Illing Me Softly

Killing Me Softly, part 2.

The Women

This part occurs the next day after Sophia was served with the restraining order at her former domicile. She has spent the night at the Peninsula Hotel, a posh Chicago establishment. She awakened and went to work.

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Sophia arrived at work at Gravely Publishing. She took the elevator to the tenth floor and went to her office. Her executive assistant was waiting for her, as she was thirty minutes late to work. Jessica followed her into her office.

"Is it true?" Jess said.

Sophia jerked alert and looked at her friend and assistant.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's all over the office. You and Michael. You went to that gala Friday night."

Sophia sat down at her desk. "Yes, you know we did."

"What did you do the rest of the weekend??"

"I don't know what you mean," said Sophia.

"You did, didn't you? You went home with that thing, that sexual predator, and left Michael standing there. OH, CHRIST, YOU POOR, STUPID WOMAN!!"

She sagged into the chair to the left of Sophia's desk, and buried her face in her hands, and broke into tears.

Sophia was stunned and stared at her friend.

"How did you know?? I haven't told anyone or said anything. How did you find out? And who else knows??"

"EVERYONE KNOWS, YOU STUPID BITCH!!! The whole company knows, and it's only" she looked at her watch "ONLY 10:45."

Sophia paled and slumped in her chair.

Suddenly, her office door flew open; HER boss, Gwendolyn Harrelson, stormed into the office. She looked at the two women, back and forth, and blanched.

"OH, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, IT"S TRUE!!" she exclaimed.

.

Sophia staggered at the reaction from her boss and close friend. This situation was rapidly escalating.

Indignantly, Sophia bristled and said, "I think everyone is making way too much out of this."

"OH REALLY," said Gwen, smirking at her friend's naivete.

"Do you know who and what he is? How do you think all of Chicago and probably half the Midwest knows already??"

Sofia paled and looked down at her hands.

"What did Michael say?"

"He said we are through. He said he would destroy me as I had killed him. Just who does he think he is. He doesn't control me. He doesn't own me."

"HE'S YOUR HUSBAND, STUPID!!! ...... What did Michael do when you came home Sunday?"

She looked at her desk and started to sniffle.

"He sold my car. Said he didn't need it anymore because he didn't have a wife to drive it."

"OH MY GOD!" said Gwen.

Just then, the door slammed open, and in walked Stefani Jameson, Vice-President of Mortgages and Acquisitions for Chemical Bank. And another of Sophia's close friends. Angela, Sophia's secretary, followed her.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Barron, she just barged in."

"It's alright, Angela. Come on in, Stef," she said with some sarcasm.

"WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE??" Just then, Gwen's cell phone rang. "

"Hello??? .....Yes, Hank, I'm in her office right now. ....No. We have not heard from him yet. I'm just getting the dirty details now. ....YES, DEAR, I'll call as soon as I hear anything. .... Goodbye, dear."

"That was my husband. He wants to know if you have heard from Michael today."

"NO, I haven't talked to him since last night," said Sophia.

With that, she picked cell phone and hit speed dial #2. Her cell chirped twice and then said her service had been disconnected. She stared at the Nokia device like it was a scorpion.

"He cut off my phone," she whispered.

Gwen said, "OHH, this is not good. Not good at all."

Just then, Angela came in and said there was a young lady who needed to see her. "She said it was a matter of life and death. Something about your marriage."

It got frigid and quiet in Sophia's office. "Send her in, Angela."

A tall young lady with blonde hair, wearing a navy blue pencil skirt, ivory-colored blouse, three-inch heels, and a navy blue blazer, strode in with a small briefcase under her arm. She stepped to Sophia's desk and surveyed the assembled women. She finally settled on Sophia, looked her square in the eye, and said, "Are you Mrs. Sophia Barron, at least for now??"

Stephanie jumped on her. "Look here, princess. Who do you think you are?"

"Yes, I'm Mrs. Michael Barron. Do you have something for me?"

She had a horrible thought about what was coming.

"Congratulation, Cow, you've been served." She passed a large manilla envelope to Sophia, she snapped a photo and turned on her heel. She got to the door and turned to face the group.

"Seven years ago, my mother tore our family apart as you did. I hope you enjoyed it. Good day."

Sophia's head hit the desk with a thud, landing on the envelope she had received. Gwen rushed to her side and helped her to sit up. Sophia was hyperventilating, and she was having trouble drawing a breath. Stephanie pulled out her phone and pushed speed dial. She was connected to Michael's office.

"Chicago American Globe, Mr. Barron's office, may I help you?"

