My late afternoon meeting had just broken, and I was walking out of the lobby with Bob and Ted, my partners. We had just brokered the biggest deal our firm had ever completed and were euphoric. We had worked on this deal for over six months, logging ridiculous hours traveling, observing, and negotiating this merger. The two companies signed the agreement today and retained us as their new corporate attorneys, meaning millions of dollars in billable hours for the next three years and most likely forever.
The clients had gone, and the staff had finished cleaning up all the paperwork. I sent them home feeling excellent about what we all had accomplished together. I am Terrance Grace, Managing Partner. I gave everyone off the rest of the day and tomorrow, Friday, for family time and to take a deep breath, knowing we had to hit the road running on Monday.
As we reached the hotel's front door, the valets ran off to get our cars, and we all pulled out our phones and feverishly texted our spouses about our successful day. We had agreed not to tell them what was happening today and surprise them when it finally happened. They all knew we were working on something big, but we legally could not discuss it, and we did not want to build it up if, for some reason, it did not happen. So, this was a day of celebration for each of the partners.
Ted's Toyota SUV arrived first, and I joked. "I think we all need to make an appointment for our new company cars on Monday. What do you think?"
We all laughed and agreed.
Bob's Chevy came up next, and we all hugged, and I sent them on their way.
We had been friends since the second year of law school at Stanford. We all decided not to take the big offers and get sucked up in the big law firms bidding for our services. We had decided together that we were damn good lawyers, and we just needed to pass the bar, and we could build our law practice from the ground up.
We graduated top three in our class and were inundated with offers. They were hard to turn down, but we stuck to our plan. We were all single with huge student loans and lust for the law. We were driven and agreed that we would do whatever we had to build our firm, be successful and pay off all our loans in three years.
The start was rough, but I had some family money from a small inheritance for my grandmother, so we had a little seed money. On the first try, we all passed the bar and opened Stevens, Palmer, and Grace, Attorneys at Law, on August 1st, 2016.
It was a typical late summer day in the south, hot and sticky from the first breath of the day. The excitement we all felt was salted with fear and wild dreams of success. We knew nothing was going to stop us. We did a ribbon cutting we had stretched across our shopping strip door. We all man hugged as we stepped through the door into our first office at 250 Lanier Place, Atlanta, Georgia.
It was a former real estate office with cubicles and two conference rooms. We rented the furniture and equipment we needed. We hired two paralegals to work as jills of all trades, doing everything we needed to be done, on the promise we would make them rich in five years.
Marilyn Scott was an older woman that had retired a few years earlier after twenty-five years of experience working in mergers and acquisitions at a leading Atlanta firm. She had all the local knowledge and broad experience in the back office work we needed. She also knew a lot of people, good contacts, and resources. Unfortunately, her retirement didn't last long. Her husband developed cancer and passed away quickly, so she needed the distraction our job could offer.
Francis Strong, Frankie to us, was our second hire. She was a young paralegal right out of school with no experience, and Marilyn took her under her wing and taught her everything. They were an incredible team. Within six months, we had two Marilyns, an older and younger version.
We were off and running, taking on any legal work we could get, including traffic violations, evictions, drunk driving, and personal injury. We even took on a few divorces since Marilyn knew that business cold. We were not shy about making money. We had all given up big money and felt good about it, but sometimes we wondered if we had been crazy starting as we did.
We had all agreed to pay our two ladies well to keep them happy, and we paid us little. We had enough to buy clothes and food and have a place to shower and sleep. Our cars were all crap, but they got us from point A to point B, and right now, that was all that mattered.
We had a three-bedroom apartment that was always a disaster. We had work stuff all over the place, and we were just three bachelors with no women in our personal lives, living on Ramen Noodles and fast food. We didn't have time to cook, and none of us could. It was like law school, work, eat, work, sleep, eat and work. That was the twenty-four-hour cycle. We had no social life, with our only real conversations with other people being with our clients and other attorneys or clerks of the courts.
We knew the routine and were committed to it until that day came when we had banked enough money to pay off our college loans. That was the first and most important thing, to be free of that hideous debt. There would be a celebration.
In the meantime, Marilyn had us over every Sunday for a real meal. Frankie always came too. She was twenty-four and had no serious boyfriend. Later we found out Frankie had been with a guy through high school. Sadly, a year after, her boyfriend was killed in Afghanistan, and she had not recovered from that, so we helped her as best we could.
