“Take care of yourself, Noelie,” Raisa said as she watched her colleague vanish from sight.
Feeling a wave of sadness, she started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.
The fog had grown denser, transforming the streets into vague shadows abstractedly lit by streetlights and illuminated store fronts. Crawling below the speed limit, Raisa struggled to keep her attention on the road but found her eyes growing heavier and heavier. Vehicles loomed in and out of the fog like specters.
A car traveling in the opposite direction dazzled her with its high beams. Momentarily distracted, she continued through a red light at an intersection. Barely a few seconds later, the lights of a police cruiser flashed behind her, followed by a brief whoop of the siren.
Startled, Raisa’s fatigued mind struggled to process what was happening. The cruiser’s siren whooped again, spurring her to pull over. Confused and upset, she nicked the curb as she parked crookedly behind a van. Her head throbbing, she partially rolled down the window when a burly male officer approached and shone a flashlight in her face.
“License and registration, please,” he asked in a neutral voice, while his eyes carefully scrutinized her.
Raisa reached into her purse for her wallet and fumbled to retrieve her driver’s license. She panicked when she couldn’t find her registration and realized that it was in the glove compartment. As she opened it, the equivalent of a junk drawer spewed onto the floor, flustering her even more.
“I’m so sorry,” she said to the officer before anxiously sifting through the miscellaneous litter on the passenger seat and floor.
His impassive expression slightly shifted the moment she spoke but he said nothing as he carefully watched her.
Finally, Raisa spotted the registration certificate inside a plastic sleeve. She handed it and her license to the officer. He shone the flashlight over both documents, then briefly retreated to his cruiser to run them through the computer.
Raisa anxiously watched from the rearview mirror but the rain-streaked window obscured her view. Rain spat at her through the partially open window, but she ignored it. By now her heart was galloping in her chest and she desperately needed to go to the bathroom. Though she heard her phone buzz from her purse, she ignored it, too stressed to even think about talking to anyone.
The slam of a car door signaled the return of the officer. As he approached the window, he made no attempt to return her documents and shone the flashlight once more into her face.
“Have you been drinking tonight, Miss?”
Have you been drinking tonight, Miss?
The words became a mantra in Raisa’s head, haunting her like a demonic spirit following her no matter where she fled. Huddled in her bed, dreary morning light promising yet more dismal weather filtered through the half-opened blinds.
Exhausted, she sat up and sipped from a bottle of water on the bedside table. The digital clock displayed ten a.m, exactly one hour after it had displayed nine a.m. Raisa had not slept. After her DUI arrest and processing at the police station, she had been released in the early hours of the morning to return to her apartment by cab. Her car had been impounded, and she could already see the paltry reserve set aside in her bank account diminishing rapidly as the scenario of fines and fees played in her mind.
But it was the thought of an arrest and an actual police record that brought Raisa abruptly to tears. Everything she had worked for, her hopes for the future, now hung in the balance. Worse, she had yet to tell her family. Too terrified to even know how to break the news, she had fobbed off their calls with terse texts about working late on an important project.
Her gaze fell to the floor where her purse and its contents lay strewn on the floor. She had been so distraught after her ordeal at the police station that she had dashed sobbing from the cab and ran up the stairs to her condo rather than wait for the elevator. Fortunately the concierge in the lobby had not noticed her, his attention momentarily distracted by a phone call.
Raisa stared at paperwork she had signed but had barely glanced at. She knew it had been a mistake not to review them and now regretted not calling her family, but fear of their reaction, especially her father’s, compelled her silence. In her emotional flux she could have easily signed away important rights. The memory of her ordeal was still foggy as well, and now she understood the price for her foolish decision to drown her sorrows in a glass.
Wanting nothing more than to crawl back into bed, it took all of Raisa’s willpower to get out of bed. Hiding would not resolve the situation. She had made mistakes and the only way to deal with them was to face and resolve them. Reaching for her purse, she placed it on a nearby armchair and gathered the discarded items. She left the paperwork for last, then finally read through it.
Court date ... her eyes froze on a date only two days away. Feeling like she had been punched in the stomach, Raisa dropped heavily to the bed. For a moment she felt like fainting. She grabbed her water bottle and took a deep swig, then forced herself to read the rest of the documents.
Tears blurred her vision as she read the provisions of her court appearance. She had the option to hire an attorney to represent her, but with what money? Only last month she had purchased a new car, an achievement she was proud of but had drained her reserve. Now, out of work and soon to face a judge, Raisa could barely focus her thoughts.
Maybe she should just call her family and get it over with. Her parents would transfer money into her account to help her, and no doubt her father would be on the next flight anyway, but it would come at the cost of her independence and their trust in her. Sometimes coming from a semi-traditional family had its good points, but it also had its down side.
