Chapter 3

The following Saturday, I was supposed to be meeting a client for a quick consultation at a cafe near Horton Plaza.

As I walked past a high-end boutique, I saw them.

Mark and Jessie.

He was holding a ridiculously expensive designer handbag, the kind that cost more than my car's down payment. Fifteen thousand dollars, the price tag still visible.

Jessie was beaming, clinging to his arm.

I remembered last month, asking Mark for three hundred dollars for a new suit for court. He' d sighed, talked about tight finances, about how Jessie needed help with her rent.

He spotted me. Guilt flashed across his face, quickly replaced by defensiveness. Jessie saw me too, her smile turning into a saccharine, concerned frown.

"Sarah! What are you doing here?" Mark said, his voice a little too loud. "Shouldn't you be focusing on Jessie' s legal troubles? She' s really counting on you."

Jessie nodded, her eyes wide and "vulnerable."

"Oh, Sarah, Mark told me you were going to help. I' m so scared about my ex."

I pulled the folded papers from my briefcase. The petition.

"I have the papers ready, Mark. For the separation."

His face lit up. Pure, unadulterated joy. For Jessie.

"That's fantastic! See, Jess? I told you Sarah would come through!" He turned to me, beaming. "Let's go file them right now. I'll drive you to the county courthouse. We can get this done today!"

He practically skipped to his car, urging me along. Jessie blew him a grateful kiss.

In the car, he couldn't stop talking about how relieved Jessie would be, how this was the first step to her new, happy life.

At the courthouse, he insisted on taking the papers from me.

"Let me do it. This is a big moment for Jessie."

He strode proudly to the clerk's window, didn't even glance at the names on the front page, and handed over the petition.

"Filing for divorce," he announced, puffing his chest out a little.

The clerk stamped them.

Mark turned to me, grinning. "Done! Jessie' s free!"

He seemed to float on air.

"We should celebrate," he said, as we walked back to the car. "Jessie's been wanting to try that new scuba diving spot off La Jolla. As a thank you, from me, for helping her. You should come too."

An invitation to celebrate his mistress' s supposed freedom, a freedom he had just personally initiated against himself.

The irony was thick enough to choke on.

"Sure, Mark," I said. "Sounds like fun."