"Okay, sounds good, Ames. I'll let you get back to work. I love you sweetie."
I gather my things and make my way toward my office. As I approach Julie's desk, she hurdles out of her chair. She hurries over to me, with the biggest grin on her face. "Wait until you see this guy," she says, fanning her face with her hand. "He’s hot, Amy. Good luck trying to concentrate. Do you need me to come in and take notes for you?" She winks.
I laugh. "I think I can make due. It's evident that he's flustered you enough. I'm not sure you'd be much help at taking notes. That is, unless you're hungry for a bit of eye candy today."
She stares at me, wide-eyed and grinning. "Wait until you see him, you’ll understand."
I look through the window of the office door. He stands next to my desk, with his back to us, looking out the window. "He doesn't look half bad from the back," I joke.
"Just you wait until you see his front."
I gasp, putting my hand up to my mouth. "Julie! I leave you alone with him for a couple of minutes and you've already explored his 'front'?" I quip, putting my fingers up displaying air quotes.
She slaps my arm. "I'm a married woman. You know what I meant. Get in there. Don't keep him waiting."
Grinning, I stroll to my office. I open the door slowly. "Sorry to keep you waiting," I say, stepping in and turning to close the door behind me. When I turn back around, our eyes meet. Instantly, my legs become weak, my body starts to tingle, my eyes widen, and my breathing hitches. I step back, reaching for the door for support to hold me up. "Tra―" He puts his hands into the pockets of his jeans, while looking intently into my eyes, not saying a single word.
My hand frantically searches for the door handle. "No," I mutter, barely able to speak. Finally finding my voice, "No!" I say louder. "No! No way! Nope. You need to get out." He freezes in place. Finding the door knob, I turn it, swinging the door wide open behind me. "You need to get out now!" My whole body trembles. He doesn't move, and the look on his face is both terror and sadness.
"Please, Amy. Please," he says in a soft tone.
"I can't do this. I just can't do this right now. Please get out of my building, before I get someone to escort you out." He takes another step in my direction, while scanning the room behind me.
"I really―I need your help, Amy."
"No way. Nope. You don't need my help. I don't really know what the hell you’re doing here, but you need to get out."
He bites down on his lower lip. "Amy, I don't know who to turn to. I really…really need your help."
"If the reason you’re here is because you need a lawyer, well San Fran and all of California are full of them. Have your pick. But you don't need it to be me. If you need a referral, you can talk to Julie on your way out. Now please let me get on with my day."
He takes another couple steps toward me, putting his hands out like he's wanting to touch me. I take a step back. "No!"
Opening the door wider, I see a crowd of staff has formed. I scan the room. "Gus, Matthew, please show this guy the door." Stumbling out of my office, I walk on shaky legs to Julie's desk. Gus and Matthew rush toward my office.
"No need. I'm going," Travis says, with his head hanging low. He treads past me and mouths, “Sorry.” I look away, and march back to my office.
After slamming the door behind me, I go over to the conference table, and with both hands I grab one of the three vases of roses. I chuck it as hard as my arms possibly can across the room, and watch it slam into the adjacent wall. Shattering in midair, water and glass goes flying everywhere. I grab the next vase on the table, and throw that one in the same direction. It explodes into pieces as well. While getting ready to grab the last one, I feel a hand pull at my arm from behind. "Don't, Amy," Julie advises. I was so focused in my fit of rage that I hadn't heard her come in. I lower my arms to my sides, and my entire body starts to shudder.
With her hand still on my arm, she pulls out a chair and directs me to sit. I lower myself into the chair while a sob forms. I cry. I rest my folded arms on the table and lower my head down onto them, and weep so hard that it rocks my entire body. Tears roll out of my eyes, down my face, and along my neck. Julie pulls a chair next to me, and leans in, rubbing my back. She sits silent, while I continue to cry for a long time.
