(Colleen)
… as cheesy porn music starts to play.
BRAD STALKS INTO
the room. He is absolutely livid. Oh well, I’m not real pleased with him, either. “What the fuck is your problem?” He growls, making his way to the sink. He grabs the nearest hand towel and wets it.
“I
’m mortified, you asshole. What was this, all a ploy to embarrass me?” His scowl turns to a frown.
“No,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. I asked
Vicky to stop by earlier when I was pissed. I didn’t know you were going to maul me when you got home.” I don’t miss the smile forming on his lips. Brad likes to be mauled. I’m saving this for later, you know, when I don’t want his nuts on a stick.
“I know. But this is embarrassing,” I mutter. My anger is waning. Part of me wants to be angry with him; the other part of me wants to drag him back upstairs. I
feel really bipolar right now.
“
Colleen,” he says, moving to my side. “This was all a ploy to make you jealous, pretty girl. I know how possessive you get.” He chuckles. I scoff. I’m not that stupid. I know that man and the amazing Mac have been around, and if he thinks he’s going to convince me that bringing Veronica here was for the benefit of our… relationship… he can just kiss my somewhat perky ass.
“You’re a big, stupid liar!” I snap and march through the living room and up the stairs into our bedroom.
Vicky is still in her spot on the couch.
Sticky slut
. I slam the door when I get to our room. Because, you know, I’m mature like that. Brad brings out the worst in me, he always has.
I sit on the bed and sulk for a while. I can hear Sir Moron down there apologizing to Sticky Slut. He doesn’t take long sending her off. I really don’t want to see him right now, so I quickly gather a change of clothes and rush to the bathroom down the hall. Right now I wish we had more than one bathroom so he won’t be tem
pted to come in for any reason.
I hop in the shower and turn the water on hot. I don’t know what I’m trying to wash away: the hurt or the humiliation. I had stupidly believed that sex
would change things between us. Just as I’m getting comfortable under the spray, the bathroom door swings open. I peek around the shower curtain to see Brad’s chest heaving.
“You can’t just go around being a bitch t
o whomever you want!” he yells.
“Oh yeah? Watch me!” I laugh and stick my tongue out. Slowly, he walks into the bathroom and rips off his pajama pants. My rueful laugh turns to a horrified squeak. If he thinks he’s getting in this shower after the humiliation I jus
t suffered he’s damned mistaken.
“
Brad!” I warn, shifting my weight from my left foot to my right. “Do not even think about it.” His eyes twinkle and I know I’m completely screwed. Okay, maybe not completely screwed yet, but by the grace of God, I’m about to be. Oh, Mac!
“You know you want me, baby” he coos, stroking himself. Mac grows instantly.
Oh no you don’t!
“After that spectacle?” I ask, annoyed. “Not even you’re that good, pretty boy.” He takes a few more steps forward. If I don’t do something soon he’s going to be in the shower with me. I lean down and grab the first thing I get my hand on—a can of my shaving cream—and throw it at him. He lets go of Mac and blocks himself as best he can. The can
bounces off of his upper thigh.
“What the fuck!” he shouts. “Woman, you are unbalanced!” He takes a few more steps toward me and I throw the shampoo bottle, but it doesn’t deter him. With every step he takes I throw one more item at him; still he won’t stop. Finally, he steps into the shower. I narrow my eyes at him and reach out to push him away but he catches my hand first and wraps it around Mac who throbs beneath my touch; and I’m a goner.
SUNDAY MORNING I
ran out of the house before Brad even woke up. I called Lindsay and asked her if she wanted to go to the museum with me. Lindsay is a museum tramp. Me, I’d rather go shopping, but whatever. It was a convenient distraction from the horny bastard I left at home. The only real issue I’d had on Sunday was the never-ending questions about why I was avoiding Brad. I couldn’t really answer them without someone winning that stupid bet; of which Brad and I have vowed not to tell anybody. Let them sit and wonder.
Monday morning has come quickly, thank God. I just don’t know how much more time I can spend with
Brad, alone, in this house. It seems the angrier I am with him, the more I want to have sex with him; and he sure is excellent at pissing me off.
