Prelude

Although I had been in Michael’s office a dozen times and spent countless hours with him and his staff, today I had felt like a stranger. For the first time I understood how it felt to be on the other side of the desk. The humiliation, the nagging fear, the uncertainty-all had been difficult to bear. If somehow I survived this ordeal I certainly would have more empathy for my clients. Oh God, would I!

I opened the front door of my Mercedes and fell into the seat. My head was throbbing. Why was this happening? I laughed. "That’s a good one. You let it happen, you fool. You know God damn well you did. You let yourself fall into Erica’s little trap." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath while I massaged the back of my neck. It didn’t help.

On the drive home my melancholy began to fade in anticipation of being with Erica. No matter what she had put me through or what pain there was yet to endure, it was all worth it as long she was mine. Somehow we’d get all this behind us. We had to, there was no other alternative. At least, that’s what I thought.

When I got home Erica was sitting on the sofa obviously upset. Her eyes were red and swollen and she had a box of Kleenex in her lap. When she saw me she jumped up, ran over and embraced me. After a second I pushed her back a little so I could see her face.

"What happened?" I asked.

She walked a few steps away. "Robert called me to let me know he had been over to the DA's office to look at the evidence they’ve gathered so far."

'Un huh."

"Well, he said they had lab reports that showed cotton fibers and down under my fingernails and on my nylons. He says the police are excited about it because they don't think the particles could have got there unless I held the pillow over Martha's face. . . . Oh, Rich! I'm going to be convicted. What am I going to do?"

"What does Robert think?" I asked.

"He wasn't pleased with the reports," she said. "He tried to downplay their significance but I could tell he was upset."

"Damn. . . . Think back. How in the hell did you get those fibers under your fingernails?"

"I know exactly how it happened. When I got to Aunt Martha’s apartment I didn't know that she was dead, so when I saw her lying there on the floor I went to her. There was a pillow next to her with a big rip in it. The down and fibers inside the pillow were everywhere. I picked it up and tossed it out of the way. Then I shook her hoping she would wake up. It's no wonder they found the fibers under my fingernails."

"That makes perfect sense to me. I'm sure the jury will believe you."

"No, they won't," she moaned. "They're still going to think I did it."

I went to her and wrapped my arms around her. "No they won't, honey. I'm sure they will believe you."

She pulled away. "But what if they don't? . . . Oh, God. . . . I'm screwed!"

"No you're not, don't even talk like that. It's a perfectly good explanation."

She looked up at me, tears running down her checks. "Why did this have to happen? . . . Why doesn't everyone just leave us alone? We were so happy? It's not fair!"

I took Erica back in my arms. She cried for several minutes. I wiped away her tears and began massaging her shoulders hoping to make her feel better. When she had calmed down, we went into the kitchen and I sat down at the table while she removed a roast from the oven. She sat it on the counter and began cutting it up. The table had been carefully set and several candles were burning. Then I noticed my glass filled with a red liquid.

"What's this?" I said as I held up the glass.

Erica turned and took a casual look at the glass and said, "Kool Aid."

A chill darted down my spine and radiated quickly throughout my legs. "What?"

She turned away from me. "Kool Aid, it was on sale. You like Kool Aid, don't you?"

I glared at her. She turned around, gave me a disturbed look and then replied, "Don't worry, I haven't found anyone who sells cyanide yet."

I stood up and threw my napkin on the table. "Jesus Christ! Erica, what is wrong with you. You've got to pull yourself out of this depression. You're not going to be convicted."

She look at me earnestly. "But, if I am convicted will you . . . will you drink with me?"

"Erica, for godsakes, cut it out!" I said and took the glasses of Kool Aid and dumped them in the sink.

"Don’t you understand! I'd rather die than live without you." . . . "Don't you feel the same way?"

I looked at her in silence. Finally I said, "Of course, but suicide's not the answer. I’m not ready to die . . . and I don’t want to lose you. Besides, we would both end up in hell if we killed ourselves. Is that what you want?"

She laughed and turned away. She picked up the knife and turned it, watching the light glisten off the steel blade. "Do you really think there is a heaven and a hell? . . . I don't think so. When we die it's just over. We don't go anywhere, we just fade into oblivion."

I was appalled at what I was hearing. Erica had always professed being a good Catholic. I rushed over to her and jerked her around so I could look her in the eyes and scold her. "You've never told me you felt that way. Your depression is poisoning your mind. God is out there and he'll help us get through this. I know he will."

She looked up at me with a empty stare. "Won't it be a wonderful display of our love to die in each other's arms?"

"No! Not at all. People will just think we’re crazy. "

She put her arms around me and nestled her head on my shoulder. "Of course, I'd much rather have a long life together but if that's not our fate then, at least, we can die together."

I began to cry. "Oh, Jesus, honey. You’re losing it. I’m going to get you help. . . . Don’t worry, I’ll find you a good psychiatrist. Everything will be alright. I promise you."

Erica looked up at me with an eerie smile. "It's no use, honey. There’s nothing you can do. . . . You know I always get my way."

One

So, how did I get myself into such a bizarre predicament? Well, it all started in January 1979, the same day the Shah of Iran was forced to flee from the country he had ruled for thirty-eight years. I remember listening to the news reports of his departure on my way to work and wondering what impact it would have on oil prices. I had been a finance major in college and liked to think I knew something about stocks and commodities. In fact, a group of us at UCLA had formed a fantasy investment club which we called the Wall Street Wizards. We used to meet twice a week to discuss market trends and strategies. Then we'd all make fantasy purchases and keep track of how they did. We would have preferred to make actual trades but none of us had extra money. Coming from middle class families, just making enough money for tuition and expenses each semester was a major chore. Law school was even worse. I managed to rack up nearly seventy-five thousand dollars in student loans in those three years.

According to my calculations, though, had I actually made all of the trades that I had carefully noted in my journal, I would have made roughly 62 percent on my money. Starting with just a modest investment of $10,000, I figured I could have had nearly $300,000 on the day I graduated from SMU Law School. Everyone told me when I actually started investing it would be different but I couldn’t imagine why.

The office was dark when I stepped out of the elevator precisely at seven. Since Paula's death a year earlier I usually didn't linger around the apartment in the morning. Given any amount of idleness I would invariably daydream about her and end up with a bad case of melancholy. It also made sense to go in early since traffic was much lighter. Traffic jams tended to induce daydreaming too, so I tried hard to avoid them. I know it sounds like I needed therapy but I was actually getting along okay, at least I thought I was.

After picking the Wall Street Journal off the floor and unlocking the door, I turned on the lights and looked at the big letters on the wall that spelled out Rogers, Phillips & Coleman, P.C., Attorneys at Law. It's not that I was an ego freak or anything but I did get a little twinge in my stomach each morning when I saw that sign. During law school I had clerked for a large Dallas law firm and had been awed by how the firm's partners were treated. Their time was so precious that no one dared interrupt them unless it was a matter of utmost importance. Most of them wielded enormous power and they all pulled down incredible salaries. But of all the partners only a few had their names as part of the firm's official title. This was the epitome of success. I prayed someday I'd reach that lofty position. My prayers were answered more quickly than I could have ever expected.

During law school I had a job selling life insurance for Prudential Life Insurance Company. It was the only job I could find at the time. They gave me extensive training in estate planning and marketing which proved to be invaluable once I graduated. The small firm of Rogers and Phillips hired me to handle their client's estate planning needs but when I discovered they didn't have a marketing plan I volunteered to develop one for them. It was a brash move on my part since I knew little about marketing a law firm, but I figured something was better than nothing.

After careful thought, it occurred to me that the problem with lawyers was that most clients would only come in to see them when they were in trouble or thought trouble was lurking on the horizon. Obviously going to the lawyer under these circumstances was dreaded and avoided if at all possible. Consequently it was not uncommon for a client to see his attorney but once or twice during his lifetime, if he were lucky. I had to do something about that. My plan envisioned bringing clients into the firm's offices on a regular basis so that a close relationship with them could be developed. Being very familiar with the attorneys in the firm, they wouldn't be reluctant to call us if the need arose. We brought them in for parties, seminars or just to ask for their advice on how to better serve them. The clients loved being pampered and consequently the marketing plan was a big success. It was so successful, in fact, I was made a partner in less than three years.

After stopping by the kitchen for some coffee I headed for my office where I sat down and began scanning the financial section of the paper. Unfortunately I still hadn't accumulated any money to invest. With big monthly payments on my student loans, the wedding, the unexpected funeral, food, clothing and auto insurance to name just a portion of the outflows of cash, I was doing well just to break even. I took a deep breath and contemplated the bonus that had been promised me once I made partner. Thirty-five thousand dollars was a lot of money, more money than I could imagine having at one time. It didn't seem possible that in less than ten days I'd have it in the bank. Soon I could discard my fantasy portfolio of securities and actually play for real.

At eight o'clock I was glad to hear my secretary, Suzie Hoffman, rummaging around in her desk. I needed a cup of coffee and I knew she'd be bringing me one soon. Suzie was a great secretary. Not only was she competent and dependable but she was always in a good mood, laughing and joking about everything and everybody. It was hard to be depressed around her because she was always smiling and would invariably have me laughing at her silly jokes and antics. I can't imagine how I'd have survived that first year after Paula's death without her. Suzie walked into my office gingerly carrying a cup of coffee so as not to spill it.

"Hi Boss," She said. She wasn’t a women’s libber like some of the girls in the office, thank God. I liked being pampered. We chatted a minute, like we did everyday, until it was time to get down to business.

"So, what's on tap today?" I asked.

"Oh, you don't know? Today's your lucky day, Franklin Fox is coming in to see you at nine."

"Who's he?"

"He's an old client, a high roller who blew his daddy's fortune. He acts like he's a billionaire but I seriously doubt he's even solvent."

"I take it by the tone of your voice you don't like him much?" I said.

"Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mind having his children. He's a great looking guy, but he's a little on the flaky side."

I laughed. "If he's a typical rich kid, he probably doesn't appreciate money or have a clue how to make it."

"Well he does know how to spend it. You may end up doing his bankruptcy one of these days."

"So what am I doing for him today?"

"He needs to do some estate planning. We did his divorce last year and he's just finally getting around to changing his will and setting up a trust for his daughter."

"Oh, part of the divorce settlement?"

"No. He got custody of his daughter," Suzie said.

"That's unusual."

"I don't remember exactly what happened but I don't think Carmen asked for custody."

"Why did they get a divorce?" I asked.

"Franklin came from a rich family and Carmen was poor. She was a waitress at Franklin's country club, if you can believe that. That's where they met. From what I heard, she never fit in. Franklin's family did everything they could to sabotage the marriage. Divorce was inevitable."

"Do we have financials on him?" I asked.

"Sure, we have his divorce inventory, but it's a year old and whether or not he listed everything is anybody's guess."

'Well, it will be a start. Bring it to me."

Suzie left and I started searching my form files for an estate planning questionnaire. When she returned with the file, I began to look through it and started transferring information onto the questionnaire. According to the divorce inventory Mr. Fox had separate property of about a half million dollars which I assumed was left from his inheritance. Community assets had been sparse consisting of a little equity in a homestead, household furnishings and a couple cars. Besides losing custody of her daughter, Carmen got little from the divorce. It seemed a little odd so I decided to go talk to one of my partners, Peter Phillips, about it. It was already eight forty-five so I hurried down the hall to Peter's office. Peter was reading a letter when I walked in. We exchanged greetings.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm seeing an old client of yours this morning, Franklin Fox."

"Oh really? To change his will I hope."

"Right."

