Read Lex (Unconventional Hearts) Online
Authors: S.K. Logsdon
Second email! I wonder how good this one is
going to be? Ekkk!!!
From: SuitMaster6979
To: Lotionlady319
Tuesday 6:45 a.m.
To the lovely Lotion Lady,
I know you are probably not into work yet. I
was checking my messages and realized I haven’t heard back from
you. So, I thought I’d drop you a line before I dive into my latest
case. It’s been a difficult one for me to deal with. Sorry, I can’t
divulge more information than that.
How’s your morning? I hope you have a great
day at work. You’re pretty blue eyes and bright smile will be in my
thoughts until I fall asleep tonight.
Sincerest Heart - Suit Master
P.S “Beauty awakens the soul to act.”
Yet again, another amazing email, how in the
hell do you respond to that? Is it just me or does he seem too good
to be true? I’m trying to be realistic here. I’m not a pessimist
but he’s sweet, dresses nice; thanks to his sister. And he has ten
other spectacular things going for him, mainly, the working with
abused women and children. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear this
man seemed a lot like Gage. Same profession it terms of lawyer and
suits. Except the fact, Gage’s office is in Heartfair, I don’t
think he does abuse cases, he isn’t very nice, and I’m quite
certain he’s not as eloquently versed. He proved that yesterday in
the conference room when he blatantly stated verbatim “Ms. Keagan
displayed unprofessionalism when trying to have my clients sign the
documents, by exposing the tops of her boobs.”
Yes, he used the word
boobs
, not
breasts. I was somewhat surprised in his argument
fun bags
wasn’t the verbiage of choice. Apparently, in the court of law it’s
acceptable to speak of boobs. Sounds immature to me, but hey, I
might be slightly on the bitter side. Just thinking about that
pompous fucker who is way too good looking makes me even angrier,
mainly at God. How is it fair to be that sexy and smart, but still
be a complete asshat? It doesn’t add up, and if I don’t stop
thinking about him, I’m going to ruin my day and it’s starting out
so well.
“Are you busy, boss?” Daniel calls over the
intercom.
“Not today, why?” I speak sweetly and pray
that by the end of the day his hurt feelings are gone. I don’t want
an unhappy Daniel.
“There is someone here to see you.”
“If it’s Gage Masterson tell him to go
home.”
Chuckling into the speaker Daniel says. “No,
no, boss, it’s Laura from The Women’s and Children’s Shelter.”
I wonder what she wants. It can’t be good
news if she’s dropping by unexpectedly.
“Oh, yes, that’s fine, Daniel, please send
her in.”
The door to my office swings open, Laura, the
mid-thirties average build, average looks, brunette, wearing jeans,
and a white dress shirt comes walking in. Daniel closes the door
behind her.
“Please.” I gesture my hand to one of my open
guest chairs.
“Thanks.” She smiles, taking a seat, looking
rather uncomfortable.
“What can I help you with, Laura?” I make
sure my tone is more friendly than business. Anything involving
that shelter is personal to me. I would do anything to keep it
open.
“Well, I hate to do this. I know you already
donate so much as it is. But…there is a new family that we just
moved into our facility, three children all elementary school aged
and their mother. Their father was an abusive drunk and the mother
can’t walk properly, because two years ago he ran her over with
their family van and didn’t take her to the hospital for a week. So
her legs, after eight surgeries, are still in bad need of repair
and she can’t work. Our budget only covers enough to help get
people back on their feet; it doesn’t cover medical expenses,
vehicles, or anything above and beyond. I’ve pulled enough money to
get them an apartment for three months. I just don’t know what else
I can do.”
The drop of Laura’s face and her desolate
expression is pulling hard on my heartstrings. That poor woman and
her kids, I wonder why it’s taken her so long to get away from that
monster.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. You know I’ll do
anything I can to help. You tell me what and I’ll cover it, as long
as she is putting that bastard behind bars. If she wants to go back
to him, I can’t condone that. You know how I work, Laura, it’s all
or nothing.” I’m firm but just. She bobs her pretty little head,
agreeing with my every word.
“I know I made sure of that before I came to
you. She’s already put a restraining order on him and moved here.
They are from Toledo and moved to get away from him. Her mother’s
boyfriend brought them to us two weeks ago. I have enrolled the
children at Heartfair Elementary and the mother is taking online
courses so she can be a medical transcriptionist from home, part
time.”
Knowing Laura needs my help and has actively
sought it out is a huge step. She never does this.
“Alright, give me a second.” Pressing the
button on my phone, I buzz Daniel.
“Yes, boss?”
“Daniel, I need you to make sure you speak to
Kim and have her purchase the white single story that’s for sale on
Elm, I think it’s around fifty five thousand. Kim will know what to
do. Then, I want to make sure you place twenty thousand in a trust,
Laura will give you the woman’s name when she leaves. Lastly, I
want you to take the company credit card and furnish the house with
just the basics, no more than ten thousand. Do you have that
down?”
He replies by reiterating what I just said to
him and I hang up.
Turning my attention back to Laura, she’s
beaming and the gloom that she carried in is officially gone.
“Thank you, Lex. Thank you so much. She will
be so happy to hear about this.” She stands and reaches across my
desk to shake my hand. Instead, I come around my desk and wrap her
into a big hug.
Patting her back, I reassure. “If you ever
need anything Laura, you know I’m here. Make sure she sees a local
lawyer. Actually, I have a man who can do the job. I’ll give him
your number and make sure he contacts you right away. Send his bill
to me once the scumbag is behind bars.”
“Okay.” She sniffles, as she pulls away.
Stopping at the door, she turns, thanks me
and leaves.
I did my good duty for the day. Now I really
have to contact the Suit Master. I have a new job for him.
