there much, if you catch the drift. No steady boyfriend since she broke up with a basketball star last year, least not what her flat mates know of.”
“Anything else?”
“She’s an orphan.”
“What?”
“She’s an orphan. Her moms died when she was still in diapers, her pops died last year. And every now and then, ever since her pops died, she just goes off and cries.”
“Come on, Phil. What am I supposed to do with that?”
“I thought you should know, is all.”
“You like her.”
“I been keeping my distance like you wanted, never spoke to her once.”
“But you’re sweet on her all the same.”
“Yeah, maybe I am. But not in the way you’re thinking. I spent some time with her mates. Nice girls, though two beers and they can’t stop their yapping. But Kimberly, she was working that night, like she works almost every night. Like she worked her way through a college that was too hard for her, like she worked her way into this job that ain’t like any job a girl like her should grab hold of. You get a sense of a girl giving her the tail. Our Kimberly, she’s been in over her head every day of her life and she keeps going on, doesn’t she?”
“Except when she’s home crying.”
“There you go. Anything else you want?”
“Not just yet, Phil. But keep your phone on, I sense I’m going to need you sooner rather than later.”
Today Kimberly Blue was wearing a different version of her corporate outfit, this one bright red, with matching pumps and lipstick. Very nice. She smiled when she saw me, but I gestured her to wait for a moment.
Rashard Porter was standing behind my secretary, Ellie, as she typed out his application to the Philadelphia College of Art.
“How’s it going?” I said.
Ellie looked up, seemingly exasperated. “He keeps changing his answers.”
“They got more questions than the probation lady,” said Rashard. “I mean my address and high school stuff is no problem, but like this here. They want to know why I want to go to art school. Should I tell them the truth, Mr. Carl? I don’t think they want to hear the truth, being that the truth is me liking the idea ofspending the day staring at naked ladies and needing to get in to keep my butt out of jail.”
“Except that’s not the real truth, is it?”
“It isn’t?”
“If you could do anything with your life, what would you do?”
“Blow dope and play X-Box?”
“Really?”
“Nah, man.”
“So then tell them what you really want to do. And tell them why. Tell them about the newspaper thing you did at the high school. From what I understand, with these places the most important thing is your portfolio.”
“Mine’s like a piece-of-crap cardboard thing.”
“Not what it’s made of, Rashard, what’s inside of it. I’ve seen your stuff. You’ll do all right. Just be sure to show them your best. Keep at it, but I have a meeting.”
With that I nodded at Kimberly Blue and led her into my office.
Chapter
15
S HE DROPPED INTO a chair, pulled at the hem of her skirt, straightened the fabric on her lap, removed the stenographic pad from her leather portfolio. We chatted a bit, about the weather, about the city, about law school. She had been thinking about law school, she said, before she got a job as a vice president. “Now, being a lawyer would be a step down, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “So, where were we?”
She glanced at her pad. “You want me to start the whole thing over again, beginning with the card? Have you seen my card?”
“Yes I have. It’s quality, for sure.”
“It is, isn’t it? Did you notice that the printing is raised?”
“Yes, I noticed. Why don’t we begin where we left off in the courthouse. You said you had a case for me.”
“Yes, yes, okay. Okay. Here it is.” She calmed herself, looked at her pad, and then punched her fist in the air like a peewee soccer coach exhorting her troops. “Victor, we need for you, Victor, to collect
“Anything else?”
“She’s an orphan.”
“What?”
“She’s an orphan. Her moms died when she was still in diapers, her pops died last year. And every now and then, ever since her pops died, she just goes off and cries.”
“Come on, Phil. What am I supposed to do with that?”
“I thought you should know, is all.”
“You like her.”
“I been keeping my distance like you wanted, never spoke to her once.”
“But you’re sweet on her all the same.”
“Yeah, maybe I am. But not in the way you’re thinking. I spent some time with her mates. Nice girls, though two beers and they can’t stop their yapping. But Kimberly, she was working that night, like she works almost every night. Like she worked her way through a college that was too hard for her, like she worked her way into this job that ain’t like any job a girl like her should grab hold of. You get a sense of a girl giving her the tail. Our Kimberly, she’s been in over her head every day of her life and she keeps going on, doesn’t she?”
“Except when she’s home crying.”
“There you go. Anything else you want?”
“Not just yet, Phil. But keep your phone on, I sense I’m going to need you sooner rather than later.”
Today Kimberly Blue was wearing a different version of her corporate outfit, this one bright red, with matching pumps and lipstick. Very nice. She smiled when she saw me, but I gestured her to wait for a moment.
Rashard Porter was standing behind my secretary, Ellie, as she typed out his application to the Philadelphia College of Art.
“How’s it going?” I said.
Ellie looked up, seemingly exasperated. “He keeps changing his answers.”
“They got more questions than the probation lady,” said Rashard. “I mean my address and high school stuff is no problem, but like this here. They want to know why I want to go to art school. Should I tell them the truth, Mr. Carl? I don’t think they want to hear the truth, being that the truth is me liking the idea ofspending the day staring at naked ladies and needing to get in to keep my butt out of jail.”
“Except that’s not the real truth, is it?”
“It isn’t?”
“If you could do anything with your life, what would you do?”
“Blow dope and play X-Box?”
“Really?”
“Nah, man.”
“So then tell them what you really want to do. And tell them why. Tell them about the newspaper thing you did at the high school. From what I understand, with these places the most important thing is your portfolio.”
“Mine’s like a piece-of-crap cardboard thing.”
“Not what it’s made of, Rashard, what’s inside of it. I’ve seen your stuff. You’ll do all right. Just be sure to show them your best. Keep at it, but I have a meeting.”
With that I nodded at Kimberly Blue and led her into my office.
Chapter
15
S HE DROPPED INTO a chair, pulled at the hem of her skirt, straightened the fabric on her lap, removed the stenographic pad from her leather portfolio. We chatted a bit, about the weather, about the city, about law school. She had been thinking about law school, she said, before she got a job as a vice president. “Now, being a lawyer would be a step down, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “So, where were we?”
She glanced at her pad. “You want me to start the whole thing over again, beginning with the card? Have you seen my card?”
“Yes I have. It’s quality, for sure.”
“It is, isn’t it? Did you notice that the printing is raised?”
“Yes, I noticed. Why don’t we begin where we left off in the courthouse. You said you had a case for me.”
“Yes, yes, okay. Okay. Here it is.” She calmed herself, looked at her pad, and then punched her fist in the air like a peewee soccer coach exhorting her troops. “Victor, we need for you, Victor, to collect
Similar Books