"He should have done that a year ago. Be sure he changes the beneficiary on his life insurance too. I think his ex-wife is still listed on the policy," Peter said.

"I'll check into that, but what I was curious about was the divorce. I know you're a great attorney but poor Carmen didn't get a dime. Is there something I should know?"

He thought a moment and then said, "Yes . . . if I remember correctly, Carmen got pissed off one day because she found out about one of Franklin's affairs. Shortly after that, she took off without letting anyone know where she was going. After searching for her for some time, Franklin finally gave up and filed for divorce. Not knowing where she was we, got service by publication. Since she obviously didn't show up for the trial, we got a default."

"How can a parent just up and leave like that?" I said.

"You’ve got me. It was all kind of bizarre, totally unexpected."

"Did she say goodbye or give anyone any indication that she was leaving?"

"No," Peter said.

"Huh. . . . Suzie was saying Franklin got some big inheritance from his mother and father, but I only saw maybe a half a million in assets and quite a bit of debt on his financial statement. Is there a trust or foundation or something that didn't show up in the divorce inventory?"

"No, he inherited about four million but most of it's gone. Franklin's got some bad habits, gambling, women, expensive cars, to name a few. I think he even sponsored a NASCAR racing team at one time."

"Oh God. No wonder he's broke," I laughed. "I think I've got a handle on it now."

"Have Franklin come back and say hello when you're done," Peter said.

As I was walking back to my office, I noticed a middle aged man and a pretty young girl in the waiting room. When I went by Suzie's desk she advised me it was Mr. Fox and his daughter, Erica. After putting on my coat and straightening my desk, I told Suzie to show them in. I got up and went to the door. Erica walked in, surveyed the office and then smiled at me. She was a knockout in her maroon plaid skirt and white cotton blouse. Franklin followed right behind her and extended his hand. Suzie made the introductions and after a little chit chat we got down to business.

"So, I understand we need to do a little estate planning?" I said.

"Yes, Peter told me to come in six months ago but I've just been too busy," Franklin said. "Erica and I are going skiing in Switzerland next week so I thought it would be smart to get my affairs in order, you know, for Erica's sake."

"Yes, it's a good idea to review everything periodically, especially after a divorce. Where in Switzerland are you going?"

"Zermatt," Franklin said.

"Oh, I've never been there. I went to St. Moritz once when I was a teenager but that was a long time ago."

"The Alps are spectacular this time of year," Franklin said. " I try to go there at least once a year. This is the first time I've taken Erica though. She's pretty excited about it."

"I bet. Do you do a lot of skiing, Erica?"

"Uh huh, we go to Aspen every year," she replied.

"Well be careful. I had a client in here last week on crutches on account of a brush with a tree."

"Don’t worry," Franklin said. "If I know Erica she’ll be spending most of her time in the club flirting with all those European hunks that are sure to be there."

Erica smiled and shook her head. "Come on now, Daddy. You’re going to give Mr. Coleman the wrong idea. You know I’m going with you to catch up on my reading."

"Yeah, sure," he chuckled. " So, do you ski, Mr. Coleman?"

"No, I used to, but my wife didn't like skiing much so I haven’t done it for some time."

"Are you divorced?" Erica asked.

Franklin frowned at Erica and said sternly, "That's none of your business, young lady."

"Well he said she didn't ski," Erica said seemingly unconcerned about her father’s reprimand.

"It's alright," I said a little embarrassed by the exchange. . . . "No, I’m not divorced. Actually, my wife died last year in a car wreck."

"Oh, Lord, I'm so sorry," Franklin said frowning again at Erica.

Ignoring Franklin, Erica looked at me intently with her big brown eyes. I smiled at her wondering what she was thinking. Had the revelation of my wife's death reminded her of the loss of her mother? She did look a little sad. I guess I looked at her a little too long as Franklin lifted his hand to his mouth and faked a cough.

I said, "Yes, well then, . . . I guess I should ask you some questions." I picked up my questionnaire and gave it a once over. Then I said, "Have you acquired any new assets since the divorce?"

"Ah, let me see," Franklin said, "Erica got a new 911."

"Oh really? Lucky lady," I said.

Erica nodded. "Daddy promised he’d get me one if I went to College."

"And Daddy always keeps his promises," Franklin noted. "She deserved it."

"I bet she did." I said, "Anything else?"

"No," Franklin said.

"Do you still have the AT&T stock?" I asked.

"No, it wasn't going anywhere. I went ahead and sold it," Franklin replied.

"Okay, what about the Houston Port Authority Municipal Bonds."

"I hate bonds. I don't know why my daddy ever bought them. They only earn five or six percent."

"So, did you sell them?"

"Yeah, I took the money and put it into a restaurant."

"Oh, so you own a restaurant now?" I asked.

"Well, I did, but we had to put it into Chapter 11."

"Chapter 11 bankruptcy?"

"Yes."

"I see. So, is it still operating?"

"No, it was losing about eight thousand a month so we finally shut her down and converted to Chapter 7."

"Oh. That's too bad," I said. " So you don't have any securities then?"

"I'm afraid not," Franklin said and then looked over a Erica. "I have a big life insurance policy, though, just in case something ever happened to me I want Erica to have plenty of money."

"Is that the million dollar policy with Metropolitan Life?" I asked.

"Right," Franklin said.

"What's this twenty-five thousand dollar policy?"

"Oh, that's something I got on my American Express card. I figured it should just about pay off my Platinum bill if I kicked the bucket."

"Who are the beneficiary?" I asked.

"Probably Carmen. I suppose we ought to change that."

"Yes, I think so. I'd suggest a life insurance trust own the policy and be the beneficiary. That way you could provide for someone to manage the insurance proceeds for Erica until she gets a little older and the policy proceeds wouldn’t be taxable in your estate."

"That's exactly what I was thinking. I've got to have someone to look after Erica when I'm gone and I sure as hell don't want Uncle Sam getting any of my money."

"Well, if you were to die the trustee would collect the million dollars and invest it for Erica's benefit. It would be his responsibility to take care of it for her until she got old enough for a distribution."

"When should that be, do you think?"

Erica gave me an intense stare as I contemplated the question. It was awkward to be making this kind of decision with her present. After carefully choosing my words I responded by saying, "You know your daughter better than anyone. When do you think she would be mature enough to handle a million dollars?"

Erica looked at her father with no less intensity. He smiled.

"I guess when she's about fifty-five," Franklin said.

"Oh, thanks a lot, Daddy," Erica said and then looked at me and smiled. "I'm more mature than he is most of the time."

I didn't reply.

"You're right, honey, but a million dollars ain't as easy to handle as you might think. You'd have half the male population of Dallas after you if they knew you had that kind of money."

"I doubt that," Erica replied.

"He's right, Erica. It would be a tremendous burden on you and it would be a lot safer to have a professional take care of it for you, at least until you’re older."

‘How much older?"

"Well, I usually recommend twenty-five or thirty."

"Okay, twenty-five," Erica said.

"Hey, little princess, it's Daddy's decision, not yours. We'll go with thirty."

I smiled at Erica feeling a little guilty. Here I was a perfect stranger meddling with her life. It was my job, but I could feel her resentment. I hoped she'd realize I was just looking out for her best interest. She stared at me a moment, shrugged and then returned the smile seemingly content with the decision. I felt relieved.

"The trustee, of course, will have the discretion to invade corpus if the income isn't enough to take care of Erica," I said.

"What's corpus?" Erica asked.

"That's the property in the trust or the assets the trust owns."

"Oh."

"Okay," I said. "Who's going to be trustee?"

"Gee, I don't know. Who do you suggest?" Franklin asked.

"Well, usually you appoint a family member who you trust implicitly. And, of course, it should be someone who's good with money."

"There's nobody like that in my family," Franklin said. "The only family I've got left is my sister, Martha, and I wouldn't trust her with my junk mail."

I laughed. "That bad, huh?"

"She's a witch," Erica said.

"She's just a little bitter," Franklin said.

"Why?"

"My father disinherited her. When she was seventeen, she wanted to get married to a guy in the Navy. My father refused to give her his permission so she eloped. She figured after thirty years he would have put her back in his will, but he didn't. Oh God was she pissed when she found out I got everything. She threatened a will contest but nothing ever became of it."

"I can imagine she would be a little bitter."

"After dad died she asked me to give her half the money, can you believe that?" Franklin said.

"So, what did you say?"

"Kiss my ass."

We all laughed. "Okay, then how about a bank?"

"You're joking, right?"

"Well, no. What's wrong with a bank?"

"You haven't known many bankers have you?"

"Not many," I said.

"Those sorry sons of bitches just as soon slit your throat as give you the time of day. The only time they want to loan you money is when you don't need it. If it wasn't for the bank calling our note the restaurant may not have gone under."

"Well, there are trust companies that do nothing but manage trusts and pension plans, " I said.

"I don't think so. I don't want some stranger taking care of Erica. She'd just be a number to them. Erica needs special attention, she needs someone who cares about her, someone she feels comfortable with."

"Well, they wouldn't be taking care of her. That's the guardian's job. They would be taking care of her money."

"Same difference," Franklin said and then looked me in the eye. "How about you?"

"Huh?" I said. "Me?"

"Yeah, why don't you be Erica's guardian?

"You mean trustee?" I said.

"Right."

The idea of being Erica's trustee hadn't crossed my mind. Before that day I hadn't even known she or her father existed. I looked at Erica and noticed a slight grin on her face. It wasn't unusual for a client to ask their attorney to be a fiduciary and the prospect of seeing Erica on a regular basis was not unpleasant. I was flattered at the request, but I knew being her trustee wasn't a good idea.

"Well, it's not usually appropriate for your attorney to be the trustee. Our insurance carrier frowns on it," I said.

"You know more about me and my affairs than anybody. I'd really like you to be the trustee," Franklin said and then looked over at Erica. "Don't you think Rich would be a good choice, honey?"

Erica was playing with the rubber band in her pony tail. She glanced over at her father and replied, "Yeah, that would be fine."

"You sure, honey?" Franklin said.

Erica shook her head trying to get her pony tail to mind. Finally she looked at me, smiled and replied, "Yes, I’d be most delighted to have Mr. Coleman as my trustee." She laughed. "That is, until I'm thirty and then I get to blow it."

"You better not blow a million dollars, honey."

Erica looked directly at Franklin and replied, "Why not? You blew four million."

"Hey!" Franklin said. "That wasn't nice, little lady. Maybe I should do to you what my daddy did to Aunt Martha."

"You can't, there's nobody else to leave it to."

"There's always the Salvation Army, right Rich?"

"True," I said.

"Ah, you love me too much to give it to anyone else."

Franklin smiled but didn't say anything.

"I think she's got you there," I said. "I'll have to check with Peter to see if the firm will let me act as trustee. It's not that I don't want to be trustee but there are a lot of legal issues involved in something like this."

"Well, go find Peter and tell him to get his sorry ass in here."

I laughed. "Okay, I'll go get him."

I got up, smiled at Erica and went to find Peter. As we walked back to my office I briefly told him the situation. When we entered the room Franklin stood up and Peter shook his hand. Erica, who had gone over to the window to look at the Dallas skyline, turned and walked toward them. Peter looked at her and did a double take.

He said, "Boy you're so grown up and getting more beautiful every year. What are you eighteen now?"

"Seventeen and a half," Erica said.

"Really, so it's off to college, huh?"

"Yes, I've already been accepted to SMU next fall."

"Congratulations," Peter said.

"Thank you."

"So what's this about Rich being your trustee?"

"Well, you know how I hate banks and we don’t have anyone in the family capable of doing it. So, Erica and I figured Rich would be our best bet," Franklin said, "unless you want to do it."