Sitting behind my desk, I click the reply
button on his email.
From: Lotionlady319
To: SuitMaster6979
Dear: Suit Master
I’m not sure if you’re generally this suave
but your ability to articulate words is not only flattering, it’s
impossible not to lie in bed late at night and think about.
Sorry I wasn’t able to write back sooner.
I’ve been rather busy doing research on a new product and line that
the company wants to create. And… I hope this isn’t too forward or
wrong of me. But, Laura from The Women’s and Children’s Shelter in
Heartfair is in need of an exceptional domestic violence lawyer.
She stopped by my office today, very distraught. I told her I’d
give you her number to have you contact them. I hope that’s okay,
spare no expense; I’ll cover the cost.
How is the new case coming along?
My hobbies? Hum…sorry to disappoint you, but
I’m severely lacking in that department. Does work count as a
hobby? If it does, I do that a lot. I love my job. As for the rest…
I read, drink lots of tea, shop, listen to music, and watch TV.
Those are my main go-to’s. Nothing exciting or profound, like sky
diving, rock climbing, or for people from around here off-roading,
I’m a quiet person and I like to have my quiet time. Oh… And I
can’t cook to save my life. My best friend swears I burn water.
However, I can make one mean cup of tea.
How about yourself? Any secret hobbies or
interests I should know about? Like sheering sheep? Or something
even stranger like eating balut eggs and scorpions heads? Lol… Just
kidding.
Maybe your hobbies are as dull as mine are.
Apparently, I’m like an eighty year-old woman and should probably
learn to knit. At least that would increase my chances of being
interesting. Maybe me and all my other old hags could pop out our
teeth, sip on some tea and chat about the newest knitting advances.
Whatever those might be. You’re welcome to come along, I’m sure it
would be a hoot.
In the interest of me not embarrassing
myself any further with my strange sense of humor, I shall leave to
you to daily duties and look forward to hearing from you again.
Hugs - Lotion Lady
P.S. Your two quotes were beautiful. Quite
literally, one of them I knew at first glance. It’s a quote from
Poe. As for getting into your pants and heart, I’m not sure if
that’s creepy or flattery, but I’ll accept it as both.
P.S.S “Three things cannot be long hidden:
the sun, the moon and the truth.”
Leaving him with a Buddha quote, I click the
send button on my computer, officially sealing my fate. Either he
will like what I have written, or he won’t. I can only hope it’s
the former, for that woman and her children’s sake.
Glancing at the pile of notes on my desk, I
frown. I haven’t stepped out of this four-walled box since I came
in this morning, except to use the restroom. It’s been one hell of
a busy day. Between Laura, then an assembly line malfunction, and
my newest job of deciding what goes with what, in terms of this
whole presentation package I have to present to Saks by the end of
May per our agreement. Which of course was made before I had to
deal with the lawsuit. They want an exclusive fall line, which
means it has to be completed no later than June so it can go into
production.
You may wonder how Keagan cosmetics came to
fruition. So, I’ll try to make this long story, short. When I was
in high school and working with my mother for some extra cash at
her floral shop, I started to experiment with the different types
of flowers and plants she has in her store. It’s common knowledge
that roses and lavender are both very common in bath and beauty
products. As is aloe and chamomile. Those are great products;
however, I knew there had to be more flowers to experiment with.
Which I did until I was seventeen and decided to make my very first
lip balm using beeswax, coconut oil, Shea butter, sweet almond oil,
and different variations of my mother’s flowers. At first, it was a
hobby. I made lip balm for all my friends. Then I started selling
it in her store. People grew to love it, and asked me to make
soaps, and tinted lip balms, which I did. After a few months, my
mother’s floral shop’s phone was ringing off the hook with orders.
So, I started a small business with Roni’s help, out of my mom’s
garage. We upgraded from just lip balms and bars of soap to salt
scrubs, lotions, even blush by roasting slices of beets in the
oven, grinding them up and turning them into a fine power. It’s not
as concentrated of color as big name makeup companies make, but it
does the job. The best thing about every single product we make
here at Keagan’s Cosmetics and Creams is they’re one hundred
percent natural. We don’t use fake dyes, scents or strange cooking
techniques. It’s slower and more expensive. So, our customers can’t
pay two dollars for our lip balm. Our basic balms cost six dollars
a tin. Which might sound like a lot, but people pay for the quality
and love, we put into every product we manufacture. If you want to
put strange chemical dyes and concoctions, I can’t even pronounce,
on your skin, then be my guest. My company doesn’t work that
way.
Lifting the massive amount of notes off my
desk and rearranging them in a neat pile inside a blue folder, I
close it and grab a sharpie from my drawer, writing
Fall
Products Saks
on the outside in black ink and Kelly’s name on
the bottom. Kelly is our product chemist. I don’t have the skills
to perfect the right ingredient ratio, that’s why I hired her five
years ago, and hasn’t steered me wrong, yet.
Checking the clock on the wall, it’s almost
eight and I haven’t eaten dinner. I could call Dolly, but they
close at nine and I’d hate to make her deliver this late. Guess
I’ll scrounge something up at home, not that there’s much in the
fridge. I really should get some groceries. I hate grocery shopping
here in Heartfair. It’s not like some cities where you can go in
and out with your cartful. Heartfair is a social event, you are
stopped ten times to chat with town folk and you get to hear
everybody’s stories, like Jane’s daughter Monica had a bouncing
baby boy three weeks ago and they named him Sven, true story. I
didn’t hear it at the supermarket though; I heard it in the
bathroom today at work. Not that I mind socializing, but when I’m
exhausted and want nothing more than to go home, eat, and take a
long bath. I don’t want to spend an hour talking to Mrs. Walker
about her son’s recent Boy Scout metal. Can ya really blame me?