Cafe Lawyer Ch. 01

We watched "Breakfast at Tiffany's" with Audrey Hepburn; I still find it hard to believe that Truman Capote wrote the thing. I went to bed at eleven and slept the whole night through for the first time in years.

..... .....

The next morning, I groaned as the alarm clock screeched its 'good morning' call and when I reached to punch it off, I knocked it onto the floor and beneath the bed. I covered my head with my pillow, wishing the world would just go away. Why I felt hung over, I had no idea for I had only drunk two glasses of wine.

Rolling out of bed and onto the floor, I reached for the still screaming clock and finally turned it off. I looked around the room. As dark as it still was, I knew I had slept alone and the wild ideas floating through my mind were the result of dreams that had given life to my desires.

Walking into the bathroom, I closely looked at my reflection for the first time since my separation, running two fingers across my rough, auburn colored beard. I shaved three times, both up and down and across until my face was as smooth as glass and then stepped into the shower.

I chose a dark lavender shirt and matching tie to wear and went into the kitchen. Carol had waited breakfast for me and as she poured my morning coffee, she slowly ran her hand across my face, leaving it there just long enough to be more than just a momentary hesitation.

"Good morning, sleepy head," she greeted me.

"Morning..." I watched as she deftly cracked two eggs into the skillet and began frying up two sunny-side-up eggs to go with the hash browns she had keeping warm in the oven.

"You didn't have much else in the house..." she started to say.

"No, this is fine," I replied, not used to domesticity so early in the morning. For the last several years, breakfast at the café had been my daily routine and having to eat before leaving the house was an almost forgotten experience for me.

I had two appointments to meet and left after breakfast with Carol. By the time I reached the café, I was happy, finding myself in what could be considered a 'normal' relationship for the first time since I found out Susan was cheating on me.

My first meeting that morning was with a woman who had driven around the crossing gates and had been hit by a train. It was her contention that the railroad was at fault since...

I had stopped listening at that point and tried to explain that she had no case against the railroad. In fact, she would be lucky if the railroad didn't sue her for damage to the front of the locomotive. She angrily left, calling me useless. It wasn't the first time; Susan having been the first to acknowledge some perceived shortcoming on my part.

I had lunch, a salad this time, dressing on the side. With Carol living in the house, I had gotten away from my routine of daily exercise.

"James Martin?"

"Yes. Mr. Turling?"

"Yes." Turling looked around, somewhat unsure considering we were meeting in a café dining room.

"Please, sit down. You said you wanted to speak about having a new will drawn up."

"That's right. I want to cut my wife out of my will."

"That may not be as easy as it sounds. Do you have a pre-nup in effect? How are your accounts held? Your property?"

An hour later, we had straightened out the basics for what he wanted. He had stupidly married a woman more interested in his business partner than him. I had asked him why not just get a divorce but he was vague, giving an answer that really made no sense to me but he was the client. I promised to have the new paperwork ready for him in two days. He left me with a check and walked out just in time for my afternoon piece of Dutch apple pie.

..... .....

Several weeks had gone by until one evening, I left to return home and walked out to my car in the back of the café.

Waiting for me were Joseph and two of his thuggish friends; I didn't think he'd have enough to take me on his own.

"I want money," he said as his two friends joined rank next to him. Ah crap, I thought, hoping it was all a bad dream.

"Look, I told Susan there was no more money and there isn't. Why don't you take your friends and go home and screw that slut of an ex-wife of mine and leave me alone."

"I guess you didn't hear me too good. I said I want..."

I pulled my automatic clipped to my belt and quietly said, "I told you not to come around again, you bastard." A little louder, I said, practically screaming, "Leave now. I feel I am in danger of my life. I am going to shoot." I shot and shot and shot. I know I missed at least a couple of times for the window of a car behind them blew out and the alarm went off but I hit them enough times that they all went down. I guess they weren't expecting that. Joseph never had too much respect for husbands. Too bad.

I put my gun back into my belt clip and waited for the police to arrive, finally noticing the crowd of people from the café's kitchen standing behind me. Juan walked out to me and led me back into the building, finally giving me some hot tea to drink.

"Don't worry, we saw it all," he said, giving me a smile. "Now, quick, tell me what happened." I looked at him and smiled. I guess he could date my aunt if he wanted.

Quickly speaking in Spanish, he explained to the others exactly what to tell the police and then told me what he had said. Strangely enough, a gun appeared and was put into Joseph's hand. I didn't ask.

The police and EMTs finally arrived. It was touch and go for one of them. I had nicked his femoral artery and he was bleeding pretty good. I absent-mindedly considered how much work would be necessary to wash down the parking lot. Joseph... I somehow put two into his lower abdomen and one into his crotch and the last 'banger, just one to the stomach. Of course, I had missed several times, putting expensive holes into three cars near the fence.

"I understand you knew the deceased," the first detective said.

"Yes, he's my whore of an ex-wife's boyfriend. They came around a couple weeks back asking for money. She's pregnant."

"No chance it's yours?" asked the second one.

