thought you just fed her a few minutes ago?” I rolled my eyes and nodded as I turned back to the skillet.

  “Oh. Well, that was when I was still half asleep. No, she needs to eat again before she goes to bed. Let me run into the bedroom and throw on my clothes for tonight. I’ll be back in a minute and eat. I can’t wait to hear about it when I come home.”

  I could hear the excitement in her voice. Bitsy tended to live vicariously through me. I suspicioned that she had not been very popular in school and while that made no difference to me, she followed my every movement like a parent. If I began to wear my hair a certain way, eventually she did the same. She almost looked after Carrie almost as much as I did, which was only another advantage to rooming with her, of course.

  We ate our burgers quickly and as Bitsy grabbed her sack lunch and her purse, she headed toward the door and said to me over her shoulder, “Oh, by the way, someone delivered that envelope for you. I had to sign for it.” She pointed to the small table by the door. “See you later.”

  I looked at the envelope from where I sat. My stomach instantly turned. I lived in constant fear that Paul would show up and try to come after me. He might have a change of heart and have actually grown up while he was away and decided that he wanted to see Carrie. I couldn’t let that happen. I dreaded the day that I had to explain to her where her daddy was. I’d come up with all sorts of scenarios in my mind, but I had always been one to go for the truth, no matter how lousy that would make her feel. It wasn’t about her, I would explain. It was about me, but mostly, it was about Paul.

  Sighing, I got up and retrieved the envelope, slitting it open with a kitchen knife. It looked very official and I saw that it was issued from the court system. My heart plummeted until I began reading and realized it had nothing to do with Carrie, Paul, or anyone, but me. It was a summons for jury duty. I groaned. How could I take off work for jury duty when I hadn’t even started yet? I read the letter through and saw that I was supposed to report in forty-eight hours. I would just have to go down to the courthouse and tell them they’d have to excuse me. I had an infant and I needed that job badly. They just would have to let me out of it.

  Chapter 3

  Coulter

  Wearing a tailored charcoal colored suit, immaculate cuffs and collar that accentuated my tan, I sat completely relaxed, if not even somewhat defiant in my seat at the defendant’s table. It was intentional. I wanted everyone to see that I wasn’t the least concerned with the proceedings. I even saw a couple of people sketching me—likely from some of the media who weren’t exactly my fans. Mason sat quietly next to me, a laptop in a folder with papers before him.

  “How long do you think this will take?” I asked.

  “It shouldn’t be long,” Mason reassured me. “Now that the jury selection is complete, I will ask the judge to dismiss the case based on the evidence we’ve provided. Between you and me, he’d be a fool to do anything else. He’s up for reelection and crucifying us is not going to earn him any brownie points.”

  I nodded as a door to one side opened and people began filing in and filling the jury box. I couldn’t help but notice one very young woman who took her seat in the second row. It was obvious by the look on her face as she glared at me that she was not happy to be there. My money carried a great deal of weight around town and it wasn’t always possible to see who might have a problem with me. It was one of the downsides of development; turning some people’s lives upside down as you move toward the greater good. Some people took it personally. I saw it as a way of revitalizing Chicago’s downtown, in a way that would keep it alive, unlike its sister city, Detroit, just three hundred miles away. Keeping the downtown vital provided good paying jobs, safe places to live and entertainment. These brought in tax dollars that the city’s motors running. It was a win-win, but I had to admit that from time to time someone got run over in the process. I tried to anticipate those situations and send representatives to help relocate those who were adversely affected. Sometimes they just didn’t want to leave.

  I assumed she may be one of them. I was disappointed, because she was just my type. Wearing a deep red, expensive suit, she held her head high in a way that told me she was used to getting her way. I liked confidence i
n a woman. She crossed her legs and I held my breath in that sweet second that her knees were parted. I could even feel myself hardening, despite my precarious position. Her blonde hair was braided into a bun at the top of her elegant neck and from my distance, I could see her eyes were unusual; dark and mysterious. She leaned forward to pick up a pencil from the floor and I glimpsed a deep valley between full breasts in the V-neckline of her suit. Damn! She was not on my side and she was exactly the person I wanted in my corner—if not on my lap.