Peter laughed. "No, I don't think so. That's not my area of expertise. I'm lucky if I can balance my checkbook."

"So, that leaves Rich."

Peter thought a moment. "Well, ordinarily I would say no. We don't usually allow attorneys in the firm to act in a fiduciary capacity since there is a lot of risk to the firm, but there have been a few exceptions. It just so happens Rich does have a good financial background and considerable talent in managing money. He would definitely be qualified."

"He'll do a good job, I'm sure and I can tell Erica likes him already," Franklin said. "That's the most important thing, Erica needs to be comfortable with the man who's handling her money."

"Thank you," I said wondering what I had done to garner such trust in just fifteen minutes. I looked at Erica to get her reaction. She looked away.

"Okay," Peter said. "It's settled then."

"Good," Franklin replied.

By eleven we had pretty much finished our meeting. We scheduled a time to sign everything before the ski trip and then Franklin and Erica left. This was my first appointment as a trustee so I was feeling somewhat flattered by the gesture. I got out a spreadsheet and started thinking about how I would invest a million dollars if I had it. Under trust law, I knew I couldn't do anything the least bit risky and I had to diversify my holdings. That meant no commodities, trading on margin, selling short, buying options or other risky investment techniques that had intrigued me so much over the years. Without these tools and techniques I figured I'd be lucky to earn ten percent on Erica's money. It was a shame I couldn't just invest the money without restriction and really watch the portfolio grow.

A few days later, Franklin stopped by and signed the trust, beneficiary and ownership changes on the life insurance policy and all the other estate planning documents we had prepared. Suzie and I wished him a bon voyage and made him promise to send us a post card. That was the last time I saw him.

I quickly forgot about Franklin and Erica as Peter had set up a luncheon for the members of the firm to give out annual bonuses. I was obviously very excited. The luncheon was held at the Landmark Club and Peter had invited all the wives and most of the firm's VIP's. When everyone was seated, Peter got up to say a few words.

"Good afternoon. I want to thank you all for taking time out of your busy day to join us for lunch today. As you know Rogers, Phillips and Coleman was formed five years ago by Paul Rogers and myself and thanks to all of you we're the second fastest growing law firm in Dallas with seven new associates this year."

There was a round of applause and then Peter said, "You all know Paul who's seated next to me here with his lovely wife, Alice. As you know Paul and I struggled the first few years. We were only modestly capitalized and starting a new law firm in such a competitive marketplace as Dallas was tough. Fortunately Richard Coleman came along with a new perspective on running the firm. A lot of our success has been due to his hard work and skill. As you know, we rewarded him by making him the first associate at Rogers and Phillips to make partner."

The crowd gave me a round of applause and I smiled and nodded my thanks to them. Peter continued, "It wasn't until Richard came that we learned how to market the firm's business effectively and we really began to grow. Many of you are here today because Richard taught us that our clients were the most important members of the firm and they should always be kept informed as to what we were doing and invited to participate in the firm's activities. Richard we thank you for your contribution and look forward to another great year of growth and innovation."

"Thank you, Peter," I said.

Once Peter got going it was tough to shut him up. He went on for another twenty minutes or so before he announced the firms' fourth partner, Rudy Wells, and handed out the annual bonuses. I was happy about having a thirty-five thousand dollar check in my hand at long last, but not having anyone to share it with left me feeling empty inside.

On the way home I stopped by the offices of Bear Stearns & Company to see my friend, Joe Weston. Joe had been my college roommate and closest friend. We were both finance majors and were in the Wall Street Wizards together. After we graduated from college he went to work for Bear Stearns and I went to law school. He was my best man when Paula and I were married and a pall bearer at her funeral. I was excited to tell him the news.

"That's a pretty sweet bonus," Joe said.

"Tell me about it. So what should I do with it?"

"You're asking me? As I recall you got the Wisest Wizard award four years in a row."

"True," I said. "But that was for fun. Now I'm talking about real money. You're the expert now. I haven't been on top of the markets like you have. They must be smothering you with in-depth reports and inside information, right?"

"Yeah, but I'm not as good as you were at cutting through all that shit," Joe said. "You're the only person I know who could hold a prospectus up to his nose and tell whether the investment stunk or not."

I smiled. "Well, my sense of smell's not so good these days. Just put me into something relatively safe."

"Safe? Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm doing fine. Maybe some muni bonds so I don't get killed on income taxes."

Joe shook his head. "What is it? Paula?"

"I guess. I still think about her a lot."

"Hey, maybe I should fix you up with somebody? You need to start thinking about the future and forget about what happened. We just hired a new secretary I know you'd love her. She's hot as a jalapeno."

"I'll take care of it. . . . Hey, the firm's got a half dozen season tickets to the Rangers. You want to catch a few games?" Joe asked.

"Absolutely, that would be great."

"Good, I'll give you a call when the tickets come in."

On the way out Joe made a point to introduce me to Renee. I'll have to admit she looked very tempting but just thinking about asking her out engendered such a flood of guilt I quickly dismissed the idea. I knew there would have to be a time when I got over Paula and got on with my life, but my heart told me that time had not yet come. I wondered how long it would be.

It was early the following Saturday morning when I got a phone call. I hated phone calls in the night because they almost always meant trouble, somebody was dead, sick or in jail. I hesitated before picking up the phone.

"Mr. Coleman, this is Jean Paul Moitz with the American Consulate in Berne."

"Where?"

"Berne. Berne, Switzerland."

"Switzerland? You sure you dialed the right area code?"

"Yes, you are Richard Coleman, am I right?"

"Yeah, . . . okay. What can I do for you?"

"I have a young lady here who is quite distressed and asked me to call you."

"Huh? . . . What’s her name?" I asked.

"Erica Franklin. She says you are her guardian."

"Erica Franklin?"

"Right. Are you her guardian?"

"Ah. . . . Well, not really, I'm her trustee. What's going on?"

"Her father, Franklin Fox, died early this morning in a skiing accident?"

"Oh, Lord!"

"She said she doesn't have any relatives so I should call you," he said.

"She told you to call me?"

"Yes."

"Huh. . . . Well, is she there? Can I talk to her?"

"Yes, hang on."

"Mr. Coleman?" Erica said.

"Yes, hi Erica," I said. "I'm so sorry to hear about you father."

"Thank you. I'm sorry to bother you but I don't know what to do. I need some help and I didn't know who else to call."

"It's alright, I'm glad you called me. When did this happen?"

"Just a few hours ago," she said.

"Are you alright?" It was a stupid question and quickly regretting asking it.

"No," Erica said as she began crying. "Why did this have to happen? It's not fair. What am I going to do without Daddy?"

These were all tough questions to which I had no answers. I took a deep breath while I rummaged for something comforting to say. "I'm so sorry. I know how terrible you must be feeling, but you've got to be strong."

"I know, I'm trying to be. Now I know how you felt when your wife died."

It surprised me that she remembered my brief mention of Paula and had related my experience to what was happening to her. It seemed extraordinary for a teenager to be so perceptive at a time of such personal tragedy. "I guess you do," I said. " Listen, I'm going to hop on the next plane. I don't know how long it will take me to get to you exactly, but I should be there within twenty-four hours I would imagine. Can you stay at the Consulate until I get there?"

"I don't know, I'll ask."

The phone went dead for a moment. I couldn't believe this was happening. While I was holding I tried to remember what I had going on the next few days. Could I just cancel everything and run off to Europe? I took a deep breath and waited.

"They said they'd take me back to my hotel at Zermatt until you get here. They said they'd alert the local authorities and I could call them if I needed anything."

"Good, what hotel?"

"The Victoria-Jungfran."

"Okay, you hang in there. I'll see you tomorrow."

After hanging up the phone I looked at the clock. It was 4:35 a.m. My body wanted to go back to sleep but I knew if I wanted to catch an early flight I had better get going. I leaned down, picked up the yellow pages from under the bed and began flipping pages searching for the number for American Airlines reservations. Once I found it I called and was advised the next flight to London was at 7:27 a.m. After taking a quick shower I pulled my suitcase down out of the closet and started packing. By 5:45 I was ready to leave so I called a cab to take me to the airport. After a forty-five minute trip to Love Field, I checked-in and then decided I better call Suzie at home and advise her what had happened. I called her and told her to cancel all my appointments for the next few days.

Luckily I had a current passport and a visa wasn't required for Great Britain or Switzerland. At 7:15 I sat down in my seat on Flight 221 to Geneva, Switzerland via London. As soon as we were in the air I closed my eyes and fell asleep. When I awoke we were over Tennessee. The flight attendant asked me if I wanted some breakfast but I declined as I usually didn't eat before noon.

An hour later as the big jet headed out over the Atlantic it suddenly dawned on me that I would soon be collecting over a million dollars in life insurance proceeds. Even though the money wouldn't be mine, the thought of managing such a large sum excited me. For several minutes I imagined myself wheeling and dealing with Erica's money. I could see her joyful face as I handed her a big check and she rewarded me with a grateful kiss. Then suddenly I was stricken with fear. What if I screwed up and lost money? What if the stock market crashed and I lost everything? Shit. If I lost my own money that was one thing, but if I lost Erica's money that would be unbearable.

By the time we were mid-way to London, my daydreaming had inevitably turned to Paula. She had been the perfect wife, always so attentive and full of love. We had been high school sweethearts at Santa Barbara High School. She had waited patiently for me to graduate from UCLA and then SMU law school. It had been difficult for us living so far apart but our love had been strong enough to survive that long ordeal. Our wedding took place at the old Santa Barbara Mission. It was a magnificent place for a wedding. While standing at the alter waiting to take the vows of marriage I had wished that our marriage would be as enduring as the fortress in which it took place. I could see her in her wedding gown, so happy, so vivacious coming down the isle.

Then we were driving south on Central Expressway near Campbell Road. From nowhere a car began weaving in and out of traffic. It veered in front of us so I slammed on the brakes to avoid a collision. The car spun around and smashed into the center median. It bounced back in front of an eighteen wheeler and that's all I remember. I woke up in Richardson General Hospital. I was in intensive care with tubes running up my nose, IV's in my arms and electronic sensors taped to my chest.

"Nurse, where's my wife?" I said as I looked around the stark room.

The nurse's face dropped like ice in a tall glass. She turned away, I could see the pain in her face. She turned back toward me, looked me in the eyes and replied, "She's dead."

Tears began to swell in my eyes, I began to shake, I couldn't breathe.

"No! . . .Please God, No! Not Paula. . . . No! No!" I cried.

"She died this morning. She put up a good fight but the damage to her spinal cord was too extensive."

My eyes were wet and swollen when I woke up from my daydream. The flight attendant stopped and gave me a hard look. I wiped away the tears and forced a smile. She asked if I was okay, if I wanted anything. I asked for some water. She nodded and went to get it for me.

As I looked out the window to the vast ocean passing beneath us, I wondered how Erica was doing. She must be devastated. First the divorce, then her mother's disappearance and now her father's death. God, what she must be going through. I looked down at my watch and saw it was nearly two. It wouldn't be long until we landed in London and then another few hours and I'd be in Geneva. I wondered how I would get from Geneva to Zermatt. When the flight attendant showed up with my water I decided to ask her.

"No problem. There's a bus . . . As a matter of fact I'm taking it this afternoon. I'd be happy to show you to it."

"Oh, would you?"

"Sure, it will take me about fifteen minutes to clean up after the flight and then we can leave."

"Oh, thank you. That's very nice of you."

"My pleasure."

"What's your name," I asked.

She smiled and extended her hand. "I'm Kathy Conley."