I sip my coffee while I stand at the kitchen counter. I have my purse and brief case beside me, all ready to go.
Brad isn’t due into the station until late morning, so when he walks downstairs butt naked, I’m a little surprised.
“Mornin’ pretty girl,”
Brad mumbles. He slides up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. I lean my head back and place my coffee mug to his lips. He slips it carefully and smacks his lips. I smile up at him over my shoulder. We’ve been getting along since Sunday evening. Well, when we’re having sex we get along; so we’ve been having a lot of sex. As Brad says “we finally found a way to get along.” So now we’re all about “getting along.”
“Where’s you
r laptop?” Brad asks as he nuzzles my neck. I curl my face into him and giggle.
“It’s in my briefcase,” I laugh.
Brad tenses behind me.
“Can you
leave it here today?” he asks. I turn to face him. My smile falls when I see the look on his face. He’s nervous.
“I can’t,” I say, m
y brow furrowing. “Why?” I ask.
“I sort of broke mine last week,” he says. He’s acting strange. I figure maybe he wants to borrow it for a little self-loving before work. Before all the sex I’d be grossed out. Now, I’d leave it with him if I didn’t have it take it to court with me today. I set down my coffee mug a
nd grab my purse and briefcase.
“
Colleen!” he shouts. I turn to look at him.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“You can’t take the laptop with you today! You have to leave it here!” I step away from him and walk quickly towards the front door.
“You are acting very weird, pretty boy,” I laugh and rush out of
the house without looking back.
The drive to the office is quick, there is very little traffic. It’s not the short commute that I enjoyed to and from my condo, but it’s not bad; and I have to admit that I kind of like being back in the old neighborhood.
It reminds me of every good thing I’d forgotten in my time spent downtown. People know me in Southie, some of them even love me. I came up on these streets, left my mark, and for a number of reasons that I can’t remember right now, I ran away as fast as I could.
Once in the office, I avoid looking anyone in the eye. I don’t feel nearly as
comfortable here as I used to and it seems as though I’m not as welcome as I used to be. If I think too long on it all, I might feel like I’m regressing into who I used to be. Used to. It seems that everything has changed as a result of my marrying Brad. Had I known this, I don’t know if I would have married him back in Vegas. Realizing I’m in love with him is just a strange byproduct of our marriage, though I have a hard time truly regretting it.
An hour after arriving in the office and my head is spinning. I still haven’t had time to turn my laptop on much less do a last minute review of my notes.
Thomas is all smiles this morning and I suspect it’s because I’m the idiot who signed that stupid form regarding my conduct. I have half a mind to shove that conduct form up The Toad’s ass.
“You ready to go,
Colleen?” Thomas pops his head into my office. I smile politely up at him and nod.
“Yes,” I say, “and you?”
Thomas nods and gestures me to follow him. I grab my briefcase and we leave the building for the courthouse.
“And how is married life, Mrs.
Patrick?” Thomas asks. I note the hint of faux interest in his voice. The mask he wears on his face is one of kindness, but I know better.
“I’m loving it,” I smile genuinely up at him. “How are
Lisa and the kids?” I ask. Thomas tenses up. He doesn’t like to discuss his wife and children with me. It seems to put a damper on his attempts to get into my pants.
Disgusting fool.
“Fine,” he clears his throat and turns his attention elsewhere. It seems
that catch-up time is through.
We get into the mediator’s office in the courthouse and settle in. I pull out my laptop and turn it on. It’s just me and
Thomas in here right now so I have a few minutes to re-group before the Judge, the mediator, opposing counsel, and our clients come in. I just hope it’s enough time to get everything started up.
I sit down just as the computer starts up. I stretch my legs out underneath the large conference
table. With my hands held onto the side of the table and my legs stretched out, I hear moaning. My eyes shoot up to Thomas who is staring at me quizzically. I don’t know where it’s coming from, so I really wish he’d stop staring at me. The laptop screen goes black and cheesy porn music starts to play. My mouth drops open as a cheesy porn movie plays on my laptop screen. In a moment of unforgettable horror, my hands push off from the table but the wheels to my chair get caught on something below. I screech as I fly backwards, head first to the floor.
