Silence – utter silence.
Serena slowly sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. No doubt she will be relying heavily on her concealer this morning to cover up the purple-grey bags beneath her normally bright, blue eyes. Today was the day on which she would be meeting with Darien to draft the formal papers for him to present to Beryl, requesting a divorce. However, yesterday's events had stuck with Serena all night. As immoral as it would be, perhaps she had better not become tangled up on the wrong side of such an influential celebrity. Although Darien had the money, Beryl had the fame. Her previously-made threats were far from empty, as she would certainly have the power to make them come true. This thought had kept Serena tossing and turning all night and even now, two hours before she had to make a decision, she still did not have her solution. Deciding that she would need outside help, Serena picked up the phone on her bedside table.
"Hello, Molly speaking," said a chirping voice on the other end. Serena would never properly learn just how Molly could function at 7:00 AM. Even now, she still possessed her cool, receptionist's demeanor.
"I need help!" whined Serena. "You know how Beryl came up to us yesterday?"
"Yeah," Molly responded, her voice suddenly becoming much less cheerful. "That was such a horrible thing to do. To think that she would make you choose between your profession and your reputation! I swear, if I ever see her again –"
"Well," interrupted Serena. "The thing is, she does have the ability to do whatever she threatened to do. I mean, she's one of the biggest supermodels, ever! I went with Mina to this fashion show once, and I saw Beryl there, and she had to reserve practically half a section just for her posse!"
"Whatever, Serena," said Molly, consolingly. "Forget Beryl. This is your job, we're talking about! At the end of the day, your clients will still know who you are and really, what could Beryl do? I've seen her posse and next to none of them are married, so you will lose no potential clients if she turned against you."
"What about the papers, though?"
"Please, everyone famous is in the papers at least once. This is New York, for goodness sake!"
"So you think I should go through with it?"
"What's more important, a mean, pissed supermodel, or your job?"
"Yeah, thanks Molly."
"That's what I do."
After hanging up the phone, Serena felt relieved. Molly was right. What could Beryl possibly do? Much more confident after her conversation, Serena pulled herself out of bed, took a shower, and got dressed. After grabbing a quick breakfast consisting of a blueberry muffin, she headed out of her apartment to meet Darien. On the subway, she reflected upon her conversation with Molly, further noting the validity of her friend's advice, which further comforted her. Beryl was merely a spoilt witch who liked to frighten people with her celebrity. However, all evidence suggested that there would be no way for her to truly harm Serena. Worrying over her threat would only present her with more credit than she deserved.
"Last stop on Madison. All passengers please depart now."
Hopping off the subway, Serena jauntily walked up the stairs that led out of the station, joining the throngs of fellow New York commuters who were trekking through the busy urban jungle. The sky above was a bright light blue, glowing with beams of sunlight and streaked with lazy clouds. Along the sidewalk, street peddlers screeched noisily, competing with one another in order to sell their cheap wares to nearby tourists. Serena merely ignored the stalls, knowing that most of the items were either fake designer labels that would fall apart within a week, or worthless trinkets that would fall apart within a week. Her patent leather pumps clicked along the concrete. As she began to grow warm from the weather, Serena shrugged off her jacket and slipped on a pair of sunglasses. Personally, she hated wearing suits, but unfortunately, her law firm, as well as many others, required that she did so. As she stepped through the building's spinning door, a great wave of cold air rushed at her. Apparently, the maintenance staff wanted to freeze everyone to death with excessive air conditioning.
"Darien's waiting for you in your office," said Molly, clamping her hand on the phone she had been speaking into in order to hand Serena a beige-colored file. "Here are some more records."
Serena grabbed the envelope and gave a gracious wave to her friend. As she walked up to her office, she contemplated whether or not to tell Darien of Beryl's threat. He certainly deserved to know, but would this complicate the divorce even further? Although she did not wish to think herself selfish, Serena also had to admit that she possessed no desire to anger the supermodel more by making her soon-to-be ex-husband, whom she was still in love with, hold an additional grudge against her. Beryl posed no immediate danger to Serena, but if agitated enough, Serena had no doubt that she would be fully capable of fulfilling her threat. Reaching a decision, she pushed open the door to her office to find Darien Shields standing with his back facing her, looking intently at the line of plaques and newspaper clippings displayed along her wall.
"Hello, Mr. Shields," said Serena, calmly striding to her desk. Darien appeared to jump slightly at her words. Apparently, he had not heard her open the door.
