Acquisition

"What is all of this?" Parker demanded.

"What do you mean?" Donald asked. "Is this your first divorce?"

"No, this is not my first divorce," Parker spat, face red with anger.

"We are here representing Mr. MacElroy," Donald said. "Surely you expected him to have legal representation?"

"Yes, but..." Parker said.

"Stacy and Tracy Vickers," Donald indicated the two women to his right, "are forensic accountants they have tabulated the incomes and expenditures that both parties brought into the marriage and have paid out during the course of the marriage, including the two Caribbean accounts Ms. Kaitlin Monroe and Mrs. Patricia Monroe opened five months after the marriage."

Patricia gasped. Tommy smirked.

"They have also prepared projected earnings that Ms. Monroe can expect to earn for the next three years, assuming she manages to pass the BAR," Donald continued as the twin brunettes took thick folders of pages from their briefcases.

"I'll be passing..." Kaitlin snapped, glaring at the man.

"Ms. Leeanne Dumas is a computer forensics expert and can testify to the validity of the video that Mr. MacElroy shot, proving adultery on the part of Ms. Monroe," Donald went on, pointing to a woman that looked young enough to be in her first year of high school.

When Leeanne smiled, she even had a mouthful of braces.

Patricia shot a look at her daughter; this was the first she was hearing about adultery. Kaitlin flinched but did not meet her mother's gaze.

"This is my paralegal, Rebecca Montoyez," Donald indicated the fourth woman; she has assisted me with the legal precedence and I do believe we may even be setting new precedence here, and of course, you know Ethel Youngblood, my Administrative Assistant."

"And them?" Parker indicated the two men that stood next to the television cart.

"Ben Scholtz and Trevor Williams, our IT guys; they'll be displaying our evidence. They are also recording the proceedings here today," Donald said and the two men bowed slightly.

"Fine, fine, let's get started, Parker snapped, clearly annoyed.

"Wow, at our office, Ethel would have asked if anyone wanted anything to drink, any cookies or other refreshments, but I suppose, since you're still just getting started..." Donald quipped.

"Debbie?" Parker asked, face mottled with barely suppressed rage.

Debbie looked at him, confused, and then realized what he was requesting.

Kaitlin looked across the table at her husband. He looked good, relaxed. Donald Pellichet's paralegal must have said something amusing; Kaitlin felt a surge of rage well up as Tommy smiled and leaned close to the attractive Latin woman to whisper a response.

Kaitlin had spent all morning readying herself, even wearing the blouse he'd bought for her their previous Valentine's Day. If he had noticed, he gave no indication.

Kaitlin fixed Ms. Montoyez with a deadly glare; Tommy MacElroy was hers to do with as she pleased. And it certainly did not please Kaitlin Monroe to see Tommy speaking with another woman.

A few minutes later, Parker decided that Ms. Dees would be receiving a thirty cent an hour raise; she had enlisted Ms. DeSalvo, Johnson, Johnson & Lambert's newest associates to assist her.

"Now, if we may..." Parker said through gritted teeth as Donald leisurely stirred his green tea.

"Before we begin, my client would like to request that all parties not directly involved in the proceedings be excused," Donald said, looking directly at Patricia Monroe.

"I don't think that'll be necessary," Parker smirked, believing that he had won the first skirmish.

Donald held his face passive, watching Kaitlin squirm.

Forty five minutes later, Debbie Dees wanted desperately to take a break; her head hurt from all the accounting jargon and she was exhausted from the scrambling to make copies of all the papers the legal team kept pushing their way.

The computer jargon likewise confused Debbie but she dutifully forged on as Leeanne explained the steps she'd taken to verify that the video they were about to see had actually been obtained by Thomas MacElroy's cellular telephone's built in video recorder, how she matched the audio of the file with the video.

"So, even though the actual file is only forty eight seconds in length, because of the high definition resolution, it does take up nine point two gigabytes," she concluded. Also, there was audio of music from an extraneous site and we have verified with a Ms. Angela Brandt that the music was coming from her apartment which is the apartment directly overhead."

Leeanne slid two discs in clear plastic covers to Parker.

"Here is a copy for your records and a copy for your client; I have signed a statement that these were taken from the original recording and has not been altered in any way. Below my signature is the signature of Officer Mike Stevens of the Bender Police Department stating that he did witness me transferring information from one medium to the other without any file manipulation," the woman said,

Sliding a paper with Richards, Pellichet, and Jones logo at the top of the page.

