It had been a little more than a year since he and Randa separated and he embarked on his adventure with Yvonne Haggler. His divorce had proved to be a long process and had turned downright ugly at times. The sticking point was money. His winning this trial would only add fuel to Randa's already burning desire for more money. And now she wanted to talk. Until that day, Randa had resisted all his attempts to talk. But when he got home he was met by her voice when he checked his voice mail.
“Marcus, this is Randa. I know you're surprised to hear my voice. But I just wanted to say congratulations on winning your case. You probably won't believe this but I'm proud of you. And I … now I don't know what to say. Funny, huh? The way we used to be able to talk about anything. Now look at me. Well, I've been thinking— you know, about the way I've been acting. And I think maybe you and I just need to sit down and work this whole thing out together. If you want to talk you can reach me at 678 555-7931. I hope you call me, Marcus.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Douglas,” Connie Talbert, Ferguson's assistant said bringing Marcus out of his trance.
“Hello, Connie.”
“Mr. Ferguson would like to see you in his study, when you get a chance. And by the way,” Connie extended her hand. “Congratulations. We're all very pleased with the work you've done for us.”
“Thank you, Connie. I appreciate that,” Marcus said as he finished his drink. “Where can I find his study?”
“It's right over there,” Connie said and pointed to a door on the other side of the room. “But if you'll follow me, I'll take you to him.” Connie extended her arm.
“Well, thank you, ma’am. It would be an honor to be escorted by a beautiful lady,” Marcus said, as he locked his arm in hers. They weaved through the crowd, stopping several times to make small talk with the other guests. Once they reached the study, Connie knocked twice, opened the door, and showed Marcus in, closing the door behind her. Roland was on the phone, but waved Marcus on and gestured for him to have a seat.
“You were saying, Ms. Dent,” Roland said smiling a very satisfied smile as he continued his conversation.
Marcus sat down thinking, Listen to him. His wife is dead and he's moved on with his life. He wondered why he couldn’t do the same. Move on with my life. Maybe once the divorce was over it would be easier. But now, with almost daily reminders, with their lawyers going back and forth, the pain of his separation still ate at him like a fresh wound. He thought about Randa and how they were together. They did just about everything together. People called them the poster children for the perfect relationship. Randa was a wonderful woman. She was beautiful, intelligent and had so much energy. She was always doing something to help somebody. She volunteered at a retirement home a couple days a week and had a teenage girl she was mentoring. They were very happy together. Marcus considered Randa to be his best friend. They had so much in common and would spend hours together just talking. That's the hardest part of dealing with this. Sure he loved her, but they were so close that Marcus felt like he had lost the best part of himself. But she wasn't right. He saw so much in her, but he only saw what he wanted to see. Marcus had put her on a very high pedestal. So high that she was bound to fall off.
The day started out like any other. The alarm went off, and they made love to each other, just like they did every morning. They showered together and then Randa cooked breakfast while Marcus got ready to go to the office. Randa mentioned that she might go shopping with her girlfriend. They ate breakfast and he left for the office, just like they did every morning. Marcus had been working at home the night before, getting ready for a meeting with a client that he had that afternoon and he left the papers at home. He called Randa to see if she could bring him the papers and they could have lunch together. But there was no answer. Marcus needed those papers, so he went home to get them. When he got home her Benz was in the driveway, so Marcus simply figured that her girlfriend came and picked her up and they had gone shopping. He went inside and called her name a few times, but she didn't answer. He went in the den to get his papers, but couldn't find them. Marcus turned on the computer so he could print them. Once they had printed he picked up the papers, then he thought he heard a noise. Marcus stood still for a second, but didn't hear anything. He turned off the computer and headed for the door. He was out of the house and was just about to close the door when he heard the noise again. He turned around and walked up the steps straight to the bedroom and opened the door. There she was, in bed with another man. Marcus stood there, watching. He couldn't move. He walked outside and sat down on the steps. He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there when he heard the door open and close and open again. When he looked up Randa was standing in front of him.
She asked him if he had been in the house. Marcus just looked at her, unable to speak. Once Randa got tired of Marcus staring at her not saying anything, she went back in the house. The two of them came out got in the Benz he paid for, and left.
While Randa was gone Marcus thought about all the things he would say to her.
How could you?
Who is he?
How long has this been going on?
But when she came back he couldn't say anything. She tried to explain that this was the first time. She told him how sorry she was, and she promised Marcus that if he forgave her it would never happen again. Still, he couldn't say a word. He had thought of a hundred things to say but he was so mad, the words just wouldn't come out. After a while he just got up and left.
“Well, Paula, we'll just have to see that you get one of those.” Roland laughed. “I have to go now, my lawyer is here. - - - No, no, there's no trouble, Paula. Just some things we need to go over. - - - We'll get together soon, Ms. Dent.” Roland hung up the phone and turned his attention to Marcus. “Sorry, Marcus,” Roland said, coming around his desk to shake his hand.
“No need to apologize, Mr. Ferguson.”
“Roland, please, call me Roland. I thought it best to maintain a certain level of professionalism during the trial. You understand. No need to be so formal now.” Ferguson starting walking toward the bar in the corner of his study. “Drink?”
“Hennessy neat.”
“I thought we might have a glass of champagne together,” he said as Marcus followed him to the bar.
“That'll be fine, sir.”
Roland uncorked the bottle, filled two glasses, and handed one to Marcus. “Here's to you, Marcus. Congratulations on a job well done.”
“Thank you. And congratulations to you.”
“Me? I didn't do anything. I just sat there and tried to look innocent. You did all the work. I like the way you handle things. It made me mad at first, I thought about firing you a numbers of times. But see that you knew what you were doing. I might be interested in your firm doing some more work for me.”
“Thank you,” Marcus said, somewhat surprised. He knew that Roland had a team of lawyers working for him. “I'm sure my staff can handle any of your needs.”
“If they have the same dedication that you do, I'm sure they will. You know that was one of the first things that impressed me about you, Marcus.”
“What's that?”
“That you own your law firm and you still practice law. I know many people who own law firms and none of them have cracked a law book a years,” Roland said, draining his glass. “But we'll talk about all that some other time. Right now, there's a party going on and you're the guest of honor. So enjoy the party.”