I introduced myself, we shook hands and then she went back to her duties. I couldn't believe how lucky I had been to get an escort to Zermatt. I knew that would save me a couple of hours of travel time and Erica a few hours of loneliness. The remainder of the flight went quickly. We landed in London briefly and then were back in the air on our way to Geneva. As the Alps appeared beneath me I suddenly realized I hadn't packed for cold weather. It was sixty-nine degrees in Dallas when I left so I forgot all about the freezing weather I would be facing in Switzerland. Finally the plane made its descent and landed in Geneva. After deplaning I sat down to wait for Kathy to finish up her work so we could leave. When she emerged from the ramp I stood up and smiled.

We started walking through the lobby area towards a big sign that read Customs. We went through some glass doors and then got in one of the long lines to have our passports checked.

"So why are you in a hurry to get to Zermatt? Are you a skier?" Kathy said.

"No, this isn't a vacation unfortunately. . . . A client of mine died yesterday. I'm an attorney."

"Oh."

I explained the situation to Kathy in the cab on the way to the bus station. The bus was filled with a boisterous bunch of skiers anxious to get onto the slopes. The route to Zermatt was extraordinarily beautiful as we traveled through majestic snow capped mountains, magnificent forests and numerous quaint little villages. As I watched Kathy I began to feel a little guilty but I didn't know why. Then I realized Kathy was beautiful and I was attracted to her. Sure, I was single but it had only been a little more than a year since Paula had died. I hadn't even thought about another woman until Joe had brought it up. I felt ashamed. My shame, however, couldn't quell the emotions that were rising inside me.

"Are you a good skier?" I asked.

"No, not really, but I have fun anyway."

"It's so beautiful here it would be difficult not to have fun."

"Do you ski?" Kathy asked.

"Yes, but I haven’t done it for awhile?"

"How come?"

"My wife, she-"

Kathy frowned. "You're married then."

"I was. She died a year ago."

"Oh, . . . I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"It's alright. It was an car accident." I told her about Paula's death.

"So how about you, are you married?" I asked.

"Divorced."

"Oh, that's too bad."

"It was the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Really? Do you have any children?"

"No, being a flight attendant doesn't leave much time for a family. My husband was an architect and didn't have much extra time either. We hardly saw each other."

"Is that why you split up?"

"No, it was due to his secretary, Rita."

"He cheated on you?"

"I'm afraid so."

"I couldn't imagine that."

"Why?"

"If you were my wife I doubt I'd be looking at other women."

Kathy smiled and turned away. Another cringe of guilt overcame me. What was I doing flirting with a woman? It wasn't right I told myself . . . but I couldn't stop.

"Men just don't appreciate what they have nowadays. Paula was the most wonderful woman in the world and I knew it. When she died I was devastated. I'm still devastated. Your husband was an idiot for letting you get away."

"I'm lucky to be rid of him," Kathy said.

When the bus finally arrived in Zermatt I was a little sad. I hadn’t had a serious conversation with a woman in over a year. Talking to Kathy had felt good and brought back memories of the wonderful conversations Paula and I had enjoyed during our brief marriage. After Kathy said goodbye, I caught a cab to the hotel where Erica was staying. An aide from the consulate was waiting there for me. She briefed me on the procedure for getting Franklin's body shipped back to the U.S. then we went upstairs to Erica's room. Erica eagerly opened the door when I knocked.

"Mr. Coleman, oh thank God you're here," she said as she put her arms around my neck.

She held me tightly for a moment, sobbing intermittently. I smiled at the aide who watched us. Finally I eased her into the room and we sat down. I looked at the aide and said, "Thanks so much for your help. I think she'll be alright now. I'll call over to the Consulate in the morning and make an appointment to come in and take care of everything."

The aide left and I turned my attention to Erica who wasn't looking so good. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot. She obviously hadn't slept since she’d called me. Her clothes were soiled and wrinkled and she couldn't keep her hands from shaking.

"Have you been alright?" I asked.

"Yes, the people at the hospital and the Consulate staff were so nice," Erica replied.

"That's good. Did you sleep?"

"No, I couldn't."

"I didn't either the first night. I know it must have been tough for you. The first night is the worst."

"I can't believe Daddy's gone. We were having such a good time. Why did this have to happen?"

"No one has an answer to that question except God. Maybe some day you'll understand."

"I'll never understand what I did to deserve this. It's not fair." Erica sobbed. "Isn't losing a mother enough?"

"I don't think this a punishment thing. It's just fate. There's nothing you could have done to prevent your father's death."

"How do you know how God punishes people?"

"I don't. It's just an opinion."

"But you made it sound like it was a fact," Erica said.

"You're right, I'm sorry for getting into religion. I don't even know what religion you are. Listen, are you hungry? I bet you haven't eaten today."

"Mom and I were Catholic. Dad was Episcopalian but he never went to church."

I nodded. "Are you hungry?"

"Sure, okay."

"Come on, I saw a little cafe down the street."

Erica went to the closet and got a heavy coat. As we were leaving she noticed I only had a light jacket. She frowned. "You're going to freeze to death."

"It didn't occur to me to bring warm clothes. I kind of left in a hurry."

"I'm sorry," she said and then went back to the closet and returned with a heavy jacket. "This was Daddy's jacket. You can use it."

"Oh, thank you," I said and then put it on.

We left the room, took the stairs to the hotel lobby and then went outside. I quickly felt the icy chill of the north wind and was glad I had a warm jacket. The sky was dark and there was a light snow falling. As I looked around the bustling little village I thought, what a nice place to die. I mean, if you have to pick the spot, Zermatt was certainly a good place. We walked two blocks and then entered the Restaurant Seilerhaus where we were welcomed by the warmth of a raging fireplace. The waitress took us to a table and we sat down.

"Tomorrow I'm going to the funeral home to arrange for transportation of your father's body. I'm going to need a death certificate too so we can collect the death proceeds from the insurance policy. I'm afraid we're going to have to stay a day or two in order to get it."

"Why don't you just have them mail it?"

"If we don't get it before we leave it might take weeks or even months to get it. The insurance company won't pay without a death certificate."

"So, I'm rich now, huh?" she said.

"Well, I guess a million dollars might qualify you, but not excessively. A million dollars isn't what it used to be."

"How long until I get it?"

"Usually just a few weeks," I said.

Erica looked around the room nervously and then took a deep breath and smiled.

"You okay?" I asked.

Erica nodded her head and then asked, "Where will I live?"

"Where are you living now?"

"In Daddy's condo."

"Why don't you go live with your aunt?"

Erica lowered her head and replied, "Get real."

"What's wrong with your aunt?"

"Besides being a bitch she lives in Odessa for godsakes. I've already lost my parents, isn't that enough. What now, I get exiled?"

"No, you're too old to be told where to live. I'm just trying to discuss options."

"Why can't I stay by myself at Daddy's condo?" she asked.

"I don't know. We'll have to give that some thought."

"It's not that big. Daddy and I were pretty cramped. It's really perfect just for me."

"Well, when we get back I'll check the feasibility of you staying there. Since you're not eighteen yet technically you should be under the custody and control of an adult. Logically that would be your aunt."

"I'll be just fine on my own. Besides, if I need anything I can come to you, right?"

"Of course, I'll help any way I can, but I'm not your guardian or a substitute parent."

Erica smiled and replied, "Well, I should hope not."

After dinner I took Erica back to the hotel and we went to our rooms. The next day I took care of the transportation arrangements and then thought about how Erica and I should kill the remainder of the weekend. I wanted to keep Erica occupied so she wouldn't be dwelling on her father's death. After explaining my dilemma to the concierge, he suggested we go to an ice skating exhibition that night and attend a hockey game on Sunday afternoon. Erica seemed appreciative and was very pleasant company. On Sunday morning we went to church and were waiting for the service to begin. Erica looked much better when I picked her up. She had got some sleep, taken a hot bath and put on a black dress purchased for her by one of the secretaries at the consulate.

"This is the most beautiful church I have ever seen," Erica said.

"Isn't it, though? They don't build churches like this back in Dallas," I said.

"Do you think Daddy is watching us?"

I took a deep breath to keep from laughing. "I don't know. It's possible, I guess."

Erica looked up and scanned the ceiling. "Wouldn't it be funny if he were floating up there right now looking down at us?" Erica raised her hand and yelled, "Hi, Daddy." Then she looked at me and laughed, "Everyone's going to think I'm crazy, huh?"

"No, you may be right. Who knows?"

"Do you believe in the tunnel and the bright light?"

"Huh?"

"You know how people who have had near death experiences claim to have been drawn down a tunnel to a bright light. Do you believe that’s what happens when you die?"

"Well, it’s kind of hard to believe, but then again there have been so many people with that same experience it’s kind of hard just to dismiss as nonsense."

"Well, I believe it," Erica said. "Can we go to the chapel and light a candle for Daddy after mass?"

"Sure, I'd like to light one for Paula, too," I said.

"Were you mad at God when Paula died?"

I thought a minute. "I don’t know if I was mad at God so much as I was with the asshole who was driving after downing eight beers."

"Well, I’m pissed. Daddy never hurt anybody, he was a good man. There was no reason for him to die."

"I know. It makes no sense and we will never be able to understand it fully. So, just try not to think about it."

"Like you don't think about Paula?"

Luckily the service began before Erica broke out in tears again. It was a beautiful ceremony. When it was over we went to the chapel, lit two candles and prayed for our lost loved ones. After lunch, we went to the hockey game which turned out to be quite exciting although we didn't know one team from the other. Early on Erica determined that we should back the red team as they had prettier uniforms. Although I didn't see the logic in that, I didn't feel like challenging her at this point. That night we went to dinner at a Restaurant Stochorn which was highly recommended by the concierge. When we were done we ordered coffee.

"Thank you, Mr. Coleman for helping me get through these last few days."

I hated when people called me, "Mr. Coleman." It made me feel old. "It's been my pleasure and I think we can cut the formality. Why don't you call me Rich? That's what all my friends call me."

"Does that mean we're friends?"

I smiled. "I hope so."

Erica smiled back. "Good."

"I've really enjoyed being with you. Your father must have loved you dearly. You're a wonderful girl. I think it's going to be fun being your trustee."

"You like handling money?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, I do. It's kind of a hobby of mine," I said.

"Really. Are you any good at it?"

"Well, on paper I’ve done pretty well."

"How well?"

"Oh, sixty percent or so annually the last 10 years," I said.

"Oh, my God."

"But, to be honest, I never really bought any stock, they've all been fictitious trades."

"What do you mean?"

I explained the Wall Street Wizards to her.

"But if you would have actually had the money you would have made the same trades, right?

"I would assume so."

"How do you know when to buy and sell?" she asked.

"You've got to follow the stocks closely, research the companies and keep an eye out for good buys. Then you've got to leverage yourself by trading on margin and when the time is right, selling short. I'm pretty good at commodity trading too. You can make a killing in a hurry in commodities if you can anticipate important market swings."

"So do you get paid for doing this?"

All these questions caught me off guard. It made sense, though, that Erica would be curious about my duties as trustee now that her father had died. No doubt she paid little attention when she and her father had first met with me because it didn’t seem relevant with her father alive and well. Now suddenly I would be controlling a million dollars of her money. So my duties were quite relevant to her future well being. She deserved some answers.

"For being your trustee?" I asked.

"Uh huh."

"Yes, of course."

"How much?"

"The trust provides that I get the greater of five percent of earnings or $5,000 a year. Why? Does that bother you?"

"No, you should get paid, I was just curious," she said.

"I want you to understand everything that's going on. If you ever have any questions about anything just ask me, okay?"

Erica laughed. "I will, believe me, I will."