"It's been more than two years. She used to be a high school English teacher over at North but it turned out she like working with the basketball team more. She had been doing it for about five years, more or less, from before we were married. I was stupid. She got caught. Someone couldn't keep their mouth shut, I guess, and she lost her job. He thought threatening me for money would work."

The police took my gun, took my statement again, took everyone else's and finally left. I was still standing there, holding my cup of tea in slightly shaking hands. Juan came up to me and again said not to worry, that they saw the whole thing. I guess they were Superman's cousins, able to see through walls.

..... .....

The next morning, Carol was wearing jeans and a thin cotton shirt, the sleeves rolled back to reveal her tanned arms. I felt myself develop a physical response to her in quite an intense way. I had tried not to but I couldn't deny the way my body was reacting to her now. Maybe, it was just a reaction to the night before.

It was all too easy imagining touching her skin, running my fingers along her skin in a caress, knowing that I was going to reach for her and kiss her, hoping that when I held her she would understand the effect she was having on me.

I closed my eyes, trying to blot out the image of her sensuous body and the fantasy that it had given rise to but the act simply intensified what I was feeling.

"I made breakfast," she said, softly.

The words seemed to float on the silence of the room and I tried to use them to bring me back to a normal something. I turned my back to her as she poured my morning coffee but then I turned back and took hold of her arms before she could stop me and she trembled, not from any hurt but from being so close to me.

"We can't," Carol said, kissing me.

"I know," I answered, kissing her back, running my hands across her back.

"We shouldn't," she said, unbuckling my belt and pushing down my pants.

"Yes, we should," I answered, kicking away my pants. I picked her up and took her to my bedroom, kissing her neck from her collar to her ear. Then I kissed her on the lips, nibbling and delving into her mouth with my tongue, hoping to send a much wanted desire throughout her body.

Lifting my head, I looked down at her, taking in the shape of her face, looking into her soul. It seemed like she knew what to do and, taking in a deep breath, she cried, desperately, "Jimmy, make love to me."

I pulled her more tightly into my arms, forcing her back against the bedroom wall. She seemed to go weak from my kiss, grabbing my arms for support, her breasts flattening against my chest, her body limp. My thighs and pelvis thrust against her, pushing harder.

Suddenly, Carol bit me, her teeth sinking into my shoulder. I would have jumped from the pain but my need for her overwhelmed everything else.

She tried to keep her eyes open, I could tell, but had to close them as I kissed her, again. It seemed as if she was pulling herself closer to me, struggling to get as near as possible.

My hands came to her sides, just far enough that my hands caressed the sides of her breasts and I could feel them tighten under my touch. I groaned. "You know," I said, trying to be a gentleman, "where this is going, don't you?" I took a deep breath. "I can't take it if you change your mind."

"Don't you want me?" she asked, almost pleadingly. "Please, Jimmy," she whispered, pushing against my hips.

I lowered my head to kiss her again. I was afraid she would somehow change her mind and didn't know if I could live with that.

I had never tasted anything as addictive as her warm lips. I leaned into her, my body molding itself to her curves as my hands explored further. She gasped as my hand slid beneath her blouse. I paused and held my breath and then pushed aside the fabric when she relaxed again. The sight I uncovered took my breath away. I covered the mounds of her breasts above her lacy white bra with kisses and I couldn't help smiling as I heard a gasp of pleasure from her lips as my tongue sneaked beneath the edge of the lace.

I tasted each inch of skin as it was uncovered and then I realized that I was still dressed, myself. I laid her on the bed and within moments, my clothes were scattered on the bedroom floor. I could see her eyes widen as she looked at my arousal. "Touch me," I said, hoping she would.

Carol did.

Her hand moved gently at first, touching me, her fingers stopping briefly at my curly dark red hair and then down. She moved her hand shyly, moving slowly, giving a low moan as she did.

I moved onto the bed and lay beside her. My hand cupped her breast and my thumb touched her taut nipple growing rigid. My hand stroked her leg and then edged upward toward her moist, exquisite heat.

"You know what?" she whispered.

"What?" I asked, still moving my fingers over her almost perfect flesh.

"You don't need any practice, do you?" she asked.

I thought about my disastrous marriage to Susan and looked at the woman before me. "Not with someone that I care for," I said, quietly, banishing the last thoughts of my adulterous ex-wife to hell.

Her kisses didn't stop. "Does that bother you?" I said.

"Not really," Carol said, surprisingly. "Well, just a little. Does it bother you that I'm not really that experienced?"

"I'm looking forward to teaching you everything you'll ever need to know."

"Is this what you do? Have affairs with your clients?"

"Not until you," I honestly answered, "and I'd like you to be the last woman I'm ever with."

Her kiss was sweet, tender then hungry. She sighed. "You still believe in marriage?"

I thought about it. "With the right woman... are you the right woman?"

"I could be... if you want me. We can have a family."

"That's what you want?"

"That's all that I ever wanted. Can I stay in your room?"

"Yes." I knew the commitment I was making and didn't hesitate. Her legs opened enough and I slid between them. "Since I met you, I haven't really thought of anything else except making love with you." I took full advantage, tasting her, teasing her, tempting her.

She laced her fingers behind my neck and kissed me back. What had seemed so complicated now seemed so simple. I wanted her. I needed her. I liked her. I never felt something quite so wonderful.

