In Search Of Dreams

Episode 18

Rob looks at his watch. 4:45. I hope
everything’s going okay for her. He had wanted
to see Lori when she arrived for her 3:30
appointment with Geoffrey, and only realized
that he missed her when he looked up at the
clock and saw that it was 3:42. He’d been
closed up in his office for the last hour, reading
up on other wrongful death cases, particularly
ones involving workplace accidents, and found
that he was inexplicably irritated with himself
for missing her.

I am not a stalker. I am not a stalker. Rob
strolls down the corridor, looking like he’s got a
purpose. When he passes Geoffrey’s closed
door, he frowns at it.

What the hell is my problem, anyway?

Just then Geoffrey’s door opens, and Rob’s
eyes are drawn like a moth to flame.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Morton, I can’t tell
you how much I appreciate the help you’ve
given my brother and me,” Lori is saying.

“Just doing my job, Miss Thompson,” Geoffrey
says. “Ah, Rob, I believe you know Miss
Thompson.”

“Indeed I do,” Rob says. “Hello, Loretta.”

“Hi, Robert” she greets him, clutching a thick
folder to her chest. “Thank you again for
recommending I see Mr. Morton. He’s just made
Elliot’s and my life a whole lot easier.”

“Just a little creative rearranging. We
consolidated some things, transferred some
other things. Simple,” Geoffrey says.

“For you, maybe,” Rob says. “I’m just headin’
out to Gareth’s to meet with Percy. I’ll walk
you out.”

Geoffrey nods and withdraws to his office.

“Is Gareth’s your second office now?” Lori
asks.

“I don’t like staying here late. Have you been to
Gareth’s? I know Elliot has.”

“Yes, he’s been there, but he’s never bothered
to invite me along,” Lori says.

“You should come out sometime. I know Marcus
would love for you to hear him play.”

“I would like to hear Marcus play,” she says,
waiting as Rob ducks into his office to grab a
couple things.

“If you’re not doing anything now, why don’t you
come along with me?” he asks softly.

She stops walking. “Robert I can’t be goin’ to no
tavern with a white man. I know you don’t have
any intentions, but other people don’t know
that.”

Rob presses his lips together. I can’t believe I
didn’t even think of that. “Of course, you’re right.

I’m sorry, Loretta, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s all right, Rob, I know. Tell you what. Next
time Elliot goes, I’ll tag along, and maybe I’ll
see you.” They start walking again.

“Fair enough.”

They exit into the lobby. “Good night, Mr.
Carter,” Vivian practically sings after them.

“Oh, good night, Miss Thompson,” she adds,
almost an afterthought.

“Vivian,” Rob says, hardly glancing her way.

“Good night, Vivian,” Lori says pleasantly,
smiling at her.

Outside, Lori smirks at him. “Your receptionist
is sweet on you.”

“What? Vivian?”

“Lord, you didn’t see the eyes she was makin’ at
you when you walked past? ‘Good night, Mr.
Carter,'” she sings, mocking Vivian’s tone
exactly.

Rob laughs. “No…”

“Yes! She blushes every time she talks to you. I
saw it the first time I came here.”

Rob shrugs.

“You ain’t interested? She’s very pretty.”

“If you like that type,” he says noncommittally.

“You don’t?”

“That’s irrelevant,” he says, a little too hastily.

“She works for my father, for one. Second, well,
she’s kind of an idiot. And spoiled.”

“Spoiled?”

“She doesn’t need to work at all. Her daddy
made her get a job because he’s afraid some
man is going to lead her astray and, I don’t
know, ruin her or something. He figures if she’s
trapped behind a desk all day she can’t get
herself into trouble. I reckon.”

“What does he do with her at night? Lock her in
a tower?”

Lori laughs. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“This your car?” he points to a large green
Chevy Impala parked by the curb.

“It was Daddy’s,” she says. “It’s a bit big for me,
but I don’t have much choice.”

Lori nods.

“You’re gonna be late for Percy,” she says.

“Oh, yeah. Right. I’ll call you if I have any news
from the meeting,” he says, watching her stand
there in the sunlight, still holding the folder to
her chest. Idly wishing somewhere in the back
of his brain that he was that folder.

“All right. Have a good night, Rob,” she says,
walking around to unlock her door.

“You, too.”