The door shut behind her, and I stood there in the middle of my office with tears coursing down my cheeks. I hadn’t wanted to listen to any of that garbage. I’d just wanted to know why she was doing such a horrible job as my assistant and why she’d stopped being my friend. Instead I’d gotten a pile of shit dumped on my head and my heart cracked in two.
I shoved the chairs back into position, ignoring the fact that the legs weren’t put back in the indentations of the carpet they always rested in. Making my way around the desk, I shook my head in disgust. Ruby was so full of shit. Bradley had done nothing but advance my career and my stature at the firm. We joined the country club together and played tennis every weekend with other couples. We ate out all the time and even talked about moving in together before the wedding. I’d held off for some stupid reason, but now I couldn’t remember why. Bradley was the only one who got my lifeplan and was totally on board with it. He’s just like me: organized, driven, smart. We both know what we want and we’re not afraid to go after it. Too bad for the rest of the world. If they don’t understand the value of planning and drive, screw them. I didn’t need anyone or anything but Bradley and the firm.
I ignored the physical pains that sliced through my chest at that thought.
The ring of my phone told me Ruby was calling in. I leaned over to the far corner of my desk, grabbing the handset, fully expecting to hear her apology. I planned to be gracious and act like the things she said hadn’t cut me to the bone. Then we could go on as before, but with her doing a better job. A tight smile took up residence on my face.
“Yes?” I said, cold pride filling my voice.
“Line three is for you. Someone from the courthouse.”
“Who is it, Ruby?” I asked, instantly irritated. She had a hell of a lot of nerve giving me one of her bullshit call transfers after our little discussion. She knew at a bare minimum I needed a name, a department, and case file reference. Jesus, what is her damn problem?
Ruby’s voice was so calm, so casual, it was as if we hadn’t just had a come-to-Jesus meeting two minutes before. “I don’t know who it is,” she said. “Someone from the marriage license division.”
“Oh.” I frowned, the wind going completely out of my sails. “Why would they be calling me now? My appointment to pick up the license isn’t until later this week. They never do things that fast or ahead of time.”
Ruby just breathed in her handset.
“Put them through,” I said, giving up on having a civil conversation with her.
I waited for the call to connect, my mind racing with questions. Bradley was in charge of arranging the catering, and I was in charge of the legalities and the band. Our guest list was mostly our top-value clients and fellow employees, so that meant there could be no skimping and no mistakes. If I didn’t get that license in time, we’d be totally screwed. Nothing could be rescheduled without losing a lot of money and causing a lot of headaches.
The connection clicked through. “Hello, this is Andy Marks. How may I help you?”
“Hi, Ms. Marks, this is Latisha. You the one who applied for a marriage license? Annnnndrea … uh … Marks. Sorry, I can’t really read your writing. You really should write neater on these forms.”
I ignored her scolding. Shuh, right. As if some minimum wage clerk down at the courthouse is going to give me lessons in filling out forms. Raise your hand if you went to law school. “Yes, that’s correct. That’s me.”
“And your middle name is Lynn and your social security number is 078-05-1120?”
“Yes, that’s also correct. Is there a problem?”
“Yeah. That’s why I’m calling. There’s a question on the form you’ve answered incorrectly, so I need you to come back and do another form and include your divorce decree with it. I can’t process it until it’s complete, and without that decree, it won’t work. The system won’t even accept it, so I’m not even going to try. And don’t ask me to change it for you, because that’s not how it works.”
“Wait … what?” My brain was misfiring, trying to put together her nonsensical words into a sentence that would mean something to me.
The woman sighed loudly. “Don’t play. Seriously, I don’t have time to play lawyer games today, okay? I got fifteen … no sixteen forms to process before I leave for the day, and if I don’t get it done the team leader will be all up in my business, know what I’m sayin’?”
“Yes, I do … but no, I’m not playing. I’m serious. I’ve never been married in my life.” A huge pit opened in my stomach, and that pit was filled with molten lava. This cannot be happening to me. Bradley will totally shit a hamster if there’s a glitch. He’s planned a bachelor’s golf party and everything, with fraternity brothers coming in from all over the world to attend.
“Are you sure you’re not married?” she asked, sounding doubtful.
“Positive,” I said, sincerely irritated with this jerk in the courthouse who obviously hadn’t gone anywhere after high school except maybe to McDonalds’ hamburger university. “Believe me, I’d know if I was married to someone other than my fiancé.”