After standing in line for two hours I was able to get Franklin's death certificate. With our business concluded we went to the station and took the last bus to Geneva. We stayed overnight in Geneva and boarded our American Airlines flight Tuesday morning. Erica had a middle seat and I was seated on the aisle. As I was easing back into my chair getting ready for our take-off I heard a familiar voice. It was Kathy.

"Hey, I was hoping I'd see you on your return flight," she said.

"How are you?" I asked.

"Fine."

I introduced Erica to Kathy.

"Oh, I'm so sorry about your father, Erica," Kathy said.

"Thank you," Erica replied and then turned her head away.

"Well, we can talk later. Enjoy your flight."

"Thanks, Kathy. I'm so glad to see you."

"Me too."

Erica watched Kathy as she walked down the aisle. Then she turned to me and said, "You didn't tell me you made a friend on the way to Switzerland."

"I didn't know you'd be interested," I said.

"I'm not, I'm just thought in all the hours we were together you would have told me."

"It didn't occur to me. I only saw her for a couple of hours and when I got to Zermatt I forgot all about her."

"Do you like her?"

"Yes, I do. She's very charming and I think she'd be fun to be with."

"Are you going to ask her out?"

"Maybe."

Erica's line of questioning amused me. I couldn't believe she cared about my social life. The funny thing was it felt good to have someone care a little about me. For the first time since Paula's death the emptiness inside began to wane. It occurred to me that whether I liked it not I was destined to become Erica's surrogate father. What a strange and wonderful feeling it was to suddenly be responsible for another human being. I almost felt like passing out cigars.

It wasn't easy getting out of bed on Wednesday morning as I was suffering from a bad case of jet lag. The thought of facing the office after a three day absence didn't help either. There would be a stack of phone messages capable of producing instant depression and the in-box that would be stacked half way to the ceiling. Finally, I dragged myself out of bed and hit the shower. The hot soothing water felt so good I lingered longer than I should have. Eventually, I got dressed and left for the office. As I was driving south on Midway Road towards LBJ, I felt an unusual hunger pain. I attributed it to overeating in Switzerland. My stomach must have been stretched and now it was accustomed to more food than it needed. The thought of stopping at Denny's crossed my mind but luckily the memory of a childhood resurfaced and I drove on by.

When I got to the office Suzie greeted me with her usual gleeful smile and went to get me some coffee. As I walked into my office I shuddered at the sight of my desk. It was even worse than I expected. Before I got my coat off and had a chance to sit down, Peter walked in.

"So, how is Erica?" he asked.

"It was really tough on her. She took it pretty bad."

"I can imagine," Peter said. "Losing two parents in a year must be hard to take."

"It was, but she seems to be a tough young lady."

"So, did Franklin sign his trust before he left, I hope?" Peter asked.

"Yeah he did, so I guess I've got my work cut out for me. In fact, she's already presented me with an interesting problem."

I explained Erica's aversion to living with her aunt.

"But she's a minor."

"I know, but we can't force her to move to Odessa. Besides, she'll be eighteen soon."

"So, what are you going to do then?" Peter asked.

"I suppose I'll petition the court to emancipate her so she'll have the rights of an adult. She seems mature enough to handle it."

"Good idea, that way she'll be responsible for her own actions and we won't have to worry about any potential liability exposure."

"That's true, I hadn't thought about that," I said.

"You better start thinking about covering your ass now that you're her trustee."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean now you have a fiduciary duty towards her. You better dot all your i's and cross your t's my friend," Peter warned. "If you screw up, she'll own you."

"She's a nice girl. I'm not worried about that."

"If I were you I'd worry about it," he said. "Money has a way of bringing the worst out of people."

I shook my head. "I think we really bonded this weekend. It's going to be fun being her trustee."

"Fun? I know she's a knock out, but you're not supposed to have fun. You're just her trustee, remember?"

"I'm talking about the money. Having a million bucks to play with."

"Oh . . . that, well actually it's two million, isn’t it?"

"What?" I said.

"Double indemnity. Accidental death."

"Oh yeah, you're right. Oh my Lord."

"You better be careful. Don't even think about doing any of the exotic securities trading you've told me about."

"What do you think, I'm stupid?" I said.

"No, but it’s a lot of money so I just want you to be extra careful."

"Trust me, I will be very careful."

"Good," Peter said with a look of relief. After Peter had left, Suzie showed up with my coffee and an exuberant smile. The anxiety Peter had momentarily created vanished as I told Suzie about my trip.

"So ole Frankie boy really did it this time," Suzie said.

"What do you mean?"

"He managed to screw up Carmen's life, then his own and now Erica's."

"How did he screw up Carmen's life?" I asked.

"He married her."

I laughed. "Was he that bad?"

Suzie nodded. "He was a real bastard. I hated him the first day I met him."

"Well, he can't do anymore damage now. Hopefully Erica will come through all of this with some semblance of sanity. At least with two million dollars money won't be a problem."

Suzie left and I started answering phone calls. By lunch time I had reached everyone that I could so I put my briefcase on my desk and opened it. Franklin's death certificate was lying on top of an assortment of legal documents. Seeing it reminded me I needed to file a death claim. I hit the intercom and asked Suzie to bring me Franklin's estate planning file. After she brought it to me I found the insurance policy and called information and got the number of the insurance company's home office. I called and advised a young lady in the claims department of Richard's death. She put me on hold and went to get the policy file.

"Let me see here," she said when she got back on the line. There was a moment of silence. I began to get nervous.

"What's wrong?"

"This policy seems to have lapsed."

"Lapsed?"

"Yes, nearly a year ago."

"You’ve got to be joking!"

"No?" she said. "I'm sorry but that seems to be the situation."

"Oh Jesus. Are you absolutely sure about this?"

"Yes, there are several lapse notices in the file and there's a note we called Mr. Franklin but, I’m afraid he never sent in the delinquent premium."

I got up and started pacing behind my desk. "Oh my God. I can't believe this. . . . Damn, . . . Two million dollars! Oh shit!"

"I'm sorry, Sir. I'll double check with my supervisor, but the policy has definitely lapsed."

"Can you send me copies of the lapse notices?"

"I'll send you a claim form. You can file a claim but I'm sure it will be denied."

"Okay," I said too stunned to think clearly.

"I'm terribly sorry," the lady said.

"So am I."

I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my forehead to ease the headache that had suddenly developed. How was I going to break the news to Erica that she was penniless? I hit the intercom button and yelled for Suzie to come in.

"What's wrong!" she said with bewildered look on her face.

I told her the bad news.

I said, "How am I going to tell Erica? Oh God, I can’t believe this!"

"It's not like it was your money, Rich."

"Erica's going to be devastated."

"Well there's still the group insurance."

"What group insurance?" I said.

"Didn't Frankie have an American Express Life policy for twenty-five grand?"

"That's true, he did."

"So, if he paid his American Express bill it'll still be in force," Suzie said.

"And if it had double indemnity it'll pay off $50,000," I said.

"That's not two million but it's better than a chisel up your ass."

I shook my head. "Come on, Suzie. This isn't funny. How would you like to give Erica the bad news?"

"If you'll swap salaries with me, I'll do it," she replied.

"Don't tempt me. Right now that doesn't sound like such a bad deal." I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. "I guess it could be worse. Fifty thousand dollars ought to keep her off the streets a couple of years."

"Well, I don't know about that, she's used to living pretty lavishly," Suzie said.

"She'll have to change."

Suzie laughed. "Fat chance."

"You better call her and have her come see me right away. I don't want to keep something like this from her too long. It's best to just get it over with so we can start figuring out how to deal with the problem. . . . Oh, God. This is terrible."

On Friday Erica was scheduled to see me. At nine thirty, Suzie advised me that she had arrived. I hadn’t slept all night so I felt like crap. I cleared off my desk, put on my coat and stared out the window for a few moments trying to figure out what I was going to say. Getting no inspiration I finally I told Suzie to send her in. I’d just have to ad lib. As she entered my office she gave me an exuberant smile. When I didn't reciprocate, she frowned and immediately asked me what was wrong. She sat down and I briefly explained the situation.

She swallowed hard. "You mean I won't get the money?"

"I’m afraid not. There was no insurance coverage when your father died."

She jumped up and began pacing. "That can’t be right. Daddy always paid his bills."

"Not this time apparently."

She glared at me. "I know he must of paid them. He promised me I’d be taken care of if anything happened to him. There must be some mistake."

I stood up. "There’s no mistake, Erica. The policy lapsed."

She closed her eyes and put her hand on her temple. "Oh shit. What am I going to do without money."

"Well you're not destitute, there was a fifty thousand dollar policy in effect."

She opened her eyes. "How much?"

"Fifty thousand," I said and sat down.

"Fifty thousand, that's nothing! In a year I'll be broke. SMU cost $25,000 a year just in tuition. What am I to do?"

I took a deep breath. "I don't know, I'm really sorry."

She began biting her fingernail. "Isn't there anything you can do? Can't we sue them?"

"Not really, they're sending me proof that the policy cancellation was justified. We wouldn't have any grounds for a lawsuit"

"What am I going to do? This can't be happening. How could Daddy let the policy lapse?"

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, but we'll figure out something. Don't worry."

Erica gave me a scathing look. "Don't worry? What in the hell am I going to do? Shit!" She went to the window and paced back in forth. Finally she stopped and turned to me. "Rich, you've got to do something."

"Come sit down. We need to do a budget for you. You'll have to curtail your lifestyle a little bit to make the money last."

Erica turned around and looked at me. "But I don't want to do that. Daddy promised he'd always take care of me. Now, I'm going to end up on the street."

Erica began to cry. I got up and went over to her and put my hand on her shoulder.

"You're not going to end up on the street but you may have to get a job," I said.

Erica pushed me away. "What? And make four bucks an hour. That'll do me a lot of good."

I shook my head. "A lot of people make just four dollars an hour."

"Not me. I'm not doing that," Erica said as she folded her arms and glared at me.

I laughed. "What choice do you have?"

"You're my trustee. Can't you do something?"

"I'm your trustee, not a magician," I replied. "I can't make money out of thin air."

"You could have checked and made sure the premiums were paid."

"My job didn't start until your Daddy died. . . . Besides, the policy lapsed over a year ago."

"Great. You've got an excuse for everything, don’t you?"

"What?!"

" I can see picking you was another one of Daddy's fuck-ups."

After Erica stormed out of my office I became panicky. I suddenly realized when we sent in the change of beneficiary and ownership forms to the insurance company they should have advised us the policy had lapsed. What had gone wrong? When I went to the file room and located the Fox estate planning file I quickly discovered the problem. Somehow the policy change form had been punched and filed rather than sent to the insurance company.

"Fuck!" I said as I slammed the file drawer closed. I went back to my office and collapsed in my chair. Then I started rationalizing. Even if the change form had been timely filed there is no guarantee the insurance company would have notified me of the lapse in time to do anything about it. Since Franklin and Erica had left almost immediately for Europe it's not likely I could have done anything to avoid the catastrophe that Erica now faced. Although my analysis made sense I didn't feel much better. I felt, at least, partially to blame for what happened to Erica and somehow I had to rectify the situation, but how could I ever possible do that?

After Paula's death I felt a vast loneliness, particularly on the weekends. Sundays were the worst. Paula and I used to go to church together every Sunday morning. Except for going to Mass with Erica the previous week, I hadn't set foot in church in over a year. Depression sunk in quickly after my altercation with Erica. I realized then that letting myself be talked into being her trustee had been a big mistake. The idea of resigning crossed my mind. It was unlikely anyone would ever realize that I had screwed up. I could walk away on the premise that Erica obviously didn't want me as her trustee anymore. No one would blame me after what she said to me. But it seemed like everyone was bailing out on Erica and she didn't need that right now. Besides, if I was partially to blame for what had happened, I couldn't run away from the problem. It wouldn't be right. Somehow I had to ease Erica's financial bind. I didn't know how that could be done, but if there was a way, I had to find it.