Raisa glanced at the clock. Time was moving on even if she wasn’t. Uttering a sigh, she shuffled into the bathroom to shower. The first thing she would have to do is apply for unemployment, then search online for attorneys. She briefly considered calling Nick or Noelie, but feared their reactions. Dealing with their own issues, they may not be willing to getting involved. Noelie had invited her to the bar, and Nick had insisted on ordering the Margarita pitcher ... but the ultimate responsibility to drink had lain squarely on her shoulders.
Her phone rang. She paused to look at it, but too fatigued to bother answering, she let it go into voicemail as she closed the bathroom door.
The warm sun embracing the city resplendent in spring foliage did little to ease Raisa’s anxiety as she approached the imposing court house. Rising like a Roman monument above immaculate grounds and pristine fountains, she felt like an ant beneath the lofty marble columns flanking marble steps swarming with people.
Raisa paused to stare at smartly dressed attorneys sporting briefcases and clients of all description flowing in and out of massive doors manned by security checkpoints. The bustle of voices, footsteps and the general din of traffic seemed to grow louder in time with her growing panic. Gazing down at the folder containing her paperwork, she realized that she was grossly unprepared for her court appearance in just under half an hour.
She blinked against incipient tears and mentally cursed herself for not calling her family. Though she had trolled the web for legal sites that could provide advice, her budget even with a month’s pay of severance, would not accommodate the cost of an attorney. Raisa had studied the protocol for acting as her own defense, but staring at the daunting building and the faces of those buzzing around her, she felt little more than a salmon attempting to swim upstream.
Attempting to swallow her fear, Raisa mounted the steps and approached the entrance. Her legs started to feel like jelly, forcing her to lean against a column. It was no use. Her hands were already starting to shake and if her throat got any drier, she would choke.
Uncertain what to do, she retrieved her phone and was about to dial her family, but changed her mind and dialed Neil instead. He had always lent a sympathetic ear to anyone in the office that needed to talk or resolve an issue. Perhaps he could offer some assistance, even if b
elatedly.
Neil’s number rang once, twice ... and continued until the call went into voicemail. Raisa could barely articulate her words when as she left a message, her embarrassment rising as she tried to explain her situation. She was about to hang up when she noticed the charismatic man from the bar walking toward her. Dressed to kill in a designer navy suit, his ebony hair slicked back, he flashed her an electric smile that instantly snared her.
Shocked to see him, Raisa hung up and stared at him.
“Hello,” he said, extending a well-groomed hand. “My name is Lance Vasilis.
We met the other day at The Dockyard.”
Raisa gripped his hand and felt a sensation like an electrical current snake through her flesh. His grip was warm and firm, his fingers lightly caressing her skin as he withdrew his hand. But it was his rich baritone voice, touched with a slight accent that left her feeling as lightheaded as she had felt after downing her one too many Margaritas.
“Mr. Vasilis ...”
“Lance, please.”
Raisa felt her face flush. Here was the epitome of masculinity staring her in the face. She felt the raw confidence oozing from his pores as surely as if she had been standing naked in a steam room. As far as Lance Vasilis was concerned, they had already met.
“I couldn’t help but overhear your call,” he said, his deep blue eyes burning into her. “Perhaps I can help, since you don’t appear to have an attorney.”
Raisa blushed even more deeply but there was no point pretending she wasn’t terrified. “I ... feel like such an idiot,” she finally said. “It was a stupid thing to do, and I ...”
“Can I take a look at your paperwork?” Lance said, motioning to the folder Raisa clutched in a death grip.
She handed it to him and discreetly checked the time on her phone while Lance quickly scanned the documents.
“I’d be willing to represent you, Raisa,” he said, rolling her name the same suggestive way he had rolled the olive in his mouth. “Such a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He glanced at a watch that looked more expensive than some sports cars she had seen in dealer windows. “But decide quickly, as we need to go.”
“You’re an attorney?” she asked.
“The best there is,” he said without a trace of modesty.
Flustered by his unexpected offer, Raisa blurted, “but I can’t afford to pay you. I just got laid off. That’s why I’m in this situation. I was too scared to tell my family, and I ...”
Lance reached for Raisa’s hand and squeezed it. Again, she felt a powerful energy course through flesh to the point of sexual arousal. Her flesh felt warm, and once again, his fingers lingered on her skin as he withdrew his hand. He smiled as if sensing a response he was more than used to eliciting.
“Don’t worry about the money,” he said. “I’d like to help you. From what I see you have a strong case. We can figure something out later.”
Raisa felt the seconds ticking away. They still had to go through the checkpoints and find the courtroom. She had to make a decision and she had to make it now.
