WHAT'S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT WHEN CARMA'S INVOLVED?

ONCE

What I thought was going to be an entire office meeting turned out to be a congratulatory breakfast for me with the Savage men. A deeper dive into the players surrounding the case pointed me in directions the police never bothered to explore. The entire case revolved around one man's statement. A statement that made an impression on all who heard it and told the events exactly as they happened. Or did it? That statement by itself sent a man to prison for life.

Mr. Reynolds professed his innocence since his arrest. He had a court-appointed lawyer that did the bare minimum. Other lawyers after that did the same. I assumed they believed more in his guilt than his innocence. Román was contacted by Mr. Reynolds' family right before I was hired. He had already spent five years in prison and had one appeal left. Román decided to take the case after I accepted his offer. Had I known I would be tested like that, I might have stayed where I was. A man's life hung in the balance and if I had not diligently worked to find the hole in the only witness' statement, Mr. Reynolds would have been an innocent man dying behind bars. We still have a few papers to file, but he should be a free man in a matter of weeks. Then he can sue the fck out of the city and everyone who put him where he did not belong. Do I believe he should? You can bet your bottom dollar. His life and his family’s life had been interrupted and destroyed. Compensation for such an egregious error should be automatic.

Once work discussions were out of the way, Travis, being a nosy Nelly, asked why I didn’t go to work by my father’s side. I fell miles short of the truth about the subject and told him my work ethic wasn’t appreciated and money drives him, not justice. The latter was one hundred percent true at least.

“We have a conscience around here. Well, most of us anyway.” Travis punched Alixxander in the arm.

During the three hours together, we barely ate because the men conversed constantly. I admired their closeness and how much of a riot they were. Ya, I was kinda close with my sisters, but we drifted apart when I was ten years old. My face hurt from laughing at the goofballs. I kept a watchful eye on Alixxander whenever a joke or story didn’t shine a good light on him. Him watching my reactions didn’t go unnoticed by me. He may not have a faithful fiancé, but at least he had his family. It was much more than I had.

“How did my brother convince you to hop in his whip?” Richie. I didn't care for him on my first day. Still don't, but the one thing I refuse to mess with is my livelihood, so I answered politely.

“As you can see, my boys are practical jokers.”

“That's why he's marrying Carma.” Richie blurted out, and the table burst out in a loud fit of laughter. I didn't think it was funny, even though Alixxander chuckled at the dig. I think I’m gonna start calling his brother D*ck from now on.

“Dude, I'm tellin' ya, don't fcking marry her.” Travis spoke as if he had experience.

“Can you boys not scare Miss Sanchez away with this drama?” Román put the hammer down on his kids.

“What's happening?” Why do I forget to remember curiosity always killed the cat?

It seemed the brothers had a bet over the twig. Travis was the victor, but the twig didn't give up the spoils. Román was not happy to call her his daughter-in-law then, and he didn’t seem too thrilled to have to do it again. Travis was able to annul the marriage because they never consummated. Alixxander basically picked up where Travis left off. Richie interrupted Travis just to tell Alixxander to start praying for the tramp to get knocked up by someone else. Román insisted Alixxander learn from Travis's mistake. Wow. Everyone knew he was on a bad path.

“Do we have to do this here? I have a fiancé who once upon a time was married to Travis. Get over it.” Alixxander no longer took the jokes in stride. “Travis is on his second marriage of God knows how many are to come, and Miss Sanchez doesn't look dumb enough to fck either one of you.” How did I get dragged into it?

“Gentlemen.” There was no need to let a fight break out. “I want to thank you for taking a chance on me, and it was my pleasure to aid in a man's freedom. The subject you are on is a family matter and while you make me feel like family, I am not. So, I'm going to take my leave and make sure everything is in order with the case. I will see you gentlemen later or tomorrow.”

With purse in hand, I tried to escape. Alixxander grabbed my hand and whispered in my ear. He was making a big deal out of me walking back to the office. Román announced his wife was waiting for Alixxander, and said he’d see me bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning. That meant I wasn’t going to see him for the rest of the day. He told Román there were a few details we needed to discuss about the case. Completely ignoring his father, he escorted me from the restaurant to his car. For the life of me I was unable to figure out what was left to discuss.

