Legally Obligated (2 page)

Though she tried to focus on answering her phone, her fumbling fingers wouldn’t obey and the call went into voicemail. Noticing that the number was from home, she decided to deal with breaking the news about her job later ... if at all. Right now she needed time to figure out what the next step was, and she didn’t want to deal with the inevitable questions from family and friends.

Returning her attention to Nick and the others, Raisa tried to focus on the conversation but began to find the angst-ridden concerns expressed by her coworkers depressing. Noelie continue her diatribe against the company, vowing to file a complaint with the labor board for unfair dismissal.

Their incessantly smiling server arrived with their meals and the Margarita pitcher. Hungrier than she had realized, Raisa wolfed down her crab salad and sipped a couple of Margaritas a little too generously. Unused to the potent one hundred proof tequila, she began to feel oddly detached yet buzzed at the same time.

Strident masculine laughter drew her attention to the table nearby. Sharing a secret joke with his colleagues, the man’s casual yet commanding stance reeked of the arrogance power and money bestowed, an attitude that had been clearly demonstrated by Danleigh’s upper echelon.

For all Raisa knew, the man could have been one of the executives that had signed her termination letter. She had not yet met many of the company’s senior staff so it was a possibility. She found herself growing agitated, as much from the potent drinks as her overactive imagination, yet her eyes continued to linger
on the man’s hypnotic blue eyes and the strong, chiseled lines of his face. A tiny raised scar on his left temple intrigued her, it’s irregular shape reminding her almost of some type of tribal marking. She took another sip of her drink, her tip trailing along the salted rim.

One of the man’s companions, pewter-haired and distinguished, proceeded to remove a document from his briefcase while the other man, an attractive, if severe-looking blond in his thirties, excused himself to make a call. Taking advantage of his colleagues’ distractions, the man directed his attention to Raisa.

Blushing, and by now tipsy, Raisa looked away, but not before noticing the man’s dazzling smile. She peeked at him from the corner of her eye, his magnetism drawing her to him with the intensity of a directed laser beam. Between the heat of his gaze and the warmth infusing her body from the Margarita, she suddenly felt faint.

Clumsily scraping her chair back, Raisa rose unsteadily to her feet, her awkwardness augmented by the man’s unwavering attention. She was surprised that no one else had noticed her condition, but perhaps that was a good thing.

“You okay, honey?” Noelie asked with concern.

“I’m fine,” Raisa said, forcing herself to articulate her words. Suddenly, her tongue refused to cooperate, and she also felt on the verge of an intense fit of giggles. “Just going to the ladies room.”

Fearing Noelie might want to accompany her, Raisa quickly stepped away from the table. By now the bar was so packed she had to weave through a forest of patrons, which slowed her already unsteady progress on heels that became an impediment with each faltering step. Aware of how her silky blouse and short black skirt clung to her shapely, well-endowed body, she didn’t need to glance toward the man’s table to know that he was slowly devouring her with his eyes.

By the time Raisa reached the ladies room her shaking legs could barely support her. She splashed her face with water and sat in an adjacent lounge area for a few moments until she felt her lightheadedness pass. The arrival of a pair of chattering women shattered the soothing quiet, and reluctantly, she rose to return to the table.

As soon as she opened the door, Noelie appeared.

“You okay?” she asked. “We were getting worried. You’ve been gone a while.”

“Just feeling really exhausted,” Raisa said, which was partially true as a headache began to throb at her temples. “I think I’ll just head home now.”

“You okay to drive?  You look a little pale. Maybe you should wait a while or just take a cab.”

“I really don’t want to stay,” Raisa said. “I’m feeling upset enough as it is and cab fare isn’t in my budget. I’ll just say my goodbyes and head out.”

Noelie smiled and put her arm around Raisa’s shoulder as they headed back to the table.

“I get you,” she said. “I think we’re all going to feel it tomorrow when we start sending out resumes.”

By the time they returned to the table Raisa saw that a few people had already gone, including the man and his colleagues. She felt an inexplicable sense of disappointment, and wondered why, since it had not been the first time she had received such attention. She shrugged it off and gave Nick and the others a parting hug. Though they all exchanged promises to keep in touch, Raisa guessed that Noelie and Nick would be the only ones that would make the effort. She and her college friends had uttered the same words after graduation, and now she kept in touch with only two. The channels of her life had been abruptly changed, and for better or worse, she faced a new set of challenges.

“Let me walk you to your car,” Noelie said, as Raisa slipped on her jacket and collected her purse.

They threaded through the still bustling bar, even though it was well past nine. Outside, the rain had given way to a chilly, foggy drizzle that cloaked the streets like an alien mist. Noelie gave Raisa a final hug before she slipped into the car.

“Take care of yourself, Raisa,” she said. “You know how to reach me if you need a mental hug.”

Raisa kissed Noelie on the cheek and watched her hurry back to the bar from the rain streaked side mirror.

“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.