The thought of being alone all weekend disturbed me. My depression would only get worse. The excitement of the past weekend with Erica made me remember what companionship used to be like. Then I thought of Kathy. She had been quite friendly on the plane and we seemed to hit it off on the bus to Zermatt. I called her.

"I'm glad I caught you in. I was afraid you would be off in some far distant continent." "Well, as a matter of fact I'm leaving on a four day trip to South America Sunday morning," she said.

"Really? . . . Well, I thought maybe we could do something this weekend."

"Gee, I don't know."

"I'd really like to see you. I've thought a lot about you since we met. As a matter of fact you're the first woman I've even considered dating since Paula died."

"Are you sure you're ready?" she asked.

"Yes, I think so."

"Well, okay. I'm free tomorrow if you promise to get me home early so I won't be exhausted Sunday morning."

"I promise."

"So what did you have in mind?"

"Do you like the theater?"

"Sure."

"Good. We can have an early dinner and then go to the Majestic Theater and see Runaways," I said.

"Oh, that would be nice."

"I'll pick you up at 5:15 on Saturday, okay?"

"Okay, see you then."

It felt strange asking a woman out on a date. It had been three or four years since I had done it last and I had forgotten how scary it was. Kathy had made it easy for me though. She hadn't played hard to get and for that I was much relieved. The thought of seeing her very soon took my mind off of how I was going to deal with Erica's situation. The sick feeling that had been lingering inside me began to fade a little.

By the end of the day on Friday I had cleaned off my desk and finally felt like I was back in control. Once I left the office I started to plan my evening with Kathy. When I got home I called and made reservations at the Mansion. I wanted to make the evening memorable so Kathy would want to go out with me again. On my way home I picked up the tickets to the Majestic Theater. The only thing left was to buy Kathy some flowers and go by the cleaners and pick up my dry cleaning. When I went to bed Friday night everything was set. It was just a matter of time now before Kathy and I would be together.

On Saturday, I worked until two o'clock and then went home to get ready for the evening. On the way home I went to the florist. The lady who helped me suggested a corsage rather than flowers. It made sense as she would be gone for several days in South America and wouldn't be able to enjoy a bouquet. So I bought her a corsage made of beautiful white and purple orchids. I prayed Kathy would like it. When I got home I showered, shaved and got dressed. At five o'clock I drove over to Kathy's apartment in the Village just off Northwest Highway. It took me awhile to find her apartment in the huge complex but nevertheless precisely at 5:15 I knocked on her door. A few seconds later the door opened and a girl I had never seen before smiled at me.

"You must be Rich," she said.

"That's right. Is Kathy here?"

"No, she told me to tell you that she got a call from work. One of the other girls got sick and she had to fill-in for her. She's probably in Mexico City by now. She really felt badly. She tried to call you this morning but nobody answered."

"You've got to be kidding. I've got reservations at the Mansion and tickets for the Majestic Theater. I can't believe this."

The girl’s eyes lit up. "You said the Mansion?"

"Yeah, the Mansion."

She smiled. "Well, . . . I was going to the movies with a friend, . . . but I could cancel it if you need someone to stand-in for Kathy."

I laughed as I briefly considered the offer, but quickly decided a night with a stranger would be awkward. Besides I really liked Kathy and she might not approve of me going out with her roommate. "Thanks, but that's alright. I guess it wasn't meant to be."

"Sorry. She said to call her on Tuesday."

As I walked to the car I wondered if Kathy had really been called away or she had just changed her mind about dating me. That sick empty feeling returned with a vengeance. When I got back to my car I got in and pulled out the theater tickets. "Damn it!" I said tearing them in half and tossing them in the back seat. I started the engine and took off like a cork out of champagne bottle. When I reached Northwest Highway I screeched around the corner and sped west to Central Expressway. I heard a siren behind me. I looked in the rear view mirror and saw a patrol car closing in on me.

"Great!" I said as I pulled over and stopped. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "I must be cursed."

The officer got out of his car and approached me. I rolled down the window as he came up beside me. He said, "What's the big hurry?"

"I'm sorry, officer. I've had a really bad day. I was just anxious to get home."

"You know you could have killed someone driving recklessly like that."

"You're right. I apologize. I don't usually drive like that. I just got stood up for a date and-"

"Can I see your license please?" the officer asked unmoved by my explanation.

"You're going to give me a ticket?"

"That's what happens when you break the law," the officer said as he started writing.

"Great! That's just great."

The officer filled out the ticket, made me sign it and then left. When I got home I tossed the corsage in the garbage, got a beer and turned on the TV. I picked up the channel changer and began flipping between channels. There was nothing decent on so I shut off the TV and looked for a book. Everything I could find I had already read so I opened my briefcase to work on a project I had brought home. As I was glancing through the file the doorbell rang. Not expecting anyone I hesitated a moment. Finally, I got up, went to the door and opened it. It was Erica all dressed up like she was going to a party. She had on a tight black sleeveless dress, black stockings and a pearl necklace. I took a breath and could smell the sweet scent of gardenias.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I need to talk to you a minute," she said. "Can I come in?"

I hesitated, then said, "Yeah, I guess, come on in."

Erica walked in and stood in the hallway while I closed the door. I turned and looked at her amazed at how much older she looked all dressed up. My depression quickly vanished when she gave me a sweet smile.

"Come in, sit down. Boy, you sure look nice tonight. You got a date?"

She laughed. "No, I just decided to look decent for a change. You've never seen me dressed up."

"You've always looked nice," I said. "Would you like something to drink?"

"A beer would be great," she said.

I went to the refrigerator and got another beer, poured it in a glass and brought it back to her. Then it occurred to me she wasn't old enough to drink.

"Oh. I shouldn't be giving you a beer, should I? You look so much older dressed the way you are. I'm sorry, what an idiot."

"Don't worry about it," she said. "I've had two today already."

"Well, that's a lot of alcohol. How about a coke?"

She sighed. "Whatever."

I put the beer down on the kitchen sink and got her a glass of coke.

"So. What's on your mind?" I asked extremely curious as to the purpose of her visit.

"I came to apologize . . . for the other day."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Oh, . . . that. Don't worry about it. It's okay. You're under a lot of stress. I understand."

"No, I said some terrible things and I've felt bad about it. You're the one thing Daddy did do right and I feel so rotten about the what I said. You must think I’m terrible."

"Attorneys have thick skins. Don't worry about it. I forgive you."

"You’ve been so wonderful," Erica said. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up in Switzerland. I’ve never been so lonely as I was that first night. Just hearing your voice and knowing you were coming gave me such great comfort."

"I'm glad I was able to help," I said. "I think coming to your rescue was good therapy for me too. It’s so difficult when you loose someone you love."

She sighed. "You know I think the shock of losing Daddy is just now setting in. I've been so depressed and lonely I can hardly stand it. I hope you don’t mind me coming by."

As I listened to Erica, memories of the torture I felt after Paula's death came rushing back to me. For weeks I stayed alone in my apartment, eating nothing but drinking everything in the liquor cabinet. On one particular weekend Joe called me and when I didn't answer he came over looking for me. He found me unconscious in my room. After that he insisted I get some counseling and I eventually learned to cope with the loss. When I looked at Erica I could feel her pain. It occurred to me that she was in a very vulnerable state. It would be easy for her to turn to alcohol or drugs to ease her suffering. I couldn't let that happen.

"No, not at all. I know exactly how you feel. . . . Hey! I've got an idea. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact I'm famished," she said.

"I've got reservations at the Mansion. You want to come?"

She raised her eyebrows. "The Mansion? . . . . Oh yes, but-."

"I know this is weird, but what the hell," I said. " We both need a night out on the town."

She laughed. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you like the theater?"

"Of course," she said. "I'm going to be a drama major at SMU. You know that."

"Good, I've got theater tickets."

"You do?"

"Am I good, or what?" I said feeling like a knight saving a damsel in distress.

Erica responded by shaking her head in disbelief.

"Oh, I've got you a corsage too."

Erica laughed again. "Am I missing something here?"

"Oh, you didn't know I was psychic, did you?"

"No, you didn't mention that."

"I'm just kidding. I'll explain all this later. For now lets just say you picked a good day to visit."

"I guess so."

I took the corsage out of the trash without Erica seeing me and brought it over to her. I noticed she had traded the beer I'd left on the counter for the coke I had given her. I didn't say anything, although I guess I should have.

"Oh! Thank you. It's so beautiful. The orchids go well with my dress," Erica said as she held the corsage up against her bosom. "Would you pin it on for me?"

"Sure," I said and then slid my hand beneath her dress so I could fasten the corsage. She smiled at me as I worked. When it was securely fastened, I stepped back and took a good look at it. Erica stood up straight as if posing for a camera.

"Boy that looks good on you."

"Thanks."

I looked at my watch. "Well, we better hurry we've got reservations at six. It's nearly ten of so we better go. We don't want them to give our table away," I said.

After recovering the torn-up tickets from the back seat of my car we took off. As we drove towards our destination I started to have second thoughts about what I was doing. What was I thinking when I invited Erica out? It wouldn't look good if someone saw us. I glanced over at her and she smiled. Obviously it was too late to cancel the evening. I'd just have to be discreet and get her home early. It wasn't likely anyone would see us. When we arrived it was a little after six so we didn't have to wait long before we were seated. The waiter took our cocktail order and then disappeared.

"I love this place. Daddy used to bring me here all the time," Erica said.

"He did? This is only the second time I’ve been here."

"Yes, I think they have a seat with his name on it at the bar," she said.

I laughed. "Is that right?"

Erica sighed. "I feel so much better than I did an hour ago."

"Me too. I thought I was destined to spend a lonely night working."

"So, you're glad I stopped by?" Erica asked.

I looked at her not knowing how I should respond. I was very happy she had stopped by but I didn't want her to know it. I had to keep my professional distance.

"A little companionship is always nice," I said.

She smiled. "The condo is so quiet at night. It's spooky sometimes. With Daddy there I never gave it a thought. But since I’ve been back from Switzerland I’ve been on edge. Every noise I hear scars the shit out of me."

It occurred to me she might want to reconsider staying with her Aunt Martha in Odessa but I kept that thought to myself. "Don't you have any friends you can invite over?"

"Usually I have my best friend, Monica, over on the weekends but she had to go to a wedding."

"Oh. Don't you have a boyfriend?" I asked.

Erica seemed startled by the questions. "No, nothing serious."

"Well, that’s hard to believe. A girl-" I stopped myself afraid she might think I was hitting on her. "I mean . . . ah . . . you just strike me as someone who would have men falling all over you."

She laughed, "Oh, sure a lot of boys ask me out but most of them are so immature I can hardly stand it."

"Well, girls mature more quickly than guys," I said thinking it was time to change the subject. "So what are you going to do this summer when school's out?"

"I guess I'm going to get a job since Daddy left me penniless."

"That's a good idea," I said, impressed by her sudden display of maturity.

The waiter brought our drinks and took our orders. I cringed at the prices of the entrees. I knew it was an expensive restaurant but this was unreal. Erica noted my alarm and said, "Don't worry, you're on duty, you can charge it to my trust fund."

I laughed and said, "No, this is on me. . . . What do you want?"

"Let's see. I think I'll have the lobster."