"I'm like to speak with Mr. Barron, please. This Mrs. Stephanie Jameson with Chemical Bank."

"May I say what this about, Ma'am?"

"It concerns his wife."

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, he is not accepting calls from his wife. He said to tell her to ...."

"JUST PUT HIM ON THE PHONE, BITCH!!!"

"Hold, please."

Soon, the connection clicked, and Micheal's voice emanated from the speaker.

"Well, Stephanie, the coven has convened around the bitch. I assume that Jessica and Gwendolyn are in attendance with the slut queen. .....What do you want?"

"Michael, you are being an ass. She is a basket case, and you're not helping. What do you think will happen?"

"Ask her what SHE thought would happen when she left on her 'weekend of wonderful sex'. Tell her to get a lawyer and talk to them. I will not speak to her until we sit down and speak to our children on Saturday. Goodbye, Stephanie." CLICK.

"Oh shit," said Gwen, "You're toast."

"Well," said Steph, "As I see it, your one chance is to crawl naked up State Street, go up to his twelve-floor office, spread yourself on his desk, and give him your butt hole. Oh, wait, you did that this weekend, didn't you, Stupid??"

Sophia's head hit the desk again. The resounding thunk resonated in the office, but no rushed to her aid.

Michael hung up the phone and punched the button for his son in New Jersey. Michael Junior was involved in a serious relationship with a fine young lady, and he hoped this would not affect it. But the talk needed to take place.

The phone rang three times, and his son picked up. "Dad, how you doing?"

"Not so good, son. How's Tara?"

"She's fine, dad; what's wrong? Is Mom o.k.? "

"She's fine, physically. I need to have you and your sister here for a family meeting on Saturday. Tara can come along; I will have two tickets at the counter on Friday; Janine will contact you with details. Don't ask any questions. Just come. It's Important."

"Dad, what's wrong? You're scaring me."

"Son, I haven't spoken to you like this for more than ten years, but I am doing so now. Now. Do as I am telling you to, and don't ask questions."

He hung up. He would not poison their minds against their mother; he would let them make up their own minds. He would trust their judgment.

The conversation with his daughter was basically the same, only a little more emotional. She said she would see him on Friday.

The rest of his day when quietly. He spoke with his attorney and talked with his P/I about the trace on Darron Wodson.

...............................................................................................................................

Back at Gravely Publishing, the women were assembled in a war council, trying to support their friend. But it wasn't easy. Sophia was babbling and crying.

"WHAT HAVE I DONE? WHAT HAVE I DONE?" She was inconsolable. She had no grasp on reality. Finally, Gwen took control.

"We need to suck it up and get on an equal footing." She got on her cell and called a friend.

"Hello, Carolyn? This is Gwen, Gwendolyn Harrelson? Yes, I was hoping you could represent a friend of mine in a divorce procedure. ... Her name is Sophia Barron. ....Yes, her husband is Michael Barron. ........ I beg your pardon?? WHAT??? ....Yes, I understand. THANKS, A LOT!!!"

"What was that all about?"

"She's already toxic. That was Carolyn Herrera. She's a shark, and she hates bastard husbands, almost as much as she hates cheating spouses. Then she heard Sophia's name; she already heard through the grapevine what happened. She said if she took this case, her husband would divorce her; they've got five children, are seriously Catholic, and both know Michael and Sophia. She also knows about the asshole."

Stefani said, "Let me try." She pulled out her cellphone and dialed a number."Yes, this Stefani Jameson. I need to talk to Brett Walker. ...Yes, about a divorce action. .....Hello, Brett? I need to speak to you about a divorce action ...... Oh, you have. Huh. Well, thanks for nothing."

"You really are bad news, sweetie. Shit, I don't know who else to talk to about this. He heard about what happened and said, 'You deserve whatever happens to you.' Also that he would not go up against Steve Dawson in this if his mother's life depended on it."

Sophia's head fell to her desk again but hit her arms this time.

...........................................................................................................................

So I got down to cases; I had some friends who can make some mischief for me. Nothing serious, and I didn't want them to get caught. Sugar in the gas tank. Paint balloons all over his pretty car. Once all that was fixed, they attacked the hood, sides, roof, and rear deck with an air grinder and a Roto-Zip tool. Then they proceeded to flatten all four tires and slash the sidewalls. Expensive Michelinns shot to shit.

This retribution would go on for the foreseeable future. Price was no object.

She had trouble getting a lawyer but finally landed a femi-nazi who agreed to take her case.

So it came down to the family conference.

End of part two