Meal delivery is on time.
Love is beautiful.
Especially when you tip more than a dime.
Lovewasn’tcheap. If I were going to go through the effort of pairing up individuals that would otherwise narrowly miss paths, I may as well be reimbursed for my talent. Taking my share of the Figueroa’s Fluffs, I beamed with pride as I retreated to a metal swing set a short distance away.
Taking my seat on a swing, I bit into the first sad excuse for a cream puff. I was close enough to make sure things went off without a hitch, but far enough not to look creepy.?
Whattranspirednext was what I liked to call the “Double-Tap” moment.?
In successful matches, two hearts beat together twice in rapid succession. The stars aligned, invisible confetti shot out of unicorn asses, and I did my victory dance. It was all super magical stuff.
In matches that were not so successful? The Double-Tap had more… obscure meanings.I’dseen everything from a double-knee strike to theballsack, a double gunshot from the woman scorned, and in many cases, the guy just went home alone and did a one-two jerk-and-squirt. Every so often, the unsuccessful Double-Tap was more subtle with a fake number and a false “This was fun!”
But there I was, leaning forward, waiting for the telltale signs of how this coupling was going to go. Would they hit it off and bond over food poisoning?Or would this rendezvous turn sour with a double duck attacktoher kneecaps?
Fortune had it that the Fates smiled down upon us all. Our sweet middle-aged banker pulled out all the right moves. He fed the starry-eyed young woman French fries like a pro, and her giggle carried across the park.
Thump-thump.
Perfect synchronization.
I sighed wistfully. It was moments like these when you saw the two unlikely individuals come together that madeeverythingI did worthwhile. The sacrifice of my own love storyin order togive everyone else theirs was a sacrifice I made without complaint on days like today.
Valentine’s Day grew nearer one Double-Tap at a time.?
Everyone’s heartbeat syncing, except mine.
CHAPTER TWO
After the bangof the gavel, Judge Sullivan left for his chambers, the air of propriety leaving with him. Turning to face my client, I reached out and grabbed his hand in a firm handshake.
“You’re a free man, Robbie.” I patted his shoulder with my other hand before stepping back to gather my files. “Welcome back to the land of bachelorhood.”
His divorce case had been particularly brutal. His now ex-wife, Clarissa, had been digging her six-inch heels in over petty shit. The house with the white picket fence. Alimony payments for the next five years. A custody agreement inclusive of child support for their damn dog.
Not only had I successfully outmaneuvered the bitch’s legal team, but I made sure that she ended up owing Rob a hefty sum for legal fees incurred and for his half of her feet pic business. Technically, a custom orthotics company, butsamedifference.
My client’s mother hugged him over the dividing banister between the gallery seating and the plaintiff’s table. Her tears of joy streamed down her face like he had just narrowly escaped the death penalty.
The plump elderly woman looked at me with watery eyes over Robbie’s shoulder.
“Thank you, Mr.Nightvale. Thank you for taking care of my boy,” she said, her heavily Slavic-accented words thick with emotion.
The man was fucking forty-six years old, but once a mama’s boy, always a mama’s boy.
Nodding in brief acknowledgment of her gratitude, I offered up a polite smile. “My pleasure, ma’am. I just did my part to uphold the letter of the law to ensure your son was treated fairly during this unfortunate situation.”
All professionalism. Pretty words that cloaked the disdain I had for the institution of marriage. Hell, it even masked how I felt about love in general. It was a useless feeling that madefools of everybody.
Truthfully, Rob had escaped a particularly grave situationbythe hair of his balls. That vile woman he had married would have ended up being his ultimate demise. Clarissa would have given him a stroke with her insistent nagging. If death by nagginghadn’tbeen the culprit, she eventually would have ripped his beating heart out in the most disgusting manner and shit-stomped it into a sewage drain.
I did this man the biggest favor of his life by makingsure hedidn’tleave here still under her conniving and well-manicured thumb.
After ordering my paralegal to pack up the rest of the boxes of filesevidencingthis trainwreck, I fished my phone from my pocket and began swiping through missed messages.
Leaving the courtroom in search of better cell service, I nearly collided with a leggy blonde who was all bones and no curves.
