A Game of Good and Evil? (Part 1 0f 4)

Royal-Elites to Angel-Saints—Demons, too!

 

Punching the disconnect button on his fancy, state-of-the-art “Celeb No. 7i” newest version of the “modern” talk box, William angrily tossed the contraption onto the passenger-side leather seat of his premier foreign chariot, disgust on his “needing-a-shave” face and patently obvious in his pernicious, impatient actions. What he mumbled under his breath? Well! God! Forgive him.

He had hung up on Larry Summers down at the bank---his bank. Didn’t that idiot, who only got to be vice-president because his old man was on the board of directors, know who William was? He handled the largest real estate deals in town; his own money was on deposit there, too.

“Well!” He salved his wounded ego, “For now it is, ole Larry-boy.” William scowled. “Turn down a loan on one of my deals? You rotten scum-sucker!” His anger surged.

This convoluted divorce from Antoinette, his failed fourth try at marriage, was about to ruin him. Now, his “big” deal with the New York tycoon had hit a snag; he might lose everything.

Young, and beautiful, Antoinette wanted half---of everything! After only two years of wedded bliss! Yeah, sure! Two years of---Hell! He had a pre-nuptial agreement---but…Lawyers!

“She must be spending a lot of private time with that shark-breath lawyer she hired,” he surmised, getting angrier as he drove. Because of that insufferable demon-temper, William missed an opportunity for challenge with, yet, another lovely. A red sports car convertible, this one American with a “pony” emblem in the center rear panel, pulled alongside him as the driver down-shifted and revved the roaring engine which reverberated with a deep growl. Looking over, William caught sight of a long, tsmooth, tanned thigh enticing him. As he stared, appreciatively, the driver accelerated and swerved into his lane, cutting him off.

“Damn!” He swore, offering the horn and an impolite gesture; the blonde babe waved back and kept going. If his anger had subsided, even just a little bit, he might have gotten the license number. “Nice lines,” he allowed. “Wouldn’t mind sighting that little filly’s emblem from behind, any time.” He laughed, “That white cowgirl hat sure was a nice touch, too!”

If William lucked out with half of the divorce pie, he considered, getting back to the real world as he put the blonde out of his mind, sort of, he’d still be deep in debt with a huge attorney’s bill. Both lawyers knew his predicament as he had provided all the financial statements; they didn’t care. Why should they? These vultures delighted in preying on poor victims like William; you might think it was all his fault. Damn! Antoinette was half his age; immature; didn’t she have, at least, a modicum of culpability for their marital disaster?

He must make a decision as to which he despised the most: Mendacious Money-merchants, Lying Leper-Lawyers or Gold-grabber gals. A very tough assignment. Indeed!

 

(Part 2 of 4 tomorrow)