Thomas
rushes around the table and closes the laptop screen but the porn music continues to play. Me, with my heels high in the air and my skirt inching its way upwards, I scramble from my position on the floor to stand; but it’s no use. Thomas is standing over me, doing everything in his power to stop my laptop’s shenanigans, while effectively blocking any means of me righting myself. Finally, I give up and kick him a little on my way to standing.
“What the hell is this,
Colleen? Thomas hisses. Tears flood my eyes and I shake my head.
“I…” I whisper-sob, “I don’t know!” I reach over to open the laptop screen and am greeted by what can only be described as some kind of man-on-man free-for-all. “Ew!” I yell as I fumble around to pull the battery out. Just as I have my hand on the ba
ttery pack, the Judge walks in.
“Counsel,” he says sternly, “what in God’s name is going on in here?” He is beat red and in no mood for a half-assed explanation set to cheesy porn music. My heart beats in my chest so hard that I worry it might jump out. Finally, I regain my senses and yank the battery out and the music finally stops. I hear the Judge railing on us in the background but all I can make out are the words “embarrassment”, “professionalism”, “lawsuit”, and “contempt.” All I can think is “please, God, don’t let me ge
t fired or disbarred for this.”
Thomas
dismisses me from the room and allows me to clean up in the bathroom down the corridor. He is clear to make sure I return because “despite [my] inability to remember my position as an officer of the law, a position which is to be taken seriously,” he still needs me in there today and he doesn’t have time to replace me as co-chair. I can’t really blame him because I wouldn’t want to be around me right now, either. I know for certain that the porn music was intended to be some kind of joke, but as always, it didn’t turn out quite so funny.
In the bathroom, I clean myself up and check my cell
phone. I have two missed phone calls and three missed text messages from Brad. “Hey pretty girl. Please do not open your laptop today. I’m not kidding. Adam installed this porn virus on it as a joke. Please call me back.”
Oh.
Oh.
He
thinks he’s funny. That’s okay. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned
. Game on, Mr. Patrick.
(C0lleen)
She’s the only person who’s always been supportive of my choices
.
THE MEDIATION ENDS
without any more fuss despite the fact that I can’t access my notes on the case because they’re tucked away in the
porntop
. Thankfully, I know my stuff and I manage just fine without them.
“You did well,
Colleen,” Thomas says as we load everything back in his Lexus. Whenever we need to leave the office for business purposes, we take his car. Apparently, my three-year new Honda doesn’t send the right image to our clients. Like his Lexus does? If I were our client, that Lexus would tell me I’m being overcharged.
“Again,” I say, exasperated, “I am so very sorry for what happened.” I climb into the passenger seat.
Thomas looks at me from his driver’s seat and pats my knee. I try to shrug it off and ignore the inappropriateness of his hand on my knee—his very married hand on my very married knee. Pig.
“
Colleen,” Thomas says, patting my knee. I place my hand near his so that he can’t move up my leg; which he is very likely to attempt. “I always thought you had potential as an attorney. You’re a smart girl; but I remember telling you that when you were first hired on at the firm that you were going to have to make some sacrifices.” I nod. I remember that, but have no desire to reminisce.
“I remember telling you that my family has made it ver
y difficult for me to pursue my career,” I say, thinking it all over. At my law school graduation, they all showed up and my dad proceeded to tell my favorite professor that he was shocked I’d gone through with it and finished. When Professor Jameson asked him why, he laughed and said that the women in our family never pursued college much less with a graduate degree and a career. Nope, not the women in our family; we’ve got birthing hips and we’re built for changing diapers and feeding hungry men. That’s all they assume we’re good for and that’s what we’re raised to believe we should be doing.
I was so angry with him at that moment. My own father
, who had supported James in everything he did, and couldn’t be happier now that he’s on the force, just tore down every single one of my accomplishments because they weren’t what he had wanted of me. Right then, Grammy walked up and told me that she’s never been more proud of me than in that moment. She is the only person who’s always been supportive of my choices.
“Yeah, and what advice did I give you?”