When my tears cease forming, I sit with my head lowered on my arms, taking in slow breaths, attempting to calm myself. "I once loved him," I slur, between gasps, in a tone barely loud enough for anyone but myself.
"I'm sorry."
Raising my head from my arms, Julie offers me a tissue. "I loved him with every ounce of my being, and he tore up my world in return."
"I had no idea that you knew him when he called asking to meet with you. I'm so sorry, Amy. I would have never made the appointment, had I known."
"You couldn't have known," I respond, shaking my head. And it's that moment I'm reminded why he was here. My chest tightens. "It's his parents?"
"What?"
"It’s his parents. Someone killed his parents?" Somehow tears have found a way to form in my eyes again.
"Yeah."
There’s a light knock at the door. It opens slightly, and Laura looks in. She enters the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. She comes to my side and stops when she sees the pool of water, glass, and roses covering the floor. Pulling a chair out on the other side of me, she sits, putting an arm around my shoulder. "I can't believe he had the nerve to show up here."
I stare at her and shake my head in disbelief. "Of all the law firms in the state, why does he think that I'm the best person to help him, after all that we've been through? Did he really think that I’m able to forget what he did to me?" I rest my head on her shoulder. "Did you hear? His parents were killed.”
"I just heard about it. That's really sad."
Travis was once the love of my life. He was my entire world, until he decided to cheat on me and knock up some bimbo. We started dating when we were sophomores in high school, and our relationship grew until we became inseparable. We were excited when we both received our acceptance letters to Stanford. But then shortly afterward, Travis received notice that Yale was going to give him a full scholarship into the engineering program. He felt like he needed to take the scholarship; his parents weren't wealthy. They would be able to pay his loans while he was in school, but he would have had to take over payments once he graduated. That thought overwhelmed him. We made a pact that we would make it work; we convinced ourselves that our love was so strong that nothing could come between us. But six weeks after starting college, I got word that he was cheating on me. And the girl he was with was pregnant―three months pregnant. It shattered my world into a million pieces. I took the rest of the semester off and moved back home, spending every day lying in bed. My heart hurt so much that I decided I couldn't go on anymore, so I overdosed on my mom's prescription medication. After my mom found me unconscious, they had to revive me and pump the pills out of my system in the ER. It devastated my parents. I returned to school five months later and dedicated all of my time to studying, not giving a minute to any guy who happened to make advances. Beyond the initial phone calls, that went unanswered, I never heard from Travis again…until today. Seeing him in my office brought me back to that dark time in my life.
I convince Laura and Julie that I'll be fine—I’mreally just wanting to be alone for a bit. After cleaning up the shattered glass and roses that blanket the floor, I throw it all in the trash. Why does every guy I give my heart to feel the need to cheat on me?
Deciding I need to get out of the office, I tell Julie that I'm leaving for the afternoon, and advise her to reschedule the rest of my meetings for the day. After lowering the roof on my convertible, I decide that I'm going to grab lunch and sit in the park. Immediately the thought of where I want to be sets in. I snatch my phone out of my purse and call Tracy. "Are you at work right now?"
"Yeah, I'm here, but just chatting with the girls. My last client left for the day. Why?"
"Oh―kay."
"I’ll pick you up and explain on the way." I make a U-turn, heading back in the direction of her hair salon.
• • • •
An hour later, we’re being escorted to our table on the patio of the Love Shack. "Do you think he did it?" Tracy asks, sitting down at the table.
"I would like to think not, but I don't know. I haven't been in contact with him in over thirteen years. I have no idea the person he's turned out to be, or what he's capable of." I shake my head.
"It was on the news last night. They were saying that one person is in custody, and they’re questioning another. They never mentioned who it was, but it must be Travis and his brother," she says, with a concerned expression. "They mentioned that the victims were both stabbed multiple times. The police have the murder weapon. The news showed the house with police tape around it. The cops were carrying out bags of evidence."
