XYZ

"I, I don't remember..." Elizabeth stammered.

"And Theresa White sat across from me and asked me what I planned to call my new business," Edward said. "She was there from the beginning; she was right by my side from day one."

"Our kids call her Aunt Theresa," Terri said, playfully stealing a chunk of steak from Edward's plate.

"Woman," Edward mock-complained.

"Want it back?" Terri asked, chewing the piece of meat.

"Terri, don't you dare," Edward smiled and she laughed.

Garrett did not get lucky. Elizabeth claimed to have a horrendous headache, brought on by the barely palatable meal, and that insufferable girl Terri Deubler. She brushed Garrett's lips with a thin line grimace then marched into her home.

Garrett drove home, debating with himself the entire way about going to Tijuana Jack's for an ice cold beer, the chance to ogle some very attractive young girls that pranced around nude. He turned onto Perkins and passed Dee Institute. Garrett refused to glance at the exclusive private school; he and Allison had talked about having children. They'd talked about sending their little urchins to St. Richard's, even though neither Allison nor Garrett were Catholic. They'd just started construction on the Dee Institute a year or so prior; Allison would have seen the school and would have insisted that their children would go to the beautiful school.

Now, seeing St. Richard's Catholic School, or any school filled Garrett with a resentment. And Elizabeth had made it clear that children were not in her future.

Garrett turned left and pulled into his Althea Woods subdivision. There were still lots available in the newest gated community. There were homes still being built. Elizabeth had declared, when they wed, he would be selling his home; she would not be selling her Julia Lake home.

"Uh huh," Garrett thought as he backed his Mercedes into the three car garage.

If, for any reason, they would divorce, the Julia Lake home would not be a part of the settlement; Elizabeth had owned it prior to their union. But any cash from the sale of his Althea Woods home would be community property. He would have sold it after their union.

Neither one had brought up a pre-nuptial agreement, although both understood there would be no marriage without the legal document. There would be no ceremony without an iron-clad document outlining who got what and who would be responsible for what should their marriage fail.

The cleaning service had been there; his home always had that oddly chemical lemon smell after they'd cleaned his home. He wearily climbed the stairs, already pulling his tie from his neck. At least there would be clean sheets on his bed. He loved the feeling of freshly laundered sheets.

His bed did have a fresh comforter draped on it. Garret nodded in satisfaction at the sight of his neatly made bed, the tiny grooves in his plush carpet made by the cleaning service's vacuum cleaner.

Garrett dropped his blazer onto his chair, slipped his penny loafers from his feet, and flung open his armoire. He slid open an interior drawer and selected a pair of pajamas. Turning, he walked into his bathroom.

"Oh. Let me guess," he spat. "Pajamas are for people who wear pearls, right?"

"I don't even know that little cunt's name," Garrett thought to himself as he stood in his bathroom, flossing his teeth.

The following morning, Garrett sat through the morning staff meeting. He was in the second chair on the left in the room, but was actually not in the room mentally.

"Garrett!" he heard Elizabeth snap, almost shrilly.

He looked up and everyone was staring at him. He swiveled away from the seventeen other pairs of eyes and looked at Elizabeth's angry eyes.

"Yes?" he calmly asked.

"Mr. Glasspool asked you, not once, not twice, but four times how our meeting with Edward Deubler went," Elizabeth said, perfect white teeth clenched together.

"And? Elizabeth, you were there. You tell him. You tell him that, because you had been thoroughly unprofessional to Edward Deubler fifteen years ago, he'll not be going with our firm," Garrett said.

Elizabeth reacted as if Garrett had slapped her. She staggered back as far as her chair would allow, her mouth hung open.

"Fifteen years ago, Edward Deubler met with Elizabeth, when this firm was Glasspool, Dumont, Fremin, Wagner," Garrett said. "She advised him against opening his first Deubler Furniture and appliances, then, for the benefit of her legal advice, she billed him four hundred and eighty dollars."

"At the time, Beaumont Rent To Own had gone belly up," Elizabeth defended. "I honestly thought the last thing Oakleaf needed was another rent to own store."

"Beaumont? They were gouging their customers, charging twenty one percent interest, not posting their customer's payments so they were always behind," David Glasspool reminded Elizabeth. "They didn't go belly up; the State Attorney General shut them down."

"But Edward Deubler did pay for our dinner, so the evening was not a complete waste," Garrett said. "If any of you haven't eaten at Tokyo Gardens? I highly recommend it."

Garrett saw the flush of anger and almost smirked. Apparently, Elizabeth had planned on billing Glasspool, Dumont & Associates for their dinner. Garrett's discloser that their meal had been free removed that possibility.

