Billionaire Secrets of a Wanglorious Bastard (9 page)

I wish Enos would slip on the wet bar floor. I fucked with the salt shaker.

“Office romances? You never tell your girl about that.”

I pulled out some napkins from a dispenser.

“All firm relationships are doomed. So now you know and can focus on Rita.”

“If you like her so much, Enos, why don't you hook up with her?”

“It's against my principles.”

“Principles? You?”

“As a point guard, it's my job to set plays and distribute the rock to my teammates so they can score. I'll take a shot now and then, but I can't take 'em all.”

“Whatever.”

“You're a just another law firm romance casualty.”

“Maybe I should've—”

“Should've, would've, could've. What can you do? Romantic dinners on speakerphone? Her at home and you at work eating different meals at the same time, while music plays in the background?”

“That does sound sweet.”

“That's crap. It's fake.”

“It shows thought. Something you'd never know, Enos.”

He sucked his teeth.

The bartender leaned in to us. “We don't have the time we used to, but it's how we use the time we do have. That's where the little things add up.”

I said, “Thanks for making me feel so much better.” I stood up. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to kill myself.”

As I left, Enos followed.

I said, “Can't you leave me alone?”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—”

“Didn't mean what? To tell the truth?”

“Look, cuz.”

“Look, I have some unfinished business to do.”

“Can I walk you to a cab at least?”

“No. You go back to work. I'm just making a quick stop.”

38

“I KNOW IT'S
been long since you've had our latte, but damn.”

“Sit down, Sif.”

“Okay, let me just—”

“Now.”

Her “man” came out of the kitchen. Sif waved him away and sat.
 

I said, “You haven't been honest with me.”

“Honest about what?”

“You know, your affinity for cheating, lying, porking.”

“Porking?”

“Don't play dumb.”

“I honestly have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Stealing clients’ money? Harassing a partner's wife?”

“Who told you these things?”

“Does it really matter?”

“You don't believe them, do you?”

“I don't know what to believe.”

“I can't believe they got to you.” She got up and started walking away.

“Don't you walk away.”

“Don't you tell me what to do.”

“I'm not telling you what to do. I'm merely making a suggestion.”

“What do you want?”

“An answer? A denial? For you to admit it?”

She started to walk away again. I popped up.

“Sif, I'm talking to you.”

“About what? Huh? You know, I'm not even going to bother.”

39

“RHAGE? IT'S ME.
Don't hang up, please. Look, I've been thinking about us, and you're right. I have been taking you for granted and it's not fair to you.”

I was so glad she was at home. I was at work at lunch, in what they called a “war room.” Pretty dramatic name for a closet filled with documents for review. She said, “And?”

“I'm willing to do anything to get you back.”

“Will you get a male secretary?”

“Yes.”

“Rufus, you haven't, you know, since we broke up?”

“No. It's just me and these documents. All alone. With no one around. It's kind of lonely, you know.”

“It is?”

“And I be havin' thoughts.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, baby.”

Just then, Gladys stumbled in. Her headphones flew into the air and landed on my phone receiver. Sounds of farm fun flooded the air.

She said, “I can't believe I ripped your briefs.”

Rhage must have heard. “Who the fuck is that?”

I said, “It's not what you think.” I tried turning the sound down, but ended up turning it, well, up.

Gladys tried to help. She waddled to me with tattered papers in hand and said, “I guess I didn't know my own strength—”

Rhage heard that too. “What's going on?”

Gladys said, “I guess I was too excited.”

“Hello? Rhage?” She hung up.

“I guess I should've knocked, huh?”

***

It rained buckets as I scrambled to a cab. One finally stopped.

“Where to?”

“To save my relationship.”

40

SOAKING WET, I
dripped down a hallway carrying a signed copy of Her's and Him's first comic book appearance. I hoped it would summon memories of what brought us together.
 

