A flash story as promised, something in direct opposition of the longer tales I had been posting to date.
More flash stories will follow in the days to come.
Take what you will from them and leave your votes and comments behind.
-V
*****
Ken tapped the free end of his pen lightly against the dwindling stack of papers before him; the worn cuff of his sport coat stained slightly from pages he had spent the last hour leaning against. While Audrey's attorney continued to ramble on, he took a despondent look around the conference table.
Edward Sokaloff's balding head reflected the cool white fluorescent light like some fat, lawyerly looking lighthouse. The thin crown of graying brown hair rode from one temple, around the back of his thick skull, and ended at the opposite temple. His skin had the Florida tan going for it; no sign of flakes or burns. Made Ken realize that his attorney had most likely spent some of his retainer and additional fees on another "important business conference" to Tampa late last month. Unlike his own clothing, his lawyer's suit definitely did not come from the Men's Warehouse and from the look of it, his watch wasn't a Timex either.
Ms. Pengrass, Sokaloff's legal assistant, sat next to her boss, the flinty edge of her gaze fixed unerringly on Ken's soon to be ex's lawyer. Ken had never heard her first name, assuming that until she amassed enough billable hours, Edward Sokaloff wouldn't give her one. Easily fifteen years his attorney's junior, she had a longness to her face and odd distending of her fingers that made Ken think of her as some sort of horse. She never smiled, never laughed, never showed any emotion. It was like having a wood carving in some fun house mirror sitting at the table.
Feeling the back of his shirt slowly sticking to his sweating shoulders, Ken flexed his muscles and tried to shift his weight. It felt faintly like wet paper sliding away, but he eventually was able to relieve some of the uncomfortable sensation. It was hot in here, real hot. Did Audrey's attorney do that on purpose?
Lenny Lionel, now there was a man who just oozed "ambulance chaser". So many documents had been sent to Ken's apartment over the last 2 years that he could have papered the 750 square foot shit box and still had enough to warm the homeless in their burn barrels. His hair was dark brown and oiled back, most likely with the grease of dozen slicked palms. His too perfect mouth of 70 or so teeth and that thin moustache that yelled out, "Hey, look at how macho I am!" completed the picture. Bastard wasn't sweating in the afternoon heat. Most likely because of the ice water in his veins.
His flicking gaze settled on the last person at the table. Audrey Carrington nee Halwood. That bitch. After today, no longer the need for the Carrington or the nee anymore - just Audrey Halwood.
For all of his disgust, he had to admit, she was a good looking woman. A few inches shorter than him, honey brown hair, perfect features, button nose, nice shape. He should know, he'd been with her for 11 years. Eight of them married.
Five and half of those happy.
She had her eyes down at this time, looking over the same papers in front of her. But he had caught her a few time looking longingly at him, trying to catch his gaze. All Ken had to do was keep his eyes fixed on the blinds covering the window behind her and make believe she wasn't there.
Harder to do that he thought.
His attention was snapped back at a lull in Lenny's long winded diatribe; the silence punctuated only by the labored breathing of the pea soup that was supposed to be air in the room and the faint clicking of Ken's pen. Tap, tap, tap.
"Totally agree with you, Mr. Lionel," Sokaloff interjected, hoping to keep the other smug fucker from going on and on and on. "But at this time, all other avenues have been exhausted and it is time to have these two hurting people sign off on the Stipulation and let them go on their way." Thank you, Ed. That alone was worth another trip to some Floridian golf course.
Lenny's grin was fixed under his Magnum PI 'stache, but Ken could feel that the chatty fucker wanted to keep talking and was bothered that his speech on Audrey's behalf was most likely interrupted on page 46 out of 73. "I understand, Mr. Sokaloff. However, Mrs. Carrington was hoping to have Mr. Carrington agree to another ten sessions of counseling with Dr. Aboff."
"The Carringtons have already had 23 sessions with Dr. Aboff, eight more than originally required and from the counselor's reports, he doesn't see any reconciliation as a possibility at this time."