"Well. If there's nothing else?" Garrett asked, getting to his feet.

Elizabeth wasn't fully into Garrett's office before she started with, "What the hell was that?"

"That, my dear, was me reaching the end of my rope," Garrett sighed.

He stood, looking out the window. The street below was busy; people were still driving to their nine to five jobs, even though it was nearly ten o'clock.

"Reaching, what? What in God's earth are you talking about?" Elizabeth shrilled.

Garrett turned and left his office. Elizabeth stood, mouth open in shock at him brushing past her. She stood in shock that he would dare walk out on a conversation with her, especially since it was an argument.

"Going out, Mr. Dunning?" the receptionist asked pleasantly as Garrett strode toward the glass door of the law firm.

Garrett stopped, hand on the chrome handle of the heavy door. He turned and looked at the attractive red head. She smiled uncertainly.

"You know? I walk right by you, day after day. You always tell me good morning and I don't even look in your direction. You tell me good night and I don't even say boo to you," Garrett said slowly.

"Yes sir? I mean, you're not the only one," the girl said nervously.

"What's your name?" Garrett asked.

"Um, Donna. Donna Boudreaux. Remember? I'm from DeGarde; you said your wife had family from there?" the girl said.

Garrett nodded, then pushed the door open. He jabbed the 'down' button for the elevator and fished his cell phone out of his pocket.

"David Glasspool," David answered his phone on the fifth ring.

"Donna Boudreaux is doing a great job, you hear? Polite, professional, never seen her get put out," Garrett said as he stepped into the lobby of 1 Alliance Square.

"Um. Okay," David said. "Oh! That's the little red head up front, right?"

"Yes sir," Garrett said, stepping out into the Texas morning. "Damn it's hot out here."

Before David could ask any questions, Garrett hung up. He stood, impatiently waiting for the light, then hurried across the street.

"Young teacher. The subject. Of schoolgirl fantasy. She wants him, hi Gar," the sales girl sang, then greeted Garrett as he stomped into the jewelry store. "Come for that watch?"

"They got a men's' one?" Garrett asked as she pulled her ear buds from her ears.

"Uh huh," she said, striding over to the counter.

Her dress was very short and when she walked, the tops of her thigh high stockings flashed into view. She bent to open the case and again Garrett was afforded a glimpse of her lacy bra cups. Her blue eyes smiled, knowing what he had glimpsed.

"So, what's this watch say?" Garrett asked, looking at the rugged watch.

"Gar, it's a sports watch," Xaviera said, touching his hand.

She leaned close to him, blue eyes holding his brown eyes. Her fingertips trailed up and down his hand slowly, seductively.

"It's a watch that can take a hard knocking around and still work. It's I'm going to slap you on your ass and call you my whore. No, you're not a whore, you MY whore. I'm going put a spiked collar around that beautiful neck and call you my bitch. No, you're not a bitch, you MY bitch. No, don't turn the lights off; I want to watch you swallow me," she husked. "And no, leave the stockings on. Because I said so, that's why."

"God damn I'll take it," Garrett said.

"Just the men's'?" she asked, indicating her bare wrist.

"Take them both; what's your name?" Garrett demanded.

"Xaviera Yvette Zimlipic," she smiled.

"Xaviera..." Garrett said.

"Uh huh, X. Y. Z," the girl said, also grabbing the women's watch.

She moved her braids aside. Garrett could see that she sported three piercings in her ear lobe. A small x, y, and z dangled from each ring.

"My older sister? Momma named her Ava Tereza Zimlipic so last Christmas? I got her an A and a 2 and a Z. Get it? From A to Z," Xaviera giggled.

"Uh huh. And what's the deal with the tongue thing?" Garrett demanded, handing her his American Express credit card.

Xaviera smiled and put the two watch cases on the glass countertop. She leaned forward and grabbed Garrett's suit's lapel.

She brushed his lips with her full, pouting lips, then gently swiped her tongue across his stunned lips. She passed her tongue over his lips again, then stepped back, eyes searching his eyes.

"Hmm?" she asked.

"Nice," he said, voice shaking.

"I go to lunch at one; where you taking me?" Xaviera asked, putting the receipt for the watches in front of him.

Any thought of Elizabeth Dumont, his relationship with the carefully meticulous woman had escaped Garrett's mind when the young girl had pressed her pouting lips against his. Any thought of his unofficial engagement to Elizabeth did not crowd his consciousness as he looked at the beautiful Xaviera Yvette Zimlipic.