We had a little Christmas party, just the five of us, and a very nice restaurant and went out for a few drinks and laughs. That was the first night I saw a twinkle in Bob's eye for Frankie. Their love slowly smoldered for several months, then one day, he told Ted and me. "Guys, I am madly in love with Frankie, and she is in love with me. How can this work?"
Ted and I looked at each other and felt genuine happiness for our friend and coworker for the first time. "It will work out as long as the two of you are all business in the office and sluts at home, but you can never bring her into our 'den of disgust.' She will want to clean it up, and that will not happen."
We all laughed and went out to congratulate the happy couple. Bob and Frankie dated for a year, then moved in together, and six months later, they married in a modest ceremony, with just family and a few friends. It was beautiful, and they were happy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Our business was growing. After two years, I focused on business law, finding a small merger and a couple of acquisitions. We received a few referrals, and the three initial relationships were successful, so we had a foothold in the mergers and acquisition arena. They fed our coffers, allowing us to hire another young attorney, Ryan Styles, to handle the other mundane business we had been doing. Ted and Bob stepped into the bread-and-butter business, and we were off and running.
Our staff grew. We hired an assistant and promoted Marilyn to Lead Paralegal, and she handled all our M & A business while Frankie did all of Ryan's work.
By the end of our third year, we had banked $454,000. That was more than we needed to pay off our college loans. We asked Ryan how much his loans were, and we agreed to pay them off if he signed a three-year work contract. He agreed, so all of us would be debt free and ready to fly!
The next two years were exciting but required a lot of hard work. We added three more staff and one more attorney, Suzzanne Welch. She was a contract specialist and a graduate of Emory Law. Suzzanne was the necessary asset that enabled us to move onto the next level of client. She came highly recommended, but we did have to buy her away with the promise of Junior Partner in two years.
She was a beautiful thirty-year-old woman from a very good Savanna family. Her whole family was in the law. Suzzanne had broken away from working in family law to personal injury to work in M & A, her passion. She was recently divorced, and 100% focused on work.
In the meantime, Frankie and Bob had a baby boy they named Frank. He was cute but caused Frankie to pull back some. She still worked three days a week, and we were making enough money now they could afford a nanny for the other days.
Ted and I had separated and bought homes, so NO more bachelor disaster area living.
I bought a beautiful older house, bigger than I needed, on Tuxedo Road in Buckhead near the Cherokee Country Club. I love golf and want access to the town club for lunch and business meetings. I completely remodeled the house, making it a great party house, but I also set it up for my future family.
Ted was much more outgoing and had been holding back while we built our practice. He was planning to become the available bachelor and more into the party scene. So, he bought a three-bedroom condo downtown that would work best for him.
Bob and Frankie bought a house in Druid Hills, remodeled it, and moved in just as they welcomed their second baby, a little girl, Stacy Anne. Bob was the consummate family man, and with two little ones, Frankie left the firm to tend to her family. She was always there to help and gave Bob a good bedroom consultation.
Another change was we bought a house, zoned for business, in Dunwoody. After remodeling the building to meet our needs, we moved our offices there. We now had space for ten associates and a staff of twenty. When we outgrew this office, we would be in the big time. The location would prove over time to have been a very strategic move.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So back to today. Today was our young firm's best day six years after our small beginning. We have just closed our biggest acquisition agreement and secured a three-year legal retainer that will pay us millions in fees over its term.
Frankie, the office staff, our wives, and girlfriends have planned a celebration for tomorrow night at the Capital City Club.
Yes, finally, after all this time in the past two years, Bob and I have broken out of business-induced celibacy and found loving partners.
Bob had Mindy James as his live-in girlfriend, and they will surely get married.
I also took the love pill and now have Patrice Jones Grace as my wife. I am happy to say I have found the missing piece of my life. I will tell you more later, but sixteen months and twenty-one days ago, we were married in a nice church wedding with our parents and friends in attendance. It was a beautiful service, and everyone was so happy.
Life has been like a fairytale ever since. It was like once we all committed to ourselves and others sharing our lives, everything came together, and our lives flourished. Contracts began to come our way, and our law firm grew quickly.