"Do you require any further authentication?" Donald asked, noticing Kaitlin's obvious distress.

"No, just show the damned video," Parker sighed, close to calling for a break; his bladder was nearly bursting.

"Mom, please, please go wait outside, huh?" Kaitlin begged.

"There a problem?" Parker asked.

"I will not..." Patricia snarled at Tommy.

"Whatever they want, give it to them," Kaitlin said and bolted from the room before Donald could press 'play' on the remote control of the television.

"What..." Parker said.

Tommy felt a very brief urge to get to his feet and check on his wife. Nine years of caring for her could not just be completely shut off.

"Well then, I think we're done here," Donald smiled at the still gaping Parker. "Your client has agreed to all of our demands."

"What on God's earth?" Patricia snarled. "Show us; I want to see what's on that damned video."

"I will need to speak with my client," Parker snarled, getting to his feet.

"Why don't we take a fifteen minute break?" Donald smiled magnanimously. "I'm sure some of us could use the potty by now, Ben, Leeanne, I know you two are just dying for a smoke, huh?"

"Fine' we'll be back here in fifteen," Parker snapped.

It galled Parker Johnson; this was his office building, his conference room, and this flunky, this black man that was inferior to him in every way, was besting him. Worse yet, Donald Pellichet was making him look incompetent in front of his staff.

Debbie did not even wait for Parker to leave the room; she dashed for the ladies' room. Frances entered the room two seconds behind Debbie.

"Oh my God!" Frances exclaimed in a whisper. "I mean, God! I knew Dr. Pellichet was smart, but God!"

In the mens room, Parker sighed as he emptied his aching bladder. He wondered where Kaitlin had run off to; she had not been in the Interns' office or in the lobby.

"I can't use those," Tommy MacElroy said pleasantly as he pushed open the door to a stall.

"What?" Parker asked.

"Those urinal? Can't use them," Tommy said and locked the door of the stall.

"What? Why not?" Parker asked, zipping up.

Yeah, after straining my back on the job, doctor doesn't want me lifting anything heavy," Tommy said.

Tommy smiled as he heard Parker actually chuckle. Then he let himself feel the sadness, feel the loss. He'd recognized the blouse; it was a red silk blouse that did display Kaitlin's massive breasts very nicely. It also made her blonde hair really stand out and gave definition to her ice blue eyes.

But today, it seemed to really draw attention to how sad and mottled and bloated Kaitlin Monroe looked. Her blonde hair looked as if it had not been washed or brushed in days. Her eyes looked hateful, even in their puffy state.

Yes, her massive breasts did look magnificent in her blouse, but it also drew attention to her distended belly; for a brief moment Tommy had wondered if Kaitlin might be pregnant.

"You all right in there?" Donald's voice boomed out.

"Yeah," Tommy sighed.

"Told you before, I just absolutely hate doing divorces," Donald sighed heavily. "God, even when you win, nobody wins."

In the third stall in the women's room, Kaitlin stared blankly at the closed door.

This was real. It was really happening. Her Tommy had really left her and had really filed for divorce. And now, in front of her mother and her boss, Kaitlin did wonder briefly when Parker or Brandon planned to approach her with a job offer; they'd already hired Flat Frances, in front of her boss, Tommy really was going to show the video of her having sex with Jack and with Jeffrey.

Tommy never was good enough; he had been a pleasant enough diversion, a cute and willing pet for Kaitlin to fuck while she waited for her true lover to take her for himself. But her beloved father had been killed before he could take her.

Chad and Jeffrey had filled in, had been willing to do their late father's duties.

Jack had been a necessity; he'd arrested Hillary as the girl bought some great Jamaican weed. In exchange for not bringing her in, Kaitlin and Hillary agreed to fuck him.

It was supposed to be a one-time thing but Jack didn't seem to understand that. And Jack's hatred of Tommy was also fuel for Jack. He loved fucking Kaitlin, especially in her ass, something she would never let Tommy do.

Tommy was supposed to be a pet, a servant, willingly paying her bills until such time that it became convenient for Kaitlin to discard him.

But Tommy was not making it convenient. Her pet was actually fighting back; with very sharp teeth.

"Kai... Ms. Monroe? You in there?" Flat Frances' voice asked. "Mr. Johnson says they're waiting for you."

"No, it's over," Kaitlin said flatly.

She flushed, even though she'd not done anything, and opened the stall door.