“Okay, thank you so much,” she said, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude and relief. “I’d really appreciate it. As soon as I find another job, I’d be happy to pay whatever I owe you.”
Lance simply smiled and took her arm. “Let’s go,” he said. “I’ll just need a few moments of prep.”
Watching Lance address the judge in his suave yet assertive manner, Raisa realized that any attempt she might have made to represent herself would have resulted in complete failure. Judge Sobreski, a pale, bespectacled, stern-faced matron who could have been a Valkyrie in a past life, barely registered any emotion. Formidable in her black robe and cropped silver hair, the only time she moved was to review the documents Lance placed on the bench. Apart from a grim-faced bailiff, the oppressive courtroom was vacant.
The hearing had started promptly at ten, and even though only twenty minutes had passed, to Raisa, the seconds dragged into eternity. She tried not to fidget, but sitting still was impossible as her heart raced until she felt like it would explode from her chest. While Lance’s well-modulated voice resonated throughout the courtroom, she found it impossible to concentrate on anything other than the judge’s stony demeanor.
Silence.
Raisa started. She hadn’t even realized that Lance had finished his defense. He stood before the judge as casually as if he were about to order from a drive-thru menu.
Judge Sobreski pondered the documents for a few moments before finally looking at Lance over her glasses.
“Councillor,” she said in a deep, no-nonsense tone, “while I don’t normally make exceptions for DUI cases, I feel that your client presents a low risk for a repeat offense. However, I will discharge the offense only on the condition that the client completes the driver safety course.”
Feeling completely cowed by the judge’s sonorous voice, Raisa watched anxiously.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Lance said. “The client accepts the judgment and agrees to all conditions.”
“Very well,” she said. “Defendant shall register for the course and pay the appropriate fee to the cashier.” She struck the gavel on the bench. “Case dismissed. Court is adjourned.”
It took all of Raisa’s willpower to keep from fainting from relief. Lance approached her with a broad smile and shook her hand.
“Piece of cake,” he said, again transmitting an intense warmth through her flesh.
“I can’t believe you were able to get me off,” she said. “I didn’t think it was possible.” Raisa paused as she was overcome by emotion. “I don’t know how to thank you. You saved my life, my future ...”
Lance watched her with frank interest. “You made a mistake and now you’ve learned from it. Justice works best when it’s applied in the spirit it was intended. You’re not a dangerous criminal nor are you a threat to society. The classes are an alternative
to more punitive measures that are often unnecessary.”
Raisa looked at him with admiration. Lance was clearly a master of his craft, and he demonstrated a sense of command that she had never encountered with anyone else. He possessed a charisma as intoxicating as a drug, and without even realizing it, she was already becoming addicted.
Lance glanced at his watch. “Let’s get you registered and take care of the cashier. We still need to get your car out of impound as well.”
Raisa’s expression fell. She had forgotten about that expense.
Lance regarded her with an easy smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. Like I said, we can figure something out.”
“It looks fine to me,” Lance said as Raisa inspected her car for the third time.
Concerned about damage to her car after it had been released from impound, she had more than listened to Lance’s advice about checking it, she had painstakingly inspected every inch until she was satisfied that it was in the pristine condition she had left it in.
“This yard is pretty good about preventing damage,” Lance said.
“Well, it’s my first new car so I want to make sure,” Raisa said. “I like to take care of my things.”
Lance regarded her with an appraising, if somewhat predatory gaze.
“I can definitely see that,” he said. “Sanchez ... May I ask what nationality you are?”
Raisa shifted uncomfortably in a simple but flattering black dress that more than showed off her curvaceous figure. Had it not been for her court hearing, she would have dressed more casually.
“Third generation Guatemalan,” she replied. “And you? Vasilis sounds like a Greek name.”
Lance smiled dazzlingly. “It is. Harika pu se gnorisa, Raisa. Pleased to meet you.”
“Encantada de conocerte, Lance,” Raisa replied.
She paused awkwardly, uncertain what else to say and hating herself for acting like a moonstruck teenager around Lance. She was usually more confident and outspoken, but somehow he caused her to feel like she was missing
part of her wardrobe.
“Well, Lance,” she said. “Once again thank you so much for helping me but I really need to be going. I have to file for unemployment and email some resumes.” She flashed an uncertain smile. “Hopefully it won’t take too long for me to find another job. I’d like to repay you as quickly as possible.”
“I already told you we can work something out,” Lance said, briefly glancing at his phone. “I can certainly help you with your job search. You’re a bright and talented young woman, but you’re wasted as someone’s underling. I knew what was happening with your group the other night the minute everyone walked in with their long faces. Seen it too many times before.”
Raisa felt a twinge of annoyance. Her colleagues were people with ambitions and hopes as well, but not everyone managed to ascend the heights of the corporate world.
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