It was Patrice that connected us with this large deal. Her best friend was married to the CEO of one of the companies, and the natural flow of business took over, and it all came together, leading us too today.
My Ford Explorer arrived, and I got in. I was the last one to leave, and as I pulled out onto the street, I saw Patrice's Red BMW pull into the Marriott across the street. I thought that was odd. Thursday was her Book Club Night, and they met at Melissa's house. I looked at my watch. It was 6:47 pm, and they started at 7:00 sharp. The last thing I heard from her this morning was she would be home by ten, as was the norm.
I pulled over in the parking lot and pulled out my phone. I had sent her a quick text earlier telling her we had closed the deal and was excited for her to get home after the book club. I had been so caught up with the excitement of the day and Bob and Ted that I hadn't realized Patrice had not responded. That surprised me, but I thought it was nothing. We are both busy and don't always respond quickly, but that and the fact I saw her arriving at a hotel made my antenna rise.
I pulled out and shot across the street into the Marriott parking lot, seeing Patrice step out of her BMW talking on her phone. I pulled up and parked behind her as she walked away into the lobby.
I got out of my SUV and walked around the building stopping by the pool and outside bar. I looked over the bar through the window into the inside lounge area. I saw Patrice sitting at the bar by herself. Her standard dirty Martini was sitting in front of her, Greygoose Vodka, three large Spanish olives, and two tablespoons of olive juice.
I took out my phone and took a picture of her as I saw her answer her phone. She talked a minute, then drank the remainder of her Martini, and the bartender pushed a house ticket to her, and she signed it. She slipped off the stool and walked out of the bar. I moved, following her across the lobby and seeing her step into the elevator. I quickly walked over and saw the car stop on the sixth floor.
I had taken a second picture as she was standing by the elevator, so I had my phone in my hand. I looked in the directory and pressed dial. The other end answered.
"Trevor, I need you now. Can you come? Downtown Marriott on Peachtree. Bring your bag of goodies. We have some things to do."
"OK, in fifteen minutes. I'll meet you in the parking lot. Look for my SUV."
I hung up, walked across the lobby into the lounge, and sat on the same stool Patrice had occupied. The bartender asked what I would like, and I wanted to ask, 'To know what my wife is doing on the sixth floor.'
"No, thank you, I am meeting someone. I was in here a little while ago and saw a blonde woman sitting here. I think I knew her, but before I could say anything, I got a call, and when I returned, she was gone. Do you know her name? Does she come here often?"
He looked at me, analyzing what I had said. I was smooth, so it sounded legit. I knew he would tell me.
"Yes, I have seen her six or seven times in the last few months. She always meets the same guy or gets a call and goes to meet him, but later I see them come in for a drink. She always drinks a dirty martini, probably matching want she had been doing with the guy upstairs. I love bartending but hate the cheaters I have to serve here. I can pick them out every time, and it makes me sick."
"So, you think she was cheating," I asked.
"Hell yeah, she was. I heard them talking a week ago tonight. She was worried about her husband catching them, and she said he was an attorney and would dump her.
"What did the guy say," I asked
"He leaned over and kissed her. Then he said, Terrance, will never find out. He is so wrapped up in his big deal that he doesn't know anything about your actions. Why did you break up with me and marry that nerd anyway?"
"That was the conversation, and he said all that?"
"Yeah, I remember it because the woman started to tear up at the nasty words he was saying about her husband."
"What did she say?"
"She told him, 'Jimmy, shut the fuck up!' She slapped him, and she got up and left. The guy sat there and then ran out without paying. I ran after him and caught him at the door. He looked out, seeing her driving away, and said loudly, 'Fuck Her.'"
"I told him he had to pay the bill and dragged him back into the bar. Then security came and threw him out. I bet that is why he didn't come in tonight, and she went to meet him."
"You have been extremely helpful. What is your name?"
"Bernie, Bernie Quinn, and yours?"
"Terrance Grace, Bernie, so glad to meet a good honest bartender."
"Oh fuck, you're her husband, aren't you, Terrance. Sorry man!"
"Well, Bernie, I am still legally her husband, but it may not be much longer. Thanks for your time and for being so nice to me. My PI, Trevor, will come to see you in a few minutes. Please cooperate with him, OK."