  The jury was seated, the judge entered, and Mason immediately made a motion to drop the charges. The judge called for the prosecutor and Mason to approach the bench and when they turned, I knew victory was mine. The prosecutor wore a sour look and glared in my direction. Mason had done his work well. He had evidence that the injured worker had been drinking heavily all morning on the day of the accident. He’d neglected to shut the gate that would have kept him safely inside. He also stumbled in his drunkenness, sliding through the opening onto the ground below. Subpoenaed records from the ER where he had been treated indicated his blood alcohol level was three times the legal limit. Indeed, the victim was guiltier than I could’ve ever been. He endangered the lives of every man on that site as he operated equipment and make judgment calls in a drunken state of mind. The judge knew it was a waste of time and saw his way out. The prosecuting attorney saw a potential negligence disaster for his client and without a job, there was no way the attorney would ever see a penny. The gavel came down and I stood to shake Mason’s hand and draw a deep breath of relief.

  I looked toward the jury and saw the blonde staring at me, a look that told me she was not only angry with me, but with the world in general. I wondered what her story was and made it a point to mutter a few words in my assistant’s ear. “You see that young lady over there in the dark red suit?” Peter nodded. “Find out who she is—what her story is. She’s shooting daggers at me like she’d like to roast me on a spit.”

  Peter didn’t hesitate but left immediately as the jury filed out of the courtroom. I was relieved the trial had been so brief—I had details to see to, the first of which was getting my permits reactivated and the men back to work. I’d kept them all on full salary pending the outcome of the trial, but I had time commitments on the contracts. It was time to get back to work. That said, I couldn’t get the blonde out of my mind.

  Chapter 4

  Gwen

  I unlocked the door and tossed my purse and shoes on the chair by the door. Bitsy looked up. “Hard day?”

  “You have no idea,” I answered, scooping up Carrie to cuddle while I unwound from my long Saturday at the store.

  “I made dinner,” Bitsy threw in, but from the smell of what was coming from the kitchen, I wasn’t sure I wanted any. She was not known for her cooking; a fact she readily admitted. “It’s a sort of skillet burrito but I used cornbread mix ‘cause we were out of tortillas.”

  “You know what? Why don’t you save that for your lunch tomorrow? I got paid today and I’m going to take us out on the town tonight to celebrate. I saw Mrs. Heathrow on the way up and she’d be glad to watch Carrie.”

  Bitsy dropped the book she was reading. “Really? You’re buying? Wow, I haven’t been out to have fun in a long, long time.”

  “Sure, I mean it. You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Doesn’t your job get to you? I mean, all those emergencies, that stress, the sad stories?”

  “Nope,” she answered, unfolding her bent leg from beneath the other as she stood up and stretched. “I figure for every sad ending; my job makes it possible for there to be a dozen happy ones.”

  I nodded. “A good way to look at it. Listen, I’m going to take Carrie down to Mrs. Heathrow. Why don’t you take your turn in the shower and then I’ll take mine—if you leave me any hot water, that is,” I grinned slyly. “Hey, why don’t you call some of our friends and tell them we’re going down to Pier 101. Maybe they’d like to meet us there?”

  “Wow, this sounds like a whole party.”

  “Why not? Oh, but Bitsy… I’m only treating you and myself. The others are on their own, okay?”

  “Hmmm… sounds like you’re not quite the Miss Moneybags you’d like me to think. You sure you can do this?”

  “I’m sure. Go on, get in the water. I’ll be back up in about ten minutes.” I packed a quick bag for Carrie, tossing in a couple of bottles, diapers, a change of jammies and her favorite teething ring and cuddly doll. Her dark eyes watched me, and I think she sensed I was going to leave because she started crying. I picked her up and loved on her, rocking her until she drifted off to sleep in my arms. Grabbing the bag for my shoulder, I crept downstairs and tapped on Mrs. Heathrow’s door. I handed her the bag and then Carrie. “I’ll bring down the porta-crib in a few minutes on my way out. She’ll be fine on her blanket on the floor until I get back. Thank you!” I added and took the stairs two at a time.

  I laid out some leather leggings and a new, low-cut top I’d picked up at work in a weak moment. Bitsy slept on the pull-out since we needed a room with a door for Carrie and that’s where I slept, too. “Use your vanity?” she asked lightly as she passed me and didn’t wait for an answer. It almost felt like a holiday.

