Chapter 4

Jason’s POV

It was midday when Jason's driver took him to the apartment where Katie was living and soon would be leaving. They parked just some distance from the house. In the backseat of his car, he relaxed with an expensive bottle of wine.

It was a little too early in the day for drinking, wasn't it? He thought. Well, his misdeed was about to pay off, so he just might get more reckless. After all, he wasn't the one doing the driving.

Jason imagined Katie in the bedroom, living room, or wherever she was inside the house. He assumed Trish might be in there, too. Suddenly, the show began.

A man in baggy jeans and a dull-looking yellow top banged at the door. "Christ, not so violently!" Jason wanted to yell, but he simply scoffed.

Katie opened the door, her face looking like a meteorite about to crash into the man's face. Jason watched as they talked. The landlord had his hands in a demonstration in the air.

He pushed Katie aside, and Jason tensed, but instead of getting out to help her, he simply gulped more wine. Take it or leave it; he wanted Katie out of this apartment, and he wasn't going to change his mind at the last minute, no matter the approach with which he accomplished the goal.

Exactly as he had predicted, Trish had stepped out onto the front lawn. She was indeed with Katie. She appeared to be making a phone call.

She kept staring towards Jason's car, and when the recognition hit her, she immediately grabbed a hold of Katie's arm. She pointed towards the car, and it was then that Jason rolled down the window.

He wanted her to take a good look at him. He tilted the wine glass in her direction as if to say cheers and then gulped the remaining crystal liquid.

Her face was no longer a mass meteorite ball; no, now it was redesigned with a look of 'how can you?' Then, suddenly, she became infuriated again, and she was about to walk up to him.

Jason made sure she saw him laugh at her before telling the driver to speed up. For a measly one hundred thousand dollars, he had bought the apartment Katie was leaving.

He was sure by now she would have gotten that information. She could come live with him or come crawling to him, begging for her home back, but he knew not even in his wildest dreams would it have happened.

Jason played golf on the weekends, and he was at the golf course. He wheeled his golf cart about the perfectly manicured lawn. He was on his way to meet his buddy Michael, who was playing too.

"Hey, Jason," Michael said, holding up his golf club. On the ground rested a tiny white ball. He took a swing at the ball, and it flew. Immediately, he shielded the reflection of the sun with his left palm placed over his eyes as he watched for the ball's landing.

"Nice shot, Mike. I bet your improvement is a result of your wife leaving your ass," Jason said in a friendly manner.

"Heh? You're just jealous because you couldn't get that girl at your office to stay with you. What's her name again?"

"You see, you don't even know which girl," Jason said, laughing. "Forget it. I'm never reminding you of her name. You see, Mike, in law, your statement would count for nothing if you don't have all the facts right."

"Well, whatever, so how did it go during the week?" Michael asked, preparing himself for another shot. The previous one was so close to entering the hole.

"Forget about what happened during the week, man. I bought Katie's house today, and the landlord just had someone throw her out," Jason said, then realized he had a slippery tongue.

Michael laughed at him before saying, "So Katie, it is. I'm never forgetting that. Woah, damn, that's kind of harsh, Jay. Where would she live?"

"Normally, I would have called her to come to stay at my place, but she's a real bad bitch; she'd rather stay with Trish."

"Screw that man! Now you're making rhymes on purpose. You'd never call Katie a bitch."

The both of them laughed. Mike swung his club effortlessly towards the ball, and it launched in the upward direction.

The ball cut across a certain trajectory in the air. It landed right into the hole, and Michael shook his friend excitedly. He left Jason and did a celebratory dance.

"Mhm yup, that's what happens when your wife leaves your ass," Jason said. He wasn't exactly sure how this sentence made any sense. He was jealous that Michael had started to beat him in golf; that's all.

"It's such a shame that your bitch doesn't come crawling to you when you call, huh?" said Michael after calming down. "Does Katie know you're screwing with Trish? Mehn, you gotta stop being so damn lucky with these women."

"That's ill-advised, you fool! How can you say I have to stop being lucky? Anyways, it's certain she'll come to me if not to beg but to rant."

"Yeah, money got the world spinning at your feet, Jason. Use it well. If I were you, I'd buy Katie," said Michael.

"What do you mean, Mike?"

"And you call yourself a lawyer. Find a way to arrange for her to marry you through a contract if she won't do it out of love."

Jason's face lit up like a bulb, you know, like that particular bulb that lights up when you get a bright idea.

He threw his golf club to the ground and placed a hand over Michael's shoulder, saying, "You know, my friend, you're not exactly useless. Once in a while, you talk some smart shit, and I wonder which alien whispered it to you."

"Fuck you, Jay," Mike said, removing his friend's hand and laughing. "Fuck you because I knew you are a sick fuck and would totally buy the idea. You have no shame with methods so long as you get the desired results."