The brightly lighted bathroom had floor to ceiling mirrors behind the sinks. For a brief moment, Kaitlin wondered who the morbidly obese woman with the scraggly blonde hair and puffy mottled face was.

She staggered; blackness threatening and Frances gripped her hand tightly.

"Ms. Monroe, you all right?" Frances asked, concerned. "You need help?"

"Oh my God," Kaitlin gasped and looked again at the mirrored wall.

Frances let go of Kaitlin's hand and stepped back a few feet; Kaitlin looked as if she was about to be ill.

Kaitlin wobbled unsteadily for a moment, then swayed over to a sinks. She splashed some cold water into her face, and then remembered all the care she'd taken that morning on her make-up.

"Oh, who in the fuck am I kidding?" she snarled at the blotchy reflection.

"Excuse me?" Frances squeaked.

"Tell Parker it's over," Kaitlin sighed. "Give Tommy whatever he's asking for."

In Conference Room C, Parker glared angrily toward Donald Pellichet, and then relaxed as Frances entered the room.

"Women's room," Frances whispered to Parker. "Says give them whatever they're asking for."

"Uh, Mr. Johnson?" Donald glibly said. "Uh, there going to be any more delays? I have another mediation at one, you know."

"I'll be right back," Parker snapped and left the room.

In the restroom, Kaitlin looked up when the door suddenly flung open and Parker Johnson stomped in.

"What in the hell is going on?" he snarled hatefully at the piggish woman.

"That video, you can't let my Momma see it," Kaitlin cried out. "It'll kill her!"

"I'm sure the sight of her precious little girl getting screwed isn't going to..." Parker spat.

"But it's not just me," Kaitlin began sobbing.

It was now all too real and all too overwhelming.

"What? Are you also sacrificing farm animals? What..." Parker said, angry.

All this time, the woman could have divulged what was on this video; obviously she had known from the start that there was damning information. Time after time, he had sat down and gone over this proceedings and Kaitlin had been tight-lipped about the whole thing.

"It's me and Jack and my brothers and sister," Kaitlin choked out, turned, and barely avoided spraying Parker with the contents of her stomach as she vomited into a sink.

"Hey!" Cindy St. George complained as she opened the door of the restroom and saw Parker standing in the room.

"Don't worry about it; I'm just leaving," Parker snapped.

Parker fought down the bile in his stomach, looked hard at Kaitlin, and then strode out of the bathroom.

"You okay?" Cindy asked Kaitlin. "You don't look so good."

"What the..." Kaitlin started, then stopped and began to sob.

"No, no I'm not okay," she admitted to the attractive girl.

Kaitlin fought down her revulsion at the stench of cigarettes on Cindy St. George as the girl hugged her consolingly. She also wished she could remember the girl's name. The girl greeted her every morning with a cheerful 'good morning' and bade her good evening every evening with a cheerful voice.

"Seriously, even the most fucked up day? It's only twenty four hours long," Cindy said, patting her on her back. "So, just get through the next hour, all right? Then get through the next one after that."

"Sorry, about to pee on myself," Cindy apologized, released Kaitlin and dashed into a stall.

"Thank you," Kaitlin mumbled, again splashed cold water into her face, grabbed her purse and left the restroom.

Chapter 10

"Thank that really killed me, I mean, really killed any chance of us ever getting back together," Tommy sighed to Donald as they waited on the funds to be wired from the off-shore accounts.

Donald said nothing; he'd been through enough of these divorces to know, even after all the papers had been signed, the newly divorced client usually needed to talk.

"I mean, God, excuse my language but..." Tommy lowered his voice. "I been after her for years let me tap that ass of hers. Think she ever even let me stick a finger up there? Fuck no. And blow jobs? One or two licks and she's flopping on that fat ass telling me it's my turn."

"Typical Monroe," Donald smiled tightly. "All about them."

"Here you are, sir," Heidi Moek, the branch manager of the First Union Bank in Bender, Louisiana said pleasantly as she printed out the confirmation of funds transfers.

"Now, this account, your wi... your ex-wife have any access to it?" Donald asked as he slid the papers over to Tommy.

"No," Tommy smiled tightly. "I uh, I set it up to save some money buy her a watch for Christmas."

"Well, uh, still can," Donald joked, glancing at the amount of money on the receipt.

"Wouldn't that just be too cute?" Tommy laughed.

Then he grew serious as Heidi stood, waiting for their business to conclude.

"Uh, Ms. Moek, you look something up for me? There's a property at thirty fifteen Highway twenty seven? You wouldn't happen to know who owns that, huh?"