  After my shower, I quickly dried my hair and pulled out my make-up. I used the sparkle eye shadow—something I couldn’t possibly wear to the more sedate atmosphere at the store. I grabbed the porta-crib and my handbag, and we were off!

  “I didn’t get a chance to ask. Were you able to find anyone who wanted to join us?” Bitsy and I were walking to Pier 101. We were only a few blocks away and walking so that we didn’t have to watch how much we drank. Our neighborhood was safe, if a bit ragged looking.

  “Oh, yes, Tim said he’s coming and bringing somebody. Marcy will bring the girls as soon as they’re out of work, which should be about anytime now. But you and I both know that the idea is to meet new people,” she said, winking at me.

  “My idea is to have a relaxing evening out, and I appreciate knowing a few people there. It’s always awkward to get up and dance when you don’t have a partner.”

  We arrived at Pier 101, a short line had already begun to form outside the double doors. There was a bouncer checking for the usual; guns, drugs, hidden flasks. When he came to me, he just smiled and patted me on the rump. I drew in my breath, but then consider he could’ve patted a whole lot more. I had to remember that he was protecting me as well as everyone else inside. “You have fun, now, you hear?” he said, winking at me. I hoped my night was going to be a little more interesting than being hit on by the bouncer.

  Inside, dance music practically made the walls shudder. Spectrums of light bounced off ceiling, floors and walls, making the atmosphere feel frenetic. Bitsy went to scope out a table while I went to get us a couple of drinks. They didn’t have a cover charge here, but you were expected to have a drink. Bitsy liked the colored, frothy drinks. Those had always sent me to the bathroom to lose it before the night was over, so I chose Scotch and water. I hated the taste, which prompted me to sip slowly. That way I stayed sober enough to know what I was doing but just tipsy enough to enjoy doing it.

  I found Bitsy at a large table, surrounded by the friends she promised were coming. I had to admit it was much better being part of the group. “Oh, that looks just delicious,” Bitsy squealed, taking the pink drink in a margarita glass I held out to her. “You always know just what I like.” She spilled a little in her lap and her mouth formed a guilty O and then she broke out in giggles. That was normal Bitsy.

  I sat down, and we started a shouting conversation between us. Some of the people I didn’t know, but others I just hadn’t seen for quite a while. Of course, in my case, quite a while wasn’t all that long since I’d only recently moved to town. Talking felt like walking against the current, it just didn’t make any sense in this over-the-top atmosphere.

  I looked up to see Tim standing next to me. “You want to dance?” he asked, jerking his head in the direction
of the dance floor.

  I nodded and slid out of the booth, following him.

  There are a few things to be said for dance music. It is so unmemorable that when you go home at night, there is no tune running through your head as you try to go to sleep. It is also not romantic. You can dance with a perfect stranger and not feel obligated to touch them. And it is as equally hard to maintain a conversation while dancing as it is sitting in a booth. For all these reasons, I let myself go and let the bass feed my heartbeat.

  Tim just smiled at me from time to time and nodded, a friendly gesture that made me feel comfortable with him. I’d suspected he had an interest in me for a while, but he wasn’t my type and I certainly wasn’t able to party with his crowd. I was a mother and a career woman and those two had to take precedence. The music changed, and I started some new moves, stepping from my left to my right. I came back to forward and saw that Tim was standing to one side, shrugging. In front of me was someone entirely different. To my amazement, it was the man from the trial, the defendant. How the hell had he gotten there?

  Tim was gesturing with his hand, asking if it was okay that he wanted to sit down. I rolled my eyes and nodded for him to go ahead, not at all happy with the change in dance partner. Despite the overwhelming noise, I asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “I came by to dance and saw you out here on the floor. I recognized you as the girl in my jury and I was a little surprised. Quite a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”

  I hadn’t liked his attitude in the courtroom, so much so that I think I’d already found him guilty before the trial even began. It was probably better that it never came to a jury decision. There was an arrogance about him, as though he expected the world about him. It reminded me of someone, someone who had dealt a major blow to my future. I couldn’t be friendly. “I don’t remember inviting you.”