"I can't even wrap my mind around the fact that they’re dead, Tracy. The thought that they were murdered makes my stomach hurt. They were such great people. I can't even think of anyone who would have wanted to harm them. I now regret not keeping in touch. They were like family to me. When Travis cheated on me, I couldn't get myself to talk to anyone in that family. I felt like they all betrayed me." Our drinks arrive, and I down mine in one swift gulp before the waitress leaves.
"Can I get you another?" she asks, looking at me from the corner of her eye.
"Keep 'em coming."
"Not to change the subject, but did you ever find more out about Rich?"
"No. I haven't had much time alone the past couple days. He's been borderline sugary sweet, even bringing dinner home from Alexander’s last night. He went over to my mom's to get the itinerary for the cruise on Thursday, and scheduled a car to take us to the port in the morning," I say, with a quizzical look on my face. "I think Maria found the battery to the TracFone. It was sitting on my dresser when I got home from work yesterday."
"Are you sure it was her that found it? Could it have been Rich?"
"I thought the same thing too, but Maria was over yesterday. I know she swept and mopped the floors. Rich was still in his suit, and showed no signs that he had been upstairs at all when I got home," I shrug. "If he was the one to find it, I think he would have confronted me with it."
"I'm not so sure of that, Amy," she says, furrowing her brow and shrugging. "So Rich is really going to take time off from work to go with you guys this weekend?"
"Yeah. I have to admit that I’m just as surprised. I can barely get him to spend a Friday evening with me, so I was certain he wasn't going. But he is."
"Hmm, interesting."
She stands, telling me that she has to go to the restroom. I sit, looking out at the ocean and attempt to push back the thought that Travis' parents were killed. It consumes me with complete sadness.
"Amy. Hello, Amy," Tracy says, waving a hand in front of my face. I look at her. "I've been trying to get your attention. What were you thinking about?"
“Sorry. I can't get the thought of Travis' parents out of my head. Not to mention, he’s only thirty-two, and now has to live without his mom or dad. And his kid—or kids,since I don't even know how many he has now—lost their grandparents."
"Are you becoming soft, Amy?" she questions with a hint of concern. "Because, I swear, during the entire ride here, you did nothing but curse his name repeatedly."
"Don't worry, I still want to curse his name. But his parents don't deserve what was done to them. And no child deserves to have their parents brutally ripped out of their lives."
"I know. So what now?"
"What now?" I repeat. "Nothing. I go on the cruise with my family on Thursday. I’ll figure out what to do about Rich when we get back. I refuse to leave it as it is. I need to know what exactly that TracFone is about, and if he’s still cheating on me."
"And if he is?"
"Then I kick his ass to the curb, plain and simple. I’m a grown woman now. I refuse to let any man put me through all that again," I shoot back, raising my eyebrows, displaying confidence.
"I'll drink to that." She smiles. "Can you get the two grown women another round of drinks over here?" she says, putting her hand up to signal the waitress, who is now flirting with the bartender.
Chapter Six
Wednesday
April 17, 2013
4:52 p.m.
The workday passes quickly, not even having much time for lunch. I meet with the attorneys, making sure they have everything they need while I'm away. While looking at my email one last time, Laura walks in. She pulls out a chair and slumps down.
"So how was your meeting?"
She shrugs, looking unamused. "It went good. I always hate going to that place. I leave there feeling dirty." She tenses her shoulders and curls her lip in disgust.
Laura had to meet with a client at the California State Prison in Los Angeles, and that place always leaves a woman feeling like a piece of meat.
"I know. I hate it too. The stares and nasty comments they yell out to the women in that place. Ugh," I say, looking equally disgusted. "So when is the trial?"
"Not until the middle of June," she responds, standing. "You're leaving in the morning?"
"Yeah. I believe the car is picking us up around ten o’clock to take us to the port."
She nods once, and then simply stands there for a moment. "Have a good time," she says before the silence begins to feel uncomfortable.
