Passion Play

Rose smiled her relief. “That’s the plan.”

* * *

“I need a lawyer.” Donovan Carroll sat on the gray cushioned guest chair in Xavier Anderson’s office at Anderson Adventures. He balanced one of his company’s oversize coffee mugs on his right thigh. It was a match to the mugs Xavier and Tyler were using.

The tension that dropped into the room after his announcement was tangible. From behind his desk, Xavier’s gaze sprang from his mug to lock onto Donovan. In the matching seat beside him, Tyler, Xavier’s cousin, nearly choked on his coffee.

“Why do you need a lawyer?”

“What’s going on?”

Xavier and Tyler spoke at the same time. The concern in their voices was a reminder that, although he wasn’t related to the Andersons by blood or marriage, they’d accepted him as family since he’d first met the cousins in college.

It was just after 7:00 a.m. on the third Thursday in June. Anderson Adventures was quiet. Very few employees arrived this early. Xavier, the company’s vice president of finance, hadn’t been the same since his recent breakup with his girlfriend. The reason his five-month relationship ended probably disturbed Xavier more than the actual breakup. For that reason, he and Tyler had agreed to start their mornings with Xavier to show their support.

Donovan drew a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. The scent of strong coffee clung to the air. “A pawnshop is trying to move into one of the vacant storefronts in the same neighborhood where our shelters are located.”

In his life away from Anderson Adventures, Donovan, the company’s vice president of sales, served as president of the board of directors of Hope Homeless Shelter in downtown Columbus, Ohio.

Once his friends realized Donovan wasn’t in trouble, the tension dissipated.

“I’d read in the newspaper that Public Pawn had plans to expand its locations.” Xavier rolled up the sleeves of his dark blue jersey.

“I hadn’t realized the company had chosen its first expansion location.” Tyler drank more of his coffee.

“The board has been monitoring the pawnshop’s progress. The owner made the announcement at the end of the day, after news deadlines.” Donovan sighed. “We want a lawyer’s help writing and filing a statement with the Columbus City Council against the pawnshop moving into our neighborhood.”

“How much time do you have?” Tyler appeared calm in his dark brown polo shirt and tan Dockers. Usually the workaholic vice president of product development was itching to get back to work after ten minutes. But since he’d started dating Iris Beharie, Tyler had become more relaxed—and also more productive.

“Our response is due next month, the third week of July. We have four weeks to find a lawyer who can research, write and file our statement, all pro bono.” Piece of cake. Donovan’s natural wit failed to find the humor in this situation.

Xavier leaned back on his black leather executive chair. “Maybe our legal counsel has someone on staff who could help you.”

Donovan had considered contacting their legal counsel but then dismissed the idea. “The board can’t afford their rate, and I don’t want to ask them for any favors. That would compromise Anderson Adventures’ relationship with them in the future.”

Xavier’s dark eyebrows knitted. “What’s the shelter’s legal-aid budget?”

“It’s somewhere between zero and a prayer.” Donovan scrubbed his left hand over his face. “The shelter recently transferred its legal-aid funds into an operating account.”

“Wow.” Tyler arched his eyebrows. “It sounds like they were faced with tough budget choices—preserve a legal fund they may not need or pay immediate bills.”

“Exactly.” Donovan nodded. “Frankly, we need a lawyer who would represent us pro bono.”

Xavier exchanged a look with Tyler before meeting Donovan’s eyes. “That could prove difficult.”

“I know.” Donovan drummed his fingers against the arms of his chair as he scanned the room.

Like Tyler’s office, Xavier’s space was meticulous. Black three-ring program binders were arranged on the shelf above the desk behind him. On his back wall, project folders were neatly arranged in a black metal file sorter on top of a three-foot-tall cabinet.

“Didn’t you date a lawyer?” Tyler cocked his head as though searching his memory. “What was her name again?”

“Whitley Maxwell.” She was attractive, intelligent and shallow.

“Whitley, that’s right.” Tyler snapped his fingers. “Maybe you could ask her to help.”

“You’ve still got a lot to learn, Ty, if you think that would be a good idea.” Xavier snorted.

“We didn’t exactly part on good terms.” Donovan glanced at Tyler. Had he brought up Whitley in an effort to amuse Xavier? His smile was faint, but it was the first sign of levity his friend had shown in more than a week.

Tyler shrugged. “She’s a good lawyer and you know her.”

“You’re right.” It wasn’t that Whitley hadn’t crossed his mind. But he was reluctant to return to any sort of relationship with her, considering the way their relationship had ended. “But she may be more trouble than she’s worth.”

“Maybe she’s changed.” Tyler’s voice was pensive.

“Can people really change that much?” Xavier asked.

Donovan studied the other man. He sensed Xavier was thinking about his ex-girlfriend when he posed that question.

He turned back to Tyler. “I’ll see if the other board members have luck finding a lawyer to help us pro bono. If not, I’ll give Whitley a call.”

He hoped the other members had a long list of recommendations for legal representation. He’d much rather not have to reconnect with his ex-girlfriend.

* * *

Rose was the last of the four former law school classmates to arrive at the Ethiopian restaurant after work Friday evening. She wasn’t late. In fact, she was almost ten minutes early. What time had the others gotten off work?

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Rose offered the apology as she sat beside Maxine Ellerson in the booth.

“I just got here myself.” Maxine was the least neurotic of the three other women. Her neat, close-cut natural complemented her pixie, coffee features.

Rose’s companions had their drinks—a water, an iced tea and a lemonade. She waited as they gave their dinner requests to their waitress. The entire table ordered vegetable entrées, as usual. Rose was tempted to mix it up and order a meat dish. Instead she ordered the same thing she always did when they met once a month: the lentil salad, Azifa, and a glass of ice water with lemon.

While they waited for their dinners, Rose listened as the other lawyers brought each other up-to-date on personal and professional events. Maxine was a junior partner with a law firm not far from the restaurant in the Short North neighborhood. She’d been dating a chemist for the past several years. Tasha Smalls was unhappily married with two young children. She was legal counsel for a financial institution headquartered in downtown Columbus. Claudia Brentwood-Washington had her own practice in the suburbs, and never missed an opportunity to boast about her well-trained husband and prodigy daughter.

Why do I do this to myself? Rose’s gaze chased around the warm, vibrant colors of the restaurant’s traditional decor. The air was fragrant with exotic spices, well-seasoned meats and savory stews. Their dinner conversation always reminded Rose of everything she should have had. She wasn’t married. She wasn’t even dating anyone. She was happy with her job at the law firm, but she wanted more. Why am I here?

Their conversation was briefly interrupted as the server brought their entrées, then Rose returned her attention to her former classmates.

She’d met them during their first year at law school while attending a Black Student Union meeting. Despite their different backgrounds and personalities, they’d stayed in touch over the past ten years, mainly through emails and these once-a-month dinners.

Tasha shook her head, sending her long, thin braids over her shoulder. “Rose, I felt so sorry for you when I heard that Ben was added to your legislative update panel for our reunion. How are you holding up?”

That didn’t take long.

Rose lifted her eyes to hold Tasha’s dark gaze. There was a time when she would have believed the innocent expression on the other woman’s round, nutmeg face. But now she recognized the satisfied glint in Tasha’s eyes. “Ben and I were over a long time ago.”

“What are you going to do?” Claudia always looked as though she’d just walked out of a salon. How could she maintain a solo practice, care for her family and look perpetually perfect?