"You tell me," Garrett said.

"Gar! Put the watch on, and tell me where you're taking me. You the man, you the one in charge, remember? It's your hand print on my ass," Xaviera ordered.

"My, my hand print's not..." Garrett said, scribbling his signature.

"Not yet," she smiled, leaned forward and licked his lips again.

"Ever eat at Tokyo Gardens?" Garrett asked.

"Gar, I get an hour for lunch," she smiled. "You can take me there for our one month anniversary."

Garrett slipped his Rolex off of his wrist, put the sports watch on and clipped the band shut. Xaviera blew him a kiss as he left the store.

"I don't know whether to fire you or give you a raise," John said, coming out from the back of the store. "That was downright obscene."

"Won't need to fire me; I'll be quitting soon enough," Xaviera smiled, putting her new watch on her wrist.

"God. First the momma, then the sister, and now you, huh?" John shook his head.

Garrett dashed across the street and across the courtyard of 1 Alliance Square. In the lobby of the building, he smiled to a harried looking woman and a small girl that waited for an elevator.

"Hi. Where you going?" he asked the child.

"Um, Glasspool, but they don't got no pool, so I don't know why it's called that," the child answered.

"What? No way, me too," Garrett said, letting them get into the elevator first.

"Your daddy leave you too?" the girl asked.

"Melanie," the woman snapped.

"Who are you meeting with?" Garrett asked the woman.

"I uh, Brianna something," the woman said, face suddenly about to break.

"Oh, good choice!" Garrett assured the woman. "Brianna Walker's an excellent lawyer. She'll make sure you're treated right. Divorce sucks, no matter who your lawyer is, but you've got a great one there."

"Thank you," the woman said when Garrett held the glass door open for them.

"Bye, Melanie. You take care of your momma now, you hear?" Garrett smiled. "Hi Donna, how's it going?"

"Um," Donna said, watching the usually quite unfriendly man walk past her desk.

Garrett nodded and smiled to a paralegal as the woman walked past. The employee stopped and stared at Garrett as he entered his office.

Elizabeth stepped into Garrett's office and slammed the door. Garrett's smile infuriated the enraged woman even more. He settled down at his desk and typed his password into his keyboard.

"I don't know what kind of game you think you're playing, Garrett Alan Dunning," Elizabeth hissed.

"No, Elizabeth. I've quit playing games. That's what's really fucking you up. I'm not playing the game anymore," Garrett smiled.

He looked at his screen, nodded his head and clicked on an icon. Then he looked at Elizabeth.

"If there's nothing else, Ms. Dumont?" He asked. "No? Then please leave my office. I've got an eleven o'clock that should be here any minute now."

"We will talk about this, Mr. Dunning," Elizabeth snapped.

Garrett thought of the young woman just across the street as Elizabeth left his office. He knew he should feel guilty; after all, he was betrothed to Elizabeth Dumont. He tried to feel remorse, tried to conjure up reasons he should politely, but firmly tell Xaviera Yvette Zimlipic he could not, would not be taking her to lunch.

At twelve forty nine, Garrett was happily walking through the reception area. He smiled and nodded to another paralegal that was obviously returning from lunch.

"Mr. Dunning?" Donna asked.

"Yes?" Garrett asked, hand on the chrome handle of the door.

"I uh, I don't know what you told Mr. Glasspool, but he, I'm making twenty one an hour now," the girl said, brown eyes wide.

"Oh. Well, that's good, right?" Garrett asked. "I mean, I have no idea what you were making before."

"Uh huh," Donna nodded her head. "It's good."

"They don't write them like that anymore. They just don't write them like that anymore. We've been living together for a, hi Sweetheart," Xaviera sang then smiled when Gar pulled to a stop.

She opened the door and stepped in. The skirt of her short dress rode up, showing Garrett the cuffs of her thigh high stockings and the crotch of her bright red panties. She clicked her seat belt on and smiled.

"Knew you'd have a Mercedes, knew it'd be black with either a pearl gray or light tan pebble grain interior," Xaviera smiled. "And sure enough, black with tan interior."

"Oh. Well, a Mercedes is okay, right?" Garrett asked.

"Yeah, I mean, it's kind of predictable, but yeah, it's okay," she said.

"And what do you drive?" Garrett asked, a little miffed that she wasn't dutifully impressed with the luxury automobile.

"Me? A three fifty z," she said.

Xaviera squealed happily when he pulled to Browner Park and parked. She got out of the car and met Garrett at the trunk. She clapped her hands happily, stood on tiptoes and kissed him when he pulled the picnic basket from the trunk.