I tried to make magic, kissing her neck, her ear, her eyelids. My lips came away, damp, tasting of salt. I savored the texture of her nipples, the tautness fitting between my lips, my teeth teasing them lightly. I moved one hand over her stomach, wondering when I would put a baby there. I became ever more erect at the thought and could hardly wait to lay claim to this woman. My hands began a slow, reverent journey across her body, and with a slight movement, I was on my back and she was on top. I enjoyed the feeling of her touching me with her body.

One hand held her waist while the other explored her smooth back, memorizing where the flatness stopped and the roundness began. I could feel her quiver in anticipation, what I hoped was anticipation, what I knew was anticipation.

Gently moving her to the side, my hand skirted her hips and touched her curly hair. She moaned. I let my hand linger between Carol's thighs for a moment before moving on and then my fingers slipped inside her.

"Are you trying to torture me?" she asked, her hands' fingers grasping me, trying to pull me closer.

"Yes," I said, "I want you to want me as much as I want you."

"I want you," she moaned, "oh, God, how I want you." She moved slightly. "Jimmy, please make love to me."

I moved and slid inside her warmth and felt her tighten around me and then we began to move in an ancient rhythm and I thought I heard her call my name and then I was lost as I exploded deep within her.

..... .....

The next morning, my Aunt Claudine didn't even raise an eyebrow to the new sleeping arrangements. I guess it was her upbringing, having lived all those years in France. It always struck me strange, a bunch of Italians who had moved to France following the War. It takes all kinds to make the world go round, I guess. Me, I'm an American, through and through.

The three of us drove together to the café and after I walked to the back, Carol joined me for breakfast.

"I spoke to your aunt," she began, "and we decided you need to eat more healthily. You're getting a lot of empty carbs in the morning and that's not good for you. I changed your order..."

"Oh?" I asked, surprised where this was leading but realized that I had already decided to start ordering from the left side of the breakfast menu, just not so soon.

"Yes... we're going to start with oatmeal and strawberries, some fresh fruit salad, maybe some cottage cheese..." Her voice dropped off, I guess wondering if she had overstepped some unseen boundary.

"I wonder if you would mind me working here. Staying at the house all day, alone, is driving me crazy and I don't think anything could happen to me, here in the restaurant."

I looked at her, wondering in my own mind whether that would be a good idea or not, especially considering what had happened to me in the parking lot. But, she had a point. Truth be told, I'd rather have her where I could see her than wandering around the mall or something. It was then I felt that overwhelming need to be with her that echoed how I felt with Susan when we had first met, so long ago.

Obviously, she had talked to my aunt beforehand and soon was filling in for the other girls during breaks, walking around filling coffee cups and iced tea glasses and eventually, days off.

Lunch that day was a salad and I imagined the few pounds I had gained in my two-year misery start to disappear as I put another forkful into my mouth. I decided to hit the treadmill at the house to hurry things along and speculated whether buying some decent weights would help out.

One morning, while we were having breakfast before she started, she quietly looked at me and then asked, "Jim, are we a couple? Or, just friends with..."

I gazed at her. "I never thought I'd say this to another woman," I said, almost slowly in a dream, "but, I'm in love with you and hope that you feel the same way, too."

Her smile shone across the table like morning daylight and my oatmeal tasted so much better that day.

A month had gone by and I had expected more fallout from the shooting in the parking lot but evidently the police and the district attorney were happy to put "paid" to them. I wondered what Susan was going to do now... no, not really. If I never saw her again, it was too soon. The betrayal still hurt, even after all this time and I wondered if I would ever get over it. Somehow, I believed that the pain, while diminishing each day, would still live in the back of my heart 'till the day I died.

Carol's paperwork moved through the court system and I worked on other matters. I began to cross off the days on the calendar while the six months were passing by; I was that in love with her.

..... .....

The lawsuit again the drunken basketball player had finally settled. Even I was amazed at how easily the millions came in from both him and the bar he was drinking at. I guess they were afraid of a jury verdict when my client would have been rolled in on his wheelchair. Works for me, I thought, as I mentally banked the two point two million I was putting into my own account. I was just glad the case wasn't a wrongful death one.

..... .....

Late Friday night, I took Carol to the Charthouse in Redondo Beach. I had reserved the corner window table that looked north toward Malibu's lights. A long time past, I had taken Susan there, when I had proposed to her and I decided it was time to make new memories there that wouldn't haunt me each lonely night of my life. I liked the restaurant too much to keep it only a memory.

Carol ordered the slow roasted Prime Rib while I had the Mahi. Putting a spoonful of caviar onto the water cracker from the salad bar, I wondered if it was the right time to ask her or not. The ring was burning a hole in my pocket and I subconsciously touched the box every few moments, reassuring myself it was still there.

"Carol," I started to say, reaching across the table to hold her hand.

"Jim, you look so serious."

"Are you happy?" I asked, my fingers tightening their grip around hers as the shadows danced across the table from the small candle between us.

"Yes... why do you ask? Is something wrong? Have I done something wrong?"

"Oh, God, no... I, uh... Carol, will you marry me?"