***

We’d attended a comic con together when things were better between the two of us. I was dressed as Him. She was dressed as Her. Him, being the golden badass Adam Warlock. Her, being the golden goddess just known as, well, Goddess or Kismet, which is what it was when we met. Like Warlock emerging from the cocoon, Rhage made me a man. I have to admit, it was pretty underwhelming when we first did it. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, it's just all that fireworks and magic once virginity is lost just didn't happen. In fact, things got progressively worse each time we did it. She'd just lie there, like a corpse. Not that I've done it with a corpse, and I'm not suggesting she was cold down there; I mean, she was cold, but not cadaver cold, if you know what I mean. Anyway, she'd just lie there. And when I was done, she'd turn to her side and ball up in a fetal position. She never wanted to talk about it. She still didn’t. I mean, we hadn't done it in a while. I didn't know if it was a reflection of my skills, or lack thereof. Or maybe hers? It reminded me of Billy Bob saying boning who the world considered to be the most beautiful woman could be as boring as doing your couch. I'm not trying to objectify my woman, but I was beginning to see what he meant. The weird thing was that masturbation made me feel guilty enough. Hooking up with my girlfriend shouldn't give me more guilt that that. Or be less pleasurable.

Anyway, maybe it was me. Maybe I was wack in the sack and she didn't have the heart to tell me. And I wasn't sure I wanted to know. Who would? Maybe I should've ended up going into the ministry like my folks suggested and become a monk. Would my law school forgive my loans? Maybe it was something to think about. So much for ending up like my grandpa. That would be the end of it. Not like it ever began.

***

Outside of our apartment, I also held a card that read “TO MY PERFECT WHOLE.” It was my spin on “perfect half,” get it? I took a deep breath and wiped my wet brow.
 

And heard guttural grunts bellow through the hallway, accompanied by oinking.

Was Gladys up in this piece?
 

As I made my way to my apartment, animal growls reverberated through the door. Bamboozled, I placed my ear to the door.

“Rhage?”

I scrambled through my pockets and fumbled with a key. I unlocked the door, and as I opened it, a whip cracked. I bugged out and dropped the comic, which crashed on the floor.

What I saw could not be repeated. What I saw should not be remembered. What I saw made me realize that the woman I thought I knew was something entirely different.

If I wrote what I'd seen, this book would need a brown wrapper.
 

I needed somewhere to go to clear my head.

41

I TOOK NOTES
as Gropius lectured.

I said, “So you want all the jurisdictions?”

“Yes. We generally update the memo every few months. I'll send you the email we've recycled for years explaining the parameters of the assignment.”

“How long should it take?”

“No more than a few hours.”

“Okay.”

“Also, I want you to be in your office at lunch so you can receive a faxed brief we need you to edit by tomorrow at nine.”

“Do I turn it in to you?”

“No, you just fax it back to the number you see attached to the brief. Understood?”

Yes.
 

Back in my office, I read an email from Gropius and conducted research online.

Then I did the research that I won't bore you by mentioning, until I received a fax on her desk and read it.

Turned out I was doing the wrong thing. And to make it right, I worked throughout the night and fell asleep at my desk.
 

The custodian's vacuum cleaner woke me up.
 

I scrambled with a cart filled with books back to the library and then returned to my office, typing with fury. When finished printing, I faxed my masterpiece and went back to sleep at my desk. This time an email notification woke me up. I wiped the drool from my mouth and scanned a message from Gropius that read “GREAT JOB! SEND ME THE UPDATED MEMO ASAP!”

I groggily handed a memo to Gropius. “This is it?”

“I checked the relevant cases and shepardized them. Unless something is coming down the pike as we speak, I have all the jurisdictions covered.”

He thumbed through it. “Looks good. Thanks.” He scanned me. “You look whipped.”

“I've been here all night.”

“And billing correctly?”

“I will, sir.”

“Good. Take the day off and get some rest. You deserve it.”

Jackpot. “Thank you, sir.”

According to my calculations, I didn't need any more hours for the week.
 

I went home and it was a mess, with no sign of Rhage or her stuff. I was too tired to change my clothes, so I passed out on my bed.

42

“SIT DOWN, RUFUS.”