"Mr. Shields? You're making me feel old," he joked. "I thought we agreed last time that you'd call me Darien, Ms. Tsukino."
Serena rolled her eyes and smiled. As she sank into her pink spin chair, she motioned for Darien to sit across from her, in either of the two seats reserved for clients. At her action, the young man promptly strolled over and sat down.
"Well," Serena began tentatively, glancing over the files she had just received from Molly. "After reviewing your pre-nup once again and comparing it to the net worth of both you and Beryl, I must regretfully inform you that you shall only receive $1 million dollars, due to the fact that at the present time, your total income is significantly higher than hers."
"Great," muttered Darien, his eyes clouded over with emotion.
"Well, with her spending history, and taking into account the fact that you make more than twice as much as she does, I'm sure that $1 million will barely be a problem on either side. Both of you will leave this divorce unscathed and will be able to continue with your lives."
"That's the problem!" shouted Darien, rising from his seat. "That witch screwed me over, and now she leaves without a scratch, while I'm left to bear the emotional burdens from her actions. As long as she can keep her precious material items, she will emerge with everything, while I lose what may possibly be my only chance at love and a family."
Upon completing this phrase, Darien broke down, burying his head within his hands and wrenching angrily at his disheveled raven locks. Serena became shocked, watching such a young, powerful, and wealthy man writhe in emotional agony. Any woman would give her own soul to the devil for a mere date with him, and yet here he was, near tears over one person – a person who had completely betrayed him, and yet, still held his heart. Serena shifted uneasily, her own inner conflict over whether or not to tell Darien about Beryl surfacing once more. The man certainly deserved to know that his wife was still in love with him, especially given the fact that he was currently having a mental breakdown in his lawyer's office. Serena had read articles about how CEOs have their midlife crises sooner than average men, due to their hectic and pressured lifestyles. The last thing she needed was to send Darien Shields over the edge. She was concerned with her own career, but not to the point that she would sacrifice another's happiness to save her own skin by keeping such a critical secret.
"Darien," Serena started hesitantly, "There's something –"
"You know what?" interrupted Darien, looking up at her with bloodshot eyes. "I don't need that wench. Even when we are about to be divorced, she still has the power to ruin my life, and do you know why? Because I am giving it to her! I need to go through with this divorce and forget about her. Let her stew in her own life. See if I care."
"Are you sure?" asked Serena. She could tell that Darien was clearly not in the right state of mind to follow his own advice. "I mean, I think you should –"
"Serena," interrupted Darien, sending an unknown feeling through Serena's spine at the sound of hearing him uttering her name. "I know what I am doing, and now I ask you, as my lawyer, to advise me on how to carry all this through as quickly and cleanly as possible."
Serena attempted a few more times to tell Darien about Beryl, but to no avail. The man may have been hurt, but he was still the typical stubborn businessman. The two spent the entire morning reviewing tax files, receipts, and other matters documented during the marriage. As Serena, exhausted, attempted to explain to Darien once again about different future situations involving child support, she heard a loud knock at her door.
"Hey, Serena!" said Molly, pushing the door open and jauntily strolling into the office. "It is now lunchtime and I refuse to let you work through…"
Molly trailed off awkwardly, her cheeks slowly becoming a pale pink at both the realization that her friend was not yet finished, and that fact that she had just made a fool of herself right in front of one of New York's most powerful men.
"I'm so sorry," she said, once she was finally able to move her jaw muscles, which had seemed to become paralyzed with embarrassment. "I didn't know that you weren't done yet."
"It's no problem at all," said Darien, smiling politely. "I wouldn't want to keep Serena from lunch. Perhaps if you two wouldn't mind, I could join you?"
"No, please," said Molly, her cheeks still flaming as she slowly backed out the door. "Do not go to any trouble on my account! You two go to lunch and finish your business. There's a group of people going out in a couple minutes and I can just tag along with them."
Molly immediately shuffled back out the door, closing it hurriedly behind her. Serena could not help but giggle at her friend's knack for getting herself into situations, then getting over-embarrassed about it. Truthfully, Serena would not have minded a third wheel, as the reason she and Darien took so long to conclude their meeting in the first place was because they always seemed to stray into light conversations. However, Molly had most likely already secured alternate lunch plans, due to her popularity within the office. Thus, after cleaning up the scattered files, Serena grabbed the beige envelope and headed out with Darien to "La Patisserie," the very same café she had been to with Molly the day before.