"I will. It’ll be nice to spend time with my family." She nods slightly again.
Walking to the door, she pauses after turning back in my direction. "Can we make time to talk when you get back?"
Pressing my lips together, I look up at her with a concerned face. "Yeah, sure. Is everything all right?"
She shrugs. "Of course it is. We haven't had much time to talk lately," she answers, with a forced smile.
"Are you sure that's all?"
"Yeah, of course. Plus, I still haven't taken you out for your birthday."
"Okay," I say, still not really convinced that there isn’t something she needs to talk to me about.
"Have a good time, Amy. I'll see you Monday." She turns, and saunters out of the office.
I'm left feeling a bit unsettled, and hoping that she doesn’t want to leave the firm because of what happened in court on Monday. She's always hard on herself, so much more than even I am.
My phone dings just as I’m turning off the computer. A text from Rich: Need to work a bit later tonight to finish up some things, since I'll be gone for a few days. Don't wait for me for dinner. I'll grab something quick at work.
"Whatever," I say under my breath. I grab my bag and keys, and turn the lights off, closing the door behind me. "What are you still doing here?"
"I’m finishing up a few last minute things," Julie responds, typing.
"Get home. That can wait until tomorrow. Come on, we'll walk out together." She smiles, and finishes up, before turning off her computer.
• • • •
I spend the next few hours packing my suitcase―stuffing enough clothes for a month-long vacation. Realizing I should pack a couple of sweaters, since it may be cold in the evenings on the ship, I go to my closet and reach up on the shelf. While grabbing a sweater, the pieces of the TracFone fall to the floor. The sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach returns. I pick the pieces up and shove them back under the clothes on the shelf. While adding the sweaters to the stack in the suitcase, I look over at the clock and see that it’s ten twenty-five.
I decide to get in the shower and call it a night. Upon getting out of the shower, footsteps approach on the stairs. While bushing my hair, Rich peeks into the bathroom.
"Hi."
"Hey."
"Did you pack?"
"Yeah, I think I have everything."
"I guess it's my turn then," he says, walking to the closet.
"What time is the car coming to
pick us up in the morning?" I inquire, peering out of the bathroom while brushing my teeth.
"Ten-forty-five."
"That late?"
"Yeah. We can't board until eleven-thirty."
I finish up in the bathroom, and lay in bed while watching Rich pack.
I must have fallen asleep because I awake to him shutting off the bedroom light. I close my eyes and resume my sleep.
Chapter Seven
Thursday
April 18, 2013
10:37 a.m.
My phone chimes. It's a text from my mom: Call me when you get here, and we'll meet up.
I respond: Okay, see you soon.
I put the phone in the front pocket of the suitcase. Rich is in the office, typing on the computer, so I drag our bags downstairs from the bedroom. I set them outside on the porch.
He strolls out the office. "The car is going to be a bit late. Mark called saying that there’s some kind of accident on the highway, and traffic is backed up."
"How late?"
He shrugs, looking unconcerned. "He said ten or fifteen minutes."
Feeling frustrated, I plop myself down on the top step. The minutes feel like hours. Finally at eleven-ten, Mark pulls up. "He's here," I call to Rich. He comes out, and locks the door to the house. Mark meets us to take our bags. Not apologizing for being late, he puts our suitcases in the trunk of the car, and opens the back door for me.
On our way, I keep glancing at my watch. It feels like forever. “Doesn't he know we’re running late," I remark to Rich, under my breath. He shrugs. Finally we arrive at the port. I note that it's eleven-forty-eight. At least we still have time. Mark takes our bags out of the trunk, while Rich walks over to the check-in booth. Taking my phone out of the suitcase, I see that I have two missed calls and four text messages. "What the hell?"
I open up the first text message, received at ten-forty-one. It's from my brother: Where are you?
The next text message is from my mom, received at ten-fifty-two: Amy, answer your phone. We’re boarding right now. Where are you guys? Call me when you get here.
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