Now that they stood toe to toe in the parking lot of the new park, Garrett saw that he was substantially taller than the young girl. Her shoes were pumps with stiletto heels, at least five inches in length. When they stepped onto the sidewalk and prepared to cut across the grass, she kicked her pumps off and held them in her left hand. Her right hand, she clung onto Garrett's hand.

"Five feet, one inch," she answered before he could even ask.

He smiled and selected a spot. He pulled the blanket from the basket and spread it on the ground and she immediately claimed a spot, sitting cross legged on the blanket. This position raised the hem of her dress, clearly displaying her panties.

"Fried chicken, potato, oh, damn, wait a minute, you're not one of them weird ass vegans, huh?" Garrett asked, pulling the contents of the basket out.

"What? No. I love steak way too much ever be a vegan," Xaviera laughed.

Xaviera was nearly twenty minutes late returning from lunch. John smiled and shook his head as she clocked in.

"So? Is his hand print on..."John started to tease.

In answer, Xaviera raised the hem of her dress, flashing her employer her bare buttocks. There was a slight pinkness to the pale white hillocks of flesh. She smiled and grabbed the bottle of glass cleaner and a lint-free cloth.

"You know, I did that to you? It'd be sexual harassment," John said as she began cleaning fingerprints off the glass.

"You did that to me? It'd be assault," Xaviera said. "And my boyfriend? He's a lawyer."

Across the street, Garrett looked up as Brianna Walker stood in the doorway of his office. He raised an eyebrow.

"Natalie Broussard told me what you'd said in the elevator," Brianna said.

"Who?" Garrett asked.

"My ten thirty," Brianna said.

"Hmm? Oh! Melanie's mom?" Garrett asked.

"Melanie's mom," Brianna smiled.

"You need any help with that? Please, please don't hesitate to ask," Garrett said sincerely.

"Uh huh," Brianna said, shaking her head slightly.

He had a four o'clock appointment that actually kept him there until five forty. After the client left, Garrett logged his billable hours, feeling the resentment well up in his guts.

After he'd completed the task, Garrett checked his suit pockets, making sure he'd not misplaced anything. He'd accidentally left his Cartier pen behind once and a new hire on the cleaning crew had made sure to snatch it. But Roxanne, his sister, had engraved Garrett's initials into the barrel of the pen. The kid was arrested, and Glasspool, Dumont & Associates hired a new cleaning crew.

"Hmm?" Garrett asked, finding a scrap of cloth in his patch pocket.

"You little..." Garrett smiled, seeing Xaviera's red thong panties in his hand.

"Really?" Elizabeth shrilled as Garrett turned left, instead of right as he left his office.

"Really what? I'm going home," Garrett said. "This way? To the reception area, then to the lobby. That way, dead end."

Elizabeth did not, or would not catch the implication of Garrett's words. She folded her arms across her silicone breasts and regarded Garrett with cold eyes.

"So, just going run out of here? Uh, thought we were going announce our engagement this Friday?" Elizabeth snapped.

"Office," Garrett sighed, turning right.

Inside of Elizabeth's office, Garrett stood, regarding her low slung leather couch. Elizabeth perched herself on her office chair, waiting.

"This couch. You ever fuck on it?" Garrett asked, putting his briefcase down on one of Elizabeth's client chairs.

"I what?" Elizabeth asked, a hot blush coming to her face.

"So, you have. Client?" Garrett asked, a knowing smile coming to his lips.

"Garrett," Elizabeth barked, upset.

"Now, about our engagement," Garrett said, sitting on the other client chair in front of Elizabeth's desk. "You know, I just entered my billables for today. Three and a half hours. Four if you count what Holly did."

"I'm sure it does count," Elizabeth said.

"Mm-hmm," Garrett said. "I noted it. Only other person been here long as me is Jerome. And he has to submit his billables too."

"Our engagement?" Elizabeth snapped.

"Twelve years. Fourteen if you count my internship when it was Glasspool, Dumont, Fremin, Wagner," Garrett said.

"Okay, twelve years," Elizabeth said. "And this has what..."

"And when we marry, it's still going be Glasspool, Dumont & Associates. You'll still be Elizabeth Dumont and I'll still just be an associate. Never mind the fact that I've developed over fifty clients for this firm. Never mind the fact that I've put nearly seventy million dollars into this firm's coffers," Garrett continued.

"Our charter doesn't..." Elizabeth quickly said.

"What color are your panties?" Garrett asked.

"My what?" Elizabeth asked, surprised.

"Your panties. What color are they?" Garrett asked, getting to his feet.