Serena giggled, sipping her chocolate iced latte, while Darien sat, cross-legged, holding a hot cup of plain, black coffee. Surprisingly, neither had brought up the divorce in the least, preferring to spend the appointment on more casual topics. At the current moment, they were discussing the merits of plain vs. flavored coffee.
"Black coffee is just so bitter and simple," argued Serena.
"Not bitter, but real," countered Darien, his nose turned up in a playfully haughty manner. "And not simple, but pure and untouched; when you buy coffee, you're not paying for something coated in sugar and syrup. Why not just buy a milkshake, or smoothie?"
"You are thinking too far into this," said Serena stubbornly, poking her tongue out at him. "When you buy coffee, you are paying to enjoy yourself. Whatever you drink should taste good, not make sense."
"What if making sense is part of what makes the coffee taste good?"
"Then you are a weirdo."
"A weirdo? That is so immature."
Serena laughed at the expression on Darien's face. Apparently, no one else had ever called the man such a childish name before – especially not a fellow professional. Serena slowly set down her latte and grabbed her white linen napkin to dab at the tears of mirth leaking from the corners of her blue eyes. Across the table, Darien's face glowed with laughter, Beryl's influence long forgotten.
Speaking of Beryl –
"Well, well," came the same unforgettable voice Serena still remembered from yesterday. "What do we have here?"
Beryl strolled up behind Darien, causing him to turn around and glare at her sharply. As usual, the supermodel was dressed to the nines; her red hair curled and arranged into a messy bun, with tiny ringlets left to hang loosely around her flawless face. The turquoise halter she wore was made of a silky material that fit her perfectly, with a black beaded strap that ran around her thin neck. Her jeans were embroidered with purple, blue and teal beads that shimmered in the afternoon sunlight. Looking down at the two, she gave a large, albeit false-looking, smile to Darien, and darted an evil glare at Serena.
"So," Beryl started. "Having some casual chat, I presume?"
"What are you doing here, Beryl?" asked Darien harshly. "Our business is of no concern to you."
"Well, assuming she is your divorce lawyer," responded Beryl sharply, pointing a manicured nail at Serena. "This would be my business. Unless, you two were not talking about the divorce."
"Stop being ridiculous, Beryl," Darien replied irritably, assuming a bored and uninterested expression. Judging purely from his countenance, Serena found it difficult to believe that just a couple hours ago he had been sitting in her office, struggling over the emotional roller coaster caused by the woman before him.
"Ridiculous!" responded Beryl, her eyes widening with shock and anger. "Don't you dare call me ridiculous! I was actually just passing by and what should I find but my husband and his divorce lawyer laughing and having a blast on a café patio. Now, what would I be expected to think, hm?"
Beryl ended her phrase with a suggestive raise of her eyebrow. She crossed her arms and jutted her hip out, staring down at Darien. Serena glanced across the table at her client and noticed that his hard expression had softened somewhat with an unknown emotion. Looking back at Beryl's triumphant face, Serena realized what the emotion was – fear. If Darien was caught with another woman before the divorce settlement, Beryl could somehow prove that he had been cheating on her all along, which would not only excuse her $1 million requirement, but may also necessitate higher child support payments from Darien in the future, regardless of who the father will be.
"Beryl, stop being so paranoid and irrational," Darien replied after a slight pause. His face had hardened to its previous, disinterested expression once again. "I know it must be hard for your mind to comprehend, but you were not the perfect wife and your shortcomings were precisely what made me seek this divorce. End of story."
"Fine," responded Beryl coolly, turning to walk away. After taking a few steps, the model pivoted rapidly to stare at Darien and Serena. "But know this, Darien. I will be keeping my lawyer up to date with anything I suspect between you and yours."
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Not a really exciting update, sorry. So far, I guess I've got this pattern rotation of exciting/non-exciting chapters going on. xD I say this because I have an idea for the next chapter that might just make up for the boringosity of this one. Anyways, thank you again for all your support!
Special thanks to my awesome chapter two reviewers:
Alexandria18, SilverDestiny10191, HermoineCrookshanks101, LynGreenTea, mysterious advisor, Kana07, Little Ler, serenity, daisy31, Roque Cherokee, Kawaii Usako, and a reviewer who was labeled as 'Anonymous'. ;)
Thanks again to you all! You've really made continuing with this story worth my time .:hugs:.