The waiter noted her order and then looked at me.

"I'll take the filet, medium," I said.

The waiter finished up the order and left.

"So what did you and your Daddy usually do on the weekends?"

Erica smiled and thought a moment. "I don't know. Sometimes he'd take me to Six Flags. That was always fun. We loved Judge Roy Scream and the Texas Twister."

"Paula and I used to go to Six Flags every once in a while too. We always enjoyed it a lot. The River Raft ride was my favorite ride, particularly on a hot summer day."

"Oh, I loved that one too. We'd always get soaking wet. I remember one time Daddy's watch got wet. It was one of those fancy sport watches with an alarm. I guess the water short circuited the mechanism which caused the alarm to go off constantly. It was so funny. It wouldn't stop. Everybody kept looking at us as we walked through the park. Daddy stuck it in his pocket but it was still just as loud as ever. He tried like hell to get it to stop but it wouldn't. He was so embarrassed. Finally he threw it away in a trash can. You could still hear it beeping as we walked off.

"Twenty minutes later we happened to be walking back through the same area where we left the watch. Much to our shock the bomb squad had been called and a half dozen men were carefully examining the trash can."

I laughed. "Oh no. What did you do?"

"We just turned around and got the hell out of there."

We both laughed. The waiter showed up with our orders and a bottle of wine. He filled our glasses never questioning Erica's age. I didn't want to embarrass her so I kept my mouth shut. Everything looked and smelled wonderful so we dug in eagerly. As I watched Erica eat I couldn't help but think how incredibly beautiful she was. It felt so good to be out on the town with such an elegant young lady. We talked and laughed as we enjoyed the incredible cuisine that was placed before us. It was nearly seven when we finally left and drove to the Majestic Theater.

I’d had enough wine such that I was feeling pretty carefree. The usher looked at me rather oddly when I handed him the torn up tickets, but luckily he didn't say anything to humiliate me. We got to our seats just as the show was about to begin. As we were being seated I suddenly became concerned that someone I knew might see me with Erica. I looked around, but all I saw were strangers which made me feel better. After a few minutes the lights went out and the show began.

As I was watching the play intently Erica snuggled up to me and put her head on my shoulder. My instinct was to gently push her away even though it felt good having her so close to me. Then I thought perhaps this was something she did with her father. It was probably just an innocent gesture that didn't mean anything. I certainly didn't want to embarrass her. But then she slid her arm on top of mine. Startled, I looked over at her. She smiled and then took my hand in hers and gripped it tightly. I became aroused and I could hardly breathe. She began playing with my hand, running her fingernails gently back and forth and squeezing it tenderly. It felt so wonderful I couldn't move. Then she lifted my hand to her mouth and kissed it. I pulled it away.

"Erica, what are you doing?" I whispered. She gave me a hurt look and then sat up straight and turned toward the stage without responding. I felt horrible. I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the show. I wondered what she was thinking. On the way home she acted as if nothing had happened so I didn't press the issue. We talked about the show, the dinner we had enjoyed together and how much she loved her new Porsche. She told me about what classes she would be taking next semester at SMU and how she wanted to be an actress or a model when she graduated. Erica suggested I take her home rather to my place to get her car as she was too tired and intoxicated to drive.

It was nearly midnight when we arrived at her condo. She asked me to walk her to the door as it was dark and she was afraid. When we got to her front door she asked me to come in and see the place since I had never been there before. I said no, but she took my arm and pulled me inside. Once inside she put on some soft music and then excused herself to go to the bathroom. While I was waiting I checked out some pictures displayed on the TV. I noticed one of Franklin and Carmen Fox before a tennis match. They looked so happy. He was very handsome and athletic. Suddenly I felt another rush of guilt. What was I doing in Erica's home? It wasn't right, I had to get out of there. I heard the bathroom door open. I turned and there was Erica in a pair of lilac satin pajamas with boxer shorts. She had let her hair down and had only bothered to button one of four buttons on her pajamas top. My eyes were drawn to her long, luscious legs. They were smooth and finely tanned.

"Did you make us a drink?" She said and then moved to the sofa and sat down.

"No, we've both had enough, don't you think? You shouldn't be drinking at your age anyway."

"Daddy didn't care. Why should you?"

I smiled politely. "Listen, it's been a wonderful evening. I've really enjoyed your company but I better be going."

"Don't go yet. Let's relax and talk awhile. Come sit down."

"No, you look like you're ready for bed. It's late. You must be really tired."

"Do you like my pajamas?" Erica asked.

I gave her a good look. She made a little move like she was a model. "Yes, they're really cute."

"I'm glad. I bought them especially for you."

"What?" I said suddenly realizing Erica's behavior all night had been less than innocent.

"I was looking at a short black nightgown, but it didn't feel right," she said. "I didn't think you'd go for the slut look."

I blinked just to be sure I wasn't dreaming. "Really?" I said as my pulse quickened.

"Why don't you take off your coat?" Erica said with a seductive wink.

I lingered a moment actually considering her suggestion. Then I came to my senses. "I don't think so," I said and then turned to leave."I'll see you tomorrow when you're sober. Call me when you want to retrieve your car and I'll come get you."

Erica frowned as I walked to the door. I gave her one last smile and left. My heart was pounding as I got into my car. I couldn't believe I had actually considered fucking her. I closed my eyes and thanked God that I had been strong. I jumped as I heard someone pounding on my window. It was Erica. I rolled it down quickly.

"What the hell?"

"You left so quickly, I didn't have a chance to ask you if you'd take me to church tomorrow."

I couldn't believe Erica was standing out at the curb in her pajamas. I looked around to see if anyone had seen her. Luckily nobody was around.

"Erica, go back in the house. Someone might see you."

"I will, but first tell me. Will you take me?"

"To church?"

"Yeah, remember the last time we went to church. We had a great time."

"I don't think so."

"Come on, it will be good for both of us."

I saw the lights of a car coming up the street. I looked in my rear view mirror to get a better look. "Okay, okay. I'll take you to church. Now get in the house, someone's coming."

Erica put her arms around my neck and thanked me with a passionate kiss. Then she scampered back into the condo. I quickly drove off before the occupants of the approaching car could identify me or see my license plates clearly. I couldn't believe Erica's behavior. She obviously had some kind of teenage infatuation for me. Now what was I going to do? How could I explain taking her to dinner, the theater and then ending up in her condo? What if someone saw her in her pajamas kissing me through the window of my car? Oh Jesus, I'd be screwed.

That night I couldn't sleep. But it wasn't fear that prevented my slumber. It was erotic thoughts of Erica. She was so alluring, so provocative and worst of all she apparently wanted me. But why? Why not someone her own age? I knew it was wrong to get involved with her and I had to muster every ounce of strength possible to resist her. But how should I go about doing that? Should I resign as trustee? If I did that she might seek revenge and concoct a story of how I seduced her. She may even claim we made love. Damn it! How did I get into this mess? Maybe if I talked to Peter he'd know what to do. Then again he would have the firm's interest at heart. He might want me to resign. I couldn't bear that. I didn't know what do. I had to talk to somebody so I called Joe. Unfortunately he didn't answer. I finally fell asleep and was awakened the next morning by the telephone.

"Good morning," Erica said.

"Oh. . . . Hi, Erica," I said as I looked over at the clock radio and saw it was 9:00 a.m.

"How do you feel? You gotta headache?" she asked.

"I don't know yet, I haven't got up. How are you feeling?"

"I feel great. We had such great fun last night, didn't we? God, I can’t believe you took me to the Mansion. I can’t wait to tell Monica."

"Listen, Erica, about last night."

"Oh, the microwave alarm just went off. I gotta go. Mass is at ten. Pick me up at 9:45. Bye."

"Erica," I said but the phone went dead. I shook my head and hung it up. I got up, took a shower and got dressed. It occurred to me that it might be best not to pick Erica up. If I sent a cab to get her with a note explaining the impropriety of our meeting socially, maybe she'd understand. Then again she might be totally pissed off and do something rash. That seemed the more likely scenario as she seemed somewhat headstrong. I had no choice but to go along with her game. Despite the perilous predicament I found myself in, I felt a tinge of excitement as I got in my car and headed for Erica's condo.

It was a cool, breezy spring day. It had rained during the night and the air had that clean smell that I loved. When I pulled down Erica's street numerous people were out walking their dogs, jogging and working in their yards. There was no way Erica and I could leave without a half dozen people observing us. I took a deep breath and walked up to Erica's door. I looked at my watch. It was 9:52. I knocked. She opened the door quickly.

"You're late," she said as she came out and closed the door behind her. She was wearing a white crepe suit with a ruffled jacket. She had put on much less makeup and consequently looked much younger than she had the previous evening.

"Let's hurry or we won't get a seat," she said.

"Is it that crowded?" I asked as we walked to the car.

"Yes, ten o'clock Mass is the busiest. We may have to stand."

We jumped in the car and quickly drove off. I didn't know where the church was located so Erica gave me directions. It wasn't five minutes before we pulled into the huge parking lot of All Saints Church. Erica was right, it was packed. When we got inside we spotted a couple of seats in one of the back pews and managed to squeeze our way into them. Erica knelt down to pray for a minute. As I watched her I wondered what was going through her mind. Was she calculating her next move or was she really praying. She gave the sign of the cross and sat back.

"This is a beautiful church," I said.

"Isn't it?" she replied. "I’m glad they didn’t make it really modern like most of the new churches they are building nowadays.

"Do you go to church regularly?"

"No, not since Mom left."

"Really? What made you want to go today."

She gave me a pensive look. "I don't know. Maybe to thank God for bringing you into my life."

I didn't know how to respond so I was glad to see the service beginning. As I watched Erica celebrate the Mass so seriously I wondered if I had misjudged what was going on with her. Maybe it was my own sordid mind that was the problem. Maybe she was innocent after all. When the Mass was over Erica insisted I meet her priest, Father David. I told her that probably wasn't a good idea but she insisted.

"Father David, this is my friend, Richard Coleman," Erica said.

"Hi, Mr. Coleman," Father David said. "It's nice to meet you."

I nodded and we shook hands.

"Rich was Daddy's attorney. Daddy asked him to watch out for me if anything happened to him."

"He did, did he?" Father David said and then gave me quick once over. "Since he got you to church I would say he's off to a good start."

"Well, I think Erica has expanded my responsibilities a little. He actually appointed me to manage her money," I said. "Church was her idea."

"Are you a Catholic, Mr. Coleman."

"Yes, but I'm afraid I haven't been too devout."

"Then today is truly a wondrous day. Two lost children have returned home," he said and then excused himself to tend to other duties.

As we were driving back to my apartment I felt a little sad about sending Erica home. It was a beautiful day and neither of us had anything in particular to do. I looked over at her and she smiled. As we pulled up behind her Porsche I turned to her and said, "Are you hungry?"

Erica went home to change. I had promised to pick her up at noon. I went inside and started banging my head against the wall. What was I doing? Jesus Christ, was I insane! I convinced myself that a little lunch wouldn't hurt anything. We'd eat. I'd take her home and this bizarre weekend would be history. I changed into some jeans and a blue plaid shirt then I drove back to her condo. She let me in and told me to have a seat while she finished doing her hair. I took a seat and waited. When she finally emerged from the bedroom she was wearing a burnt orange turtleneck sweater and brown stretch velvet jeans. She had pulled her hair back into a ponytail and wrapped it with a big gold band. She came over and stood before me.

"You ready to go?" she said.

I held out my hand and she pulled me up. "What do you feel like," I said.

"I don't know. Whatever you want."

"How about pizza, " I said.

"Mmm, I love pizza. There's a Pizza Inn not too far from here."