Thomas asks, a hint of laughter in his tone. He pulls out of the parking space and we make our way back to the office.
“You told me to keep them at a distance if I really wanted to excel here,” I whisper.
Thomas nods. When I started at the firm I was so eager to do anything I could to succeed. I wanted so bad to fit in that I could barely stomach it. But now, I haven’t had as much fun as I have since I married Brad; nor have I been so angry or annoyed. I have never felt so alive or so loved.
Before my birthday I had lived in a mind-numbing but
predictable routine. I woke up and went into the office where I studied precedents and worked on my cases without distraction. I went home every night to my quiet, peaceful condo and re-read my notes from the day and then settled in with a good vampire book.
I scoot
Thomas’s hand off my knee and he re-positions it on the gear shaft for the rest of the drive. The afternoon at the office passes quickly. I immerse myself in my cases as best I can; but my mind continues to slip back to how best to pay Brad back for the porntop prank. And Adam—that jerk is going down, too.
“Hey,”
Thomas pops his head into my office. I look up from my handwritten notes and give him a professional smile. His mood has done a complete flip since last week. I don’t really know where I stand with him except for the fact that he still wants to get into my pants. “I just wanted to let you know that regardless of what happened this morning, I know that wasn’t your fault. I know that was your idiot husband’s fault.” I sit back in my chair, stunned. Yeah, that wasn’t one of Brad’s finer moments, but did he just call him an idiot?
“
Brad isn’t an idiot, Thomas,” I say as gently as possible. “He was just fooling around. He tried to stop me from taking the laptop with me this morning.”
“It was still rather juvenile, though, wasn’t it?” he laughs. “I mean, he’s what,
thirty-five? It’s time to grow up, don’t you think?” I stand up and raise my eyebrows at him.
“This coming from a man whose wife’s Barbie dolls take up an entire room in their house?” I quip. Yeah, unfortunately, I’ve seen
Lisa Nate’s Barbie room. The walls are painted pink and the ceiling is painted with clouds to look like the sky. The damn whack job even put in green carpet. She told me it looks like grass, which she says sounded like a great idea at the time but now she’s not so sure because Barbie needs a road to drive on. And all I could think was “get me the hell out of here.”
“That’s a priceless collection,
Colleen, and you know it!” Thomas looks upset. I laugh, annoyed. So he can insult my husband but I can’t tell the truth about his wife? Oh, I don’t think so.
“Priceless, my ass! She plays with them,
Thomas! She won’t even let your kids into the room for fear that one of them will mess up her precious, insane little world!” I place my hands on my desk and lean forward. I am thoroughly pissed off. “And watch your step, Mr. Nate. You can insult my grades from law school. You can question my judgment as an attorney; but do not think that I will stand for you insulting my husband.” I straighten myself up, grab my purse and briefcase and push past him and out the door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr.
Nate; and I highly suggest that the next time we speak we keep things on a professional level and leave our spouses out of it.” I close my speech by turning on my heel and marching out.
IT’S AFTER DARK
by the time I get to Lindsay and Adam’s apartment. Brad called to see if I’m staying out late just to make him worry. It seems that he stopped by the house just as the sun set to make sure I was home. I let him know that I was going to be with Adam and Lindsay to which he promptly said goodbye and hung up no doubt worrying over what hell I’m going to put Adam through. For now, I’m just going to let them both think that I have a plan. That always makes them paranoid.
“Well, hello
Colleen,” Lindsay says as I breeze through their front door and sit down at the table.
“Heya guys,” I say, looking at the dinner spread set out before them: baked chicken, asparagus, and a side salad. It looks pretty good. I grab
Adam’s fork from him and cut myself a piece of chicken.
“Help yourself,”
Adam says sarcastically, giving me a look. I smile and take another bite.
“I will, thank you, computer boy,” I smile. His face blanches. He knows I know. Good. Now it’s time to make him squirm. “So, anyway,” I clear my throat, smiling. “You guys still got that Viagra, right?”
Lindsay and Adam share a nervous glance. I just continue to smile at them, knowing they’ll give me what I’ve asked for.