"Sure, I will do what I can."
I took my card, wrapped it with a hundred-dollar bill, and pushed it across the bar. "This is not a communal tip, Bernie; it is for you, so put this twenty in the tip jar. Thanks again. If you ever need any legal work, you have my card."
Bernie thanked me, and I left. I went outside to my SUV, and Trevor was waiting for me.
"Sorry, Trev, I found a very friendly bartender who will help us greatly."
"Terry, what's going on?"
"Patrice is cheating on me. I can't believe it, but she is. I guess I have been so wrapped up in this deal I couldn't see it happening. Maybe two or three months now, I think. They have been here to this hotel six or seven times that Bernie has seen them. Sometimes he comes to the bar, but other times he calls her when she is in the bar, and she goes up to meet him. That is what they did tonight. They're on the sixth floor, but I'm unsure which room. Patrice signed a room charge ticket, so she wrote it on the ticket."
"OK, I can get it, so what do you want me to do?"
"Bernie, the bartender, is expecting you, so get what you can from him and the room number. I also want to know who this fucker is. Jimmy is the name she called him last week. I want everything on him. Is he a regular here? Does he live here? You know, I want to know every fucking thing! When you get that, I want you to call me with what you have."
"OK, I'll get it all as fast as possible."
"As for Patrice, bug her car and activate that email, text, and phone tracker we put on her phone a while ago. Trev, I never thought I would use it for this, but I need to know everything."
"OK, boss, I'm on it. I'll be back to you as soon as I can."
"Last thing, I want a man on both of them 24/7 until I settle this."
"OK"
I shook Trevor's hand and left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As I drove home, I thought back to the last two years with Patrice. It had been wonderful, so how could she start cheating on me? Why?
I couldn't figure it out, so I stopped trying. Patrice had to explain to me if she planned to remain my wife, and I was not sure I even wanted that now.
I speed-dialed my brothers. They both answered, all excited and happy.
"Guys, I have some distressing news that you must keep to yourselves until I tell you that you can tell your wives. Patrice is cheating on me, and I don't know more than that. I saw her walking into the Marriott across from our meeting hotel. She was supposed to be at her book club on Thursday nights, but she has been with him for the past few months. I have Trevor on it, and we have a very cooperative bartender that hates cheaters that have filled us in on what he knows."
"Are you sure? Bob asked.
Then Ted, “Please don't do anything crazy, Terry."
"No, I am going to act like nothing has happened and go on with life just like what the two of you are going to do. This phone call never happened, understand? It would help if you acted normal around Patrice tomorrow and from now on until I tell you. Understand. NO MISTAKES, NO COMMENTS, NO NOTHING!" Making it as clear as I could.
"OK, OK," they both agreed. Now make love to your wives, like I will do tonight when Patrice comes home. Good night!"
I hung up, pulled into my garage, shut off the engine, and took a deep breath. A wonderful day had turned into pure shit for me; what to do now.
I went inside and poured a stiff Makers Mark, shot it down, then poured the tumbler full.
I walked into my office, popped on my laptop, and opened the tracking software on Patrice's phone. I went to text, and there was my text from earlier, then several texts from JBC.
JBC text: "Are you coming tonight? I am only here tonight, so come now, or don't waste my time."
She didn't answer.
JBC earlier text: "You said you were coming tonight, are you?"
She didn't answer the earlier text either.
Two days ago,
JBC text: "I am at the Marriott on Thursday. Are we getting together?"
Patrice had not answered that text either.
I didn't go further back. I was sure of what I would have found and wasn't willing to fill my head with more hate.
I went to the email tracker and saw an email from James Conley.
"Hey, baby,
"Sorry about last week. I was completely out of line. I know you love Terry and don't want to lose him. We can stop seeing each other if that is what you want. I never thought you would ever get with me from the start. I love being with you. It's fun and brings back what we used to have, though I know you don't feel like that for me now. We are just having good sex like we used to. I love fucking you, and you like it too, or you wouldn't come back. I understand if you want to stop.
I will be in town next week, and we can meet and discuss it and end it if you want. Your decision, but I am OK either way."
James"
Wow, what an asshole. James doesn't give a shit about Patrice, and he only wants to fuck her. She has no value to him; she is just a hot piece of ass to him.