"Thirty fifteen? Let me..." Heidi said and strode off.

"What's at...." Donald asked.

"You like po-boys?" Tommy asked.

"Po-boys? Love them, best place is this little shack out in Jack's Creek," Donald said.

"Momma's? Yeah, those are so good," Tommy agreed. "But there's going to be a new place opening real soon called Tommy's, all right? Put them to shame."

Tommy smiled as Heidi returned.

"Turns out, we're the ones holding the lease on that, or did you already know that?" Heidi asked.

"Kind of did," Tommy admitted. "What would you say if I offered you fifty for it?"

"Make it seventy five and it's yours," Heidi countered.

"Sixty after a full title search," Tommy said.

"Hmmm," Heidi paused then shrugged.

The property had been vacant for three years, had been nothing but a scorched slab of concrete. A young lady had leased the property, erected a metal building and currently ran a dance studio out of it. But the girl had trouble meeting the expenses and was quite often delinquent on her note. If this young man was willing to assume that headache, he was welcome to it.

"Damn, need you negotiating at my office," Donald snickered as Heidi scrambled to get everything together.

"Any time you in there? On the house, hear?" Tommy promised.

"Son, never ever tell a lawyer that," Donald joked. "They'll be in there every day!"

At her apartment, Kaitlin looked around, overwhelmed.

She needed to decide what to pack, what would be coming back with her to Momma's house, and what would be going into the dumpster.

As empty as Kaitlin felt inside, as numb as she felt, everything in the damned apartment could just go into the large dumpster behind the building.

Momma was livid; only one of the off-shore accounts was actually Kaitlin's. Patricia had only put Kaitlin's name on the other one in case anything happened to Patricia. And Tommy MacElroy wasn't supposed to get penny one of either one of those accounts.

And Tommy MacElroy wasn't supposed to get penny one of any monies Kaitlin Monroe accrued as a powerful attorney; he was supposed to just pay the bills for her until such time that Kaitlin could dispose of him.

But now, he would be receiving half of her income for the next three years; a recompense for the three years he'd been paying for her schooling, recompense for the three years they'd been married.

Kaitlin sat down heavily into the blue recliner.

And when had she become such a blimp? The snap on her skirt threatened to bust open as she sat.

Upstairs, Kaitlin heard the petite red head stride across the living room, then heard and felt music pound and thump through the floor.

Anger coursed through her and Kaitlin wiggled and thrust her immense bulk out of the chair, prepared to march upstairs and pummel the inconsiderate bitch upstairs.

"Kaitlin, damn, it's like one thirty in the afternoon," Kaitlin said and again felt weariness envelope her.

Brandon Johnson had finally let Kaitlin know that she would not be joining Johnson, Johnson and Lambert; Parker had stormed out of the building before Donald Pellichet, Tommy MacElroy, and their entourage had even completed gathering their papers.

So, on top of packing and moving, on top of studying for the BAR, she would also have to work on getting a resume together.

Kaitlin smiled sadly as she looked at the couch. She and Tommy had picked out that couch; the blue flowers matched her Daddy's recliner. Then Tommy had managed to get the couch upstairs, saving himself the fifty dollars fee O'Neil's in Elgee wanted for delivering it.

Then they'd fucked on it. The salesman had assured them that it was stain-treated. That same night, Momma, Hillary, Chad and Jeffrey had come over to their apartment for dinner. She and Tommy had shared a secretive smile; Momma was sitting on their wet spot as she criticized the couch, the coffee table, the kitchen table they'd bought.

Kaitlin looked at the coffee table. Tommy would sit on that couch and use that coffee table to put his beer, his chips and dip, and his feet on while he watched stupid boring football or NASCAR on their 42" LCD television.

Kaitlin glanced at the television, and then looked around for the remote control. She honestly could not remember the last time she had turned the television on. She could not remember if she had paid the cable bill or put in Tommy's stack of mail.

Looking at the kitchen counter, she saw the stack of mail and saw Tommy's apartment key sitting on top of the stack.

The cable bill was right on top, unopened. Looking at it, Kaitlin realized, just like everything else in their apartment, it was in her name and her name only. So why would Tommy pay it?

Overhead, the music continued to pound on and on. Kaitlin waddled into her bedroom to see if she could determine a starting place for packing.

Kaitlin spotted her jewelry box on top of the dresser and decided it could be the first item she packed. She grabbed it, knocking something that had been sitting on top of it to the floor.