"Good. Show me the way."

The hostess seated us in a quiet booth in the back of the restaurant. We ordered a medium pizza, half pepperoni for me and half vegetable for Erica. I noticed several fathers watching the Ranger game in one corner while their kids played video games. It was pretty dark so I felt fairly sure no one would see us.

"Do you think it was smart introducing me to your Priest?" I said.

"Yes. He would have thought it strange if I hadn't introduced you to him. He was a big help to me after mother left and then when Daddy died. I got to know him pretty well."

I nodded. "So are you a Ranger fan?" I asked.

"Sure, Daddy has season tickets right behind home plate."

"Really?"

"Uh huh. Daddy and I would probably be at the game right now if-"

"I'm sorry,." I said wishing I hadn't brought it up.

"It's okay. We should go sometime. You'll love our seats."

The waitress brought our pizza over and set it on the table. The guys watching the game let out a scream as someone hit a home run. Erica looked over at them and smiled.

"So, how about it." she said. "You want to go to game next week?"

"You know I can't do that Erica," I said giving her a solemn look. "Listen, this weekend's been fun, but we've got to go back to a professional relationship. When we get together in the future it's at the office, okay?"

"Okay," Erica said. "But the weekend's not over yet."

"Huh?" I said.

She smiled, grabbed her purse and opened it. I watched her intently as she pulled out two tickets.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Daddy's season passes to Six Flags."

It was mid-afternoon when we walked through the front gates of Six Flags Over Texas in Arlington. Don't ask me how Erica talked me into taking her there but I was learning quickly that Erica always got her way. Soon we were in line for Judge Roy Scream. Luckily it was a cool spring day because the line was long. I scanned the crowd carefully praying I wouldn't see anyone I knew. Finally we got up to the front of the line. The car pulled up and stopped abruptly. I jumped in first and Erica followed. As the safety bars descended into place she grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly. I smiled and shook my head. The car took off and we were pulled slowly up to the top of the first crest. As we plunged downward, Erica screamed with delight. I grabbed onto the side of the car to brace myself as we sailed around the first vicious turn. When we plunged again down the second vertical drop I almost lost my pizza. Erica looked at me and laughed. I guess I must have looked green. Finally the car came to a halt and I breathed a sigh of relief. We got out and Erica immediately led us to the Parachute Drop. Fortunately we had to wait in line so I had time to recover. By sunset we had ridden most everything that Six Flags had to offer so we stopped at one of the shows.

While we watched a dazzling display of the History of American Music, Erica took my hand and put her head on my shoulder again. Although I should have shunned her display of affection I didn't. I figured no one would see us and soon the night would be over and we'd be going our separate ways. At eight o'clock I suggested we go home as I had to go to work on Monday. Erica reluctantly agreed and we got in the car and headed back towards Dallas. While we were passing by Steak and Ale, she begged me to stop for dinner. By this time I knew there was no saying no to this lady so I pulled in the parking lot. Once we were seated the waitress stopped to take our drink order. Erica ordered a Marguerita without salt. I got a rum and Coke. During dinner Erica wanted to know all about my past. I wasn't usually an open person but Erica soon had me telling her my most intimate secrets. I don't know why but I couldn't resist her.

By the time we got home it was nearly eleven o'clock. Erica insisted I come in as she said she was afraid to go into an empty apartment so late at night. After checking all the rooms I started to leave. Erica walked in front of the door blocking my escape.

She smiled and put her arms around my neck. "Don't go yet. Have a seat. You can pour us drink while I go to the bathroom."

"Erica, come on. You know I have to leave."

"No you don't," she said sternly. "Just relax. I'll be right back."

She escorted me over to the sofa and waited for me to sit down before she left. I knew I should leave but I was mesmerized. Erica had me in her control and she knew it. I waited a few minutes and then got up and went to the bar. I filled up a shot with bourbon and drank it down quickly. I winced from the sting of the alcohol and then poured another. I heard the door open so I turned around and saw Erica standing in the doorway. She was wearing a black camisole bodysuit under a sheer black robe. I nearly fainted.

"Did you pour me one?" she said as she went to the sofa, sat down and crossed her legs. I fixed her a drink and brought it to her. I looked down at her, my mind in a fog, until she grabbed my hand and made me sit next to her. We talked for twenty or thirty minutes consuming several more cocktails in the process. Finally she put her arm around me and gave me a kiss. Her lips were so sweet and she smelled so good I was instantly electrified. I swung myself around, pulled her lips to mine and squeezed her passionately. As our tongues frolicked joyously I was struck by a sudden flash of guilt. I stood up abruptly.

"Jesus, Erica. We can't be doing this," I said as I gazed into her disappointed eyes.

I took a deep breath and went to the door. My mistake was taking one last look. She had removed her robe and pulled down the top of her bodysuit exposing her luscious breasts. She held out her hands beckoning me to come to her. I went to her and wrapped her in my arms. She pushed me back a little and started unbuttoning my shirt as I looked into her dark calculating eyes. After tossing it to the floor she popped the bottom button on her bodysuit and pulled it over her head. She stood up straight for a moment, posing proudly before me. I picked her up, carried her into her bedroom and we collapsed onto the bed. I quickly removed my pants while I watched her pull the covers over her naked body. Hastily, I got into bed and I pursued her beneath the sheets. She let out a painful, joyful scream and then began to moan as we became one. Her body was so warm and smelled so sweet I was numb with delight. I don't know how long we made love but when I woke up the next morning I was very sore. Erica was still asleep so I just snuggled up close to her warm body and held her tightly. I was feeling kind of a sober intoxication that protected me from rational thought. It was a wonderful state of semi-consciousness that I hoped would never go away.

Unfortunately, it didn't last. By the time Erica started to wake up I was starting to come to appreciate how badly I had fucked-up. What was I thinking going to bed with a seventeen year old client who I was supposed to be protecting? As I rolled out of bed, my head pounded from the effects of too much alcohol. I went into the bathroom and tossed cold water on my face to try to clear my head. Then I felt two warm hands surround my waist.

"Good morning," Erica said.

I sighed and then turned around and looked at her standing there naked, and so proud. I began to get aroused but suddenly felt sick.

"What's wrong?"

"I guess I had too much to drink last night?"

"You were drinking that bourbon like it was lemonade."

"Was I?"

"Uh huh."

"Come back to bed and rest.. That was fun last night, wasn’t it."

"It was, no doubt but . . . we can't be doing this?"

"You keep saying that," Erica said and turned and walked into the bedroom. She grabbed a blue velvet kimono and put it on. I slipped on some underpants. "Why can't we do it?"

"Your under age."

"I'm almost eighteen."

"But not yet."

"Who's gonna know?"

"I'm also your trustee. I've got a fiduciary duty to you. I can't be sleeping with you."

"Well, it's a little late to worry about that now, isn't it?" she laughed.

"Oh, God. How did this happen?" I said.

"Don't worry about it. I won't tell anybody you stole my virginity, if you don't."

I frowned. "You were a virgin?"

"Of course, what do you think I'm some kind of slut?"

"No, of course not, but I really don’t know much about you."

"You made it so easy. It was just as wonderful as I had always dreamed it would be. Thank you," she said.

"Thank you?"

"For being considerate. You waited until I was ready. I thought you'd go off early."

I laughed. "If you're a virgin, how could you possibly judge my performance."

"I subscribe to Seventeen," she said.

"Oh, I see," I said as I shook my head in amazement over her cool demeanor. Well, I'm glad I pleased you, but I'm serious. We can't mention this to anyone."

"I won't tell a soul. I promise."

"It's not going to be easy keeping something like this secret," I said.

She smiled. "We'll be careful."

"No, you don’t understand. We can't do this again," I said sternly.

She laughed and shook her head. "Yes we can. We're going to have a very long, enjoyable and profitable relationship together."

"Profitable?"

"Right. Remember what you told me about in Switzerland?"

"I told you a lot of things."

"Remember telling me about your investment club, the Wall Street Wizards. You said you made over a sixty percent return on your money?"

"In theory."

"It wasn't theory as I recall. It was real, you just didn't actually have the money to make the trades, right?"

"Yeah."

"So I want you to take my $50,000 and make it multiply just like you did in the little game you played."

"I can't take any risks with your money. There are strict rules."

"But I want you to. I want you to use all those tricks you told me about to make me a millionaire."

I shook my head. "No, it's too risky. You could lose everything," I said.

"It's okay, it's my money. I'll release you from any liability."

"You can't, you're a minor," I said as I began rubbing my temples. My head was throbbing. "Oh God! I just committed a felony!"

Erica came up from behind me and began rubbing my shoulders. "Relax. I won't press charges."

"You don't have to. The DA could go for an indictment on his own."

"But, I love you," Erica said.

I turned around and looked at her. "You love me?"

"Yes, anyway, I thought you were going to get me emancipated so I could stay in Dallas. Won't that make me an adult?"

I looked at her is disbelief. She had everything figured out. "I suppose."

"Then once I'm emancipated I'll sign whatever you want me to sign just to cover your cute little ass."

She let me go and walked a few feet away, her back to me. "Erica. Come on. You could lose everything if I miscalculate or we have any bad luck."

"I don't care, I have complete faith in you. You'll do fine and you'll make five percent to boot."

I walked over to her and put my hands on her shoulders gently. She looked up at me. "I don't care about that, I just want what's best for you."

"Then make my money multiply," she said staring into my eyes.

I backed off and turned away from her. "You don't know what you're asking." Then I began to wonder. Maybe I could make her money multiply. I had done it plenty of times before on paper. Why couldn't I do it for real? If I was successful it would make up for my mistake in not sending off the policy change form.

"Yes I do, you're just afraid to face the real world. It's so easy to play your little game where you can't lose anything. Why don't you use your talents to make us some real money?"

I turned around and glared at her. "I don't care what you say, I can't gamble with your money."

"Yes you can and you will," she said coldly. "Our relationship has gone too far for you to quit now."

She was right. I had to do exactly as she wanted. One word from her about our sexual encounter and I was ruined. I should have been outraged at being blackmailed, but I wasn't. Instead, I felt an incredible high, like I'd been sniffing cocaine. Somehow I'd lost control of my life but, for some reason, instead of feeling despair, a sense of relief overcame me. It was difficult to even pretend I was still in control.

"Alright, but I don't want to hear any whining if I lose all your money."

She gave me a faint smile."You'll do it then?"

"It doesn't appear I have a choice."

Her smile broadened. "No, you don't," she said as she put her arms around me. She pushed me up against the wall and began caressing my tongue with hers. I untied her robe and began massaging her breasts. She removed my underpants, then I slipped my hands beneath her thighs and pulled her toward me. She whimpered joyfully as we were united for the second time. Never in my life had I felt so exhilarated, so alive. We had begun a forbidden relationship which excited and aroused us beyond belief.

It was nearly eleven when Erica made us breakfast. As we ate I started to worry about the mechanics of keeping our romance a secret. As I was thinking I looked over at Erica and saw that she was staring at me.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just so happy. I can't believe you're mine."

I shook my head. "Where did you come from anyway?"

"From your wildest dreams."

"I don't think so. None of my dreams have ever come close to this."

She raised her eyebrows and took a bite of her toast.

I said. "Listen, you've got to promise me one thing."

She took a sip of orange juice and then licked her lips. "What?"

"You won't tell anyone what we're doing. I mean nobody. Not your friends, your priest or anybody, okay? I could get in a lot of trouble over this."

"I'm not stupid. I won't tell a soul. You can trust me."

I shook my head. "God, I hope I don't regret this."

She smiled confidently. "You won't, I promise."