Before opening the car door for me, he asked if I liked being on TV. Safely in the car with the doors locked, he explained we were photographed and recorded while in the restaurant. Being a high-profile family, I assumed it was a recurring issue. Because I shrugged it off, Alixxander began acting strangely. No, it was more like worry for me. After five minutes of beating around the bush, he spit out the surprising news. Román’s plan was to have a press conference to introduce his new pit bull on the prowl. Despite the news, I sensed there was more being kept from me.

“If you walk it could reflect badly on the firm.” Oh, please. People tend to make something out of nothing when they come up empty. Alixxander was concerned about that, but if someone followed us outside, I WAS IN HIS CAR.

“I can read between the lines. It's a win-win for me, Miss Sanchez.”

That wasn't funny. We drove in silence to an underground parking lot. You know, I didn't move to get caught up in anyone's family drama when I had plenty of my own that I didn’t want to deal with. My goal was for my career to soar to heights mi padre never imagined possible for me or himself. We entered a building through a locked door in the parking lot. A long corridor led to the office. Looking around, I was like, what the hell? How did I not know this entrance existed? He asked me to follow him. I did.

He led me to an actual office with a desk, chair, and door. “This is your new office.”

“Why? What's wrong with my cubicle?”

“Nothing is wrong with it. And because I said so.” Does he always get snippy after a meal with his family?

Pulling a folder from the otherwise empty desk, he slapped it down, put his index finger on it, and informed me it was my next case. Then poof, he disappeared from sight. The case file was extremely thin. A measly five pages. The lack of information astounded me. Was it another case to test my abilities or lack thereof? How could anyone attempt to defend a case, never mind attempt to win without more substance? The client ran in the same circles as Román. Witness statements were half-assed, most didn't include a name or contact info. Jotting down notes as I went along, it was as if the officers involved made up the scenario on the fly. Claiming to have seen a bag of some sort thrown from the vehicle, but never searching the area to find it. If only shoddy police work was enough to have an entire case thrown out. I loathe law enforcement sometimes. With my work cut out, I started at once.

The next morning started off with me giving the rental agency a piece of my mind. Another vehicle was supposed to be dropped off for me and yet there I was, stranded for another day. Walking sounded like a better alternative than to call Alixxander and risk dealing with his spicy attitude again.

The press attendance garnered more attention than anything Padre put together. Good thing I dressed down for my walk. Throwing my hood up, I said, “Excuse me,” very loudly. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, no questions asked. None for me at least. Safely in the office, I ducked into the bathroom to change into my work attire. As I scrunched some volume into my hair, I heard the commotion outside.

“Mr. Savage, the pictures of the young woman circulating, were you interviewing her because she is more suitable for your son Alixxander?” Am I though?

“Alixxander, is she your mistress? Were you introducing her to the family? If so, where were your mother and sister?” I found the questions being asked hysterical.

Román was not accepting of his son's love interest, but I don't think he cared enough to interview women for the sole purpose of getting his son laid. Both men ignored the ridiculous questions. At that point, I decided it would be a cold day in hell before I allowed my name to get dragged through the mud. Then again, with their track records, the truth might be perceived as a lie to cover their tracks. I took one last look in the mirror before stepping outside. Oh ya, I looked good.

Immediately, I was spotted. “There she is.” The five Savage men turned to look.

“Ma'am, ma'am. Why were you having breakfast with the Savages?”

Pushing through the men, I raised my hands to silence the crowd. “If you would like me to speak, I need you all to remain quiet until I finish.” Pausing, I looked around before beginning. “Thank you. Our breakfast was a premature celebration. The Savage family hired me a month ago. Mr. Alixxander Savage and I have been working our butts off. You can't tell from mine, but our results prove otherwise.” A few chuckles were heard throughout the crowd, including from Román. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear, I was not hired to be someone's girlfriend or mistress. I am happy with my current partner. Understand this, my name will not be attached to torrid affairs. I am just a woman that accepted a job and wants nothing more than to prove I belong hanging with the big boys. Whoever took those photos and made up a story, you should be ashamed of yourself for inciting destruction in the lives of this family as well as mine. No one is perfect. Let me be clear, I have no bones about putting you in your place when you are wrong. I do not care who you are.” Waving to the crowd, I turned and walked into the building before the stunned audience could ask a question.

That was not how I wanted to earn my fifteen minutes of fame on the East Coast. I seized the opportunity to prove I never shy away from a challenge. My explanation was brief and straight to the point. With my peace said, I hoped to get some work done.