I did what Grimes suggested. He was seated next to Stack, across from me in the conference room.

Grimes said, “Rufus, before I begin, I'd just like to say that everyone in this room is your friend.”

“I like you guys, too.”

Grimes said, “I'm going to make this short. At Krueller, we don't tolerate plagiarism in any form.”

“Plagiarism?”

He pushed a memo to me across the table. “You were supposed to update this yourself.”

I scanned the memo. “I did.”

“Then why is the language the same as in the previous version?”

“What language?”

“It doesn't matter.”

“I think it does. I mean, if I'm being charged with plagiarism, I'd like to at least see where.”

Stack said, “I told you he'd lie.”

Lie? “Excuse me?”

Grimes said, “First Rick, now this.”

Stack said, “And not a single positive review.”

Grimes said, “Frankly, we don't think things are working out.”

I said, “I've had positive reviews. Gropius told me I did a great job.”

Stack said, “Not according to what he told me a few minutes ago.”

I said, “But I have the email.”

Stack said, “What?”

“The email he sent.”

Stack leaned in to Grimes. “He's lying.”

I said, “No, I'll get it.”
 

I rushed to my office, and scrambled through my email, and found one that read, “GREAT JOB! SEND ME THE UPDATED MEMO ASAP!” and printed it. Before leaving, I looked at my billable log and confirmed I didn't need any additional hours.

Back in the conference room, I beamed as Stack and Grimes scrutinize the printed email.

Grimes said, “This doesn't prove anything.”

“What?”

Stack said, “The term ‘great,’ when applied to summer associate work, really means not good.”

“Are you crazy?”

Grimes said, “The term ‘exquisite’ or ‘superior’ actually is used to denote great work.”

Stack said, “Besides, email can be manufactured.”

This was some bullshit. “I can show it to you on my system.”

Grimes gave me the hand. “That won't be necessary.”

I said, “But I have to clear my name.”

Grimes said, “There's only one way to settle it. We will let our managing partner.”

Stack said, “He's a fair man.”

Grimes nodded. “A fair and equitable man who will make a fair and equitable decision.”

“Excuse me.”

It was Natasha. Grimes waved her in. She said, “I think you should take a look at this.”

I said, “At what?”

She handed the partners a printout, which they read. They exchanged glances and handed it to me.

It looked like my billing log. “You've got to be kidding.”

Stack said, “Thanks, Natasha.”

I said, “That's not mine.”
 

Natasha looked all haughty as she left.
 

Grimes said, “Like I said, the managing partner will take everything into account when he returns from vacation.”

“When is that?”

Grimes shrugged.

***

I walked out of there, went back to my office. It was a setup. Goddamn. Set me up.

“Rufus? Rufus Wang?”

Some young guy with a Gotham Law School backpack stood in my doorway. “Thanks for the work. I aced my crim law exam. And the essay? I'm definitely making law review.”

Law review? “Excuse me?”

“Daddy didn't tell you?”

“Daddy?”

He looked disappointed. “I guess he didn't.”

Gropius. “He was your daddy? Gropius? The partner?”

He laughed. “Yeah. He's my daddy.” He checked his watch. “Ooops. Cocktails! Gotta bounce.”

As he left, I couldn't contain my laughter.

There was only one person who would understand.

43

“CAN I HAVE
a latte and a slice of pie?”

Sif refused to make eye contact with me.

“We don't serve pie.”

“I distinctly thought that you did.”

“Nope.”

“I guess I'll have to go elsewhere to get. Humble pie, that is.”

She stopped, came from behind the counter, and gestured for me to sit at a table. I did, and she followed.

“Sif, I'm sorry for not giving you a chance to explain yourself.”

“It's not the first time it's happened.”

“What exactly did happen at Krueller?”

“You don't want to hear it.”

“Try me.”

She took in a deep breath and released. “During my first year, my mother was getting evicted from her apartment. She couldn't afford an attorney and I had no expertise in landlord-tenant law. The firm refused to provide an attorney, so I had to do research to get acquainted with the law.”