Picture Perfect

Chapter 20- Part 1

"What the hell was that in there?" Ken demands, slamming his hand down on the table before him. He leans over the rectangular wooden structure irately, his hardened gaze locked on Andrew. It's evident from his demeanor that Ken is livid, anger practically seeping out of his pores; Andrew unflinchingly receives the highly abnormal reaction. As the victim of the verbal assault stares back at the inflictor of the barrage of razor-edged words, he's certain he can almost see steam coming from the other man's ears. "Are you trying to lose this case?" Ken accuses, failing to grasp an understanding of the current predicament.

Andrew understands that Ken's question is rhetorical, but he isn't sure he'd be able to bring himself to answer, regardless. He remains unfalteringly silent as the harsh words and unyielding vehemence continue to assail him. A mask of indifference remains securely against Andrew's features as his partner continues the tongue-lashing without reprieve. He accepts it willingly, deservingly, allowing it to temporarily distract him from his personal hell.

"You're our best defense attorney, Dalton! I know this case is high-profile, but I was confident it would be a walk in the park for you," Ken shouts, the unwavering emotion sizzling beneath his skin and projecting itself outward like porcupine quills. He's never been so impenetrably furious before, specifically and especially at Andrew Dalton.

Blinking slowly, Andrew receives the metaphorical daggers thrown at him, allowing them to slice through him. He's unable to fight back, to coherently defend himself against the attack. His mind is elsewhere, his consciousness overtaken by something far worse than Ken's apparent disapproval of his behavior. It's something much more consequential than potentially destroying his case. It's burned directly into his soul, consuming his very existence; it's something that no one else could ever understand. He acknowledges it warily, the fog in his mind repetitively relaying his deficiencies and inadequacies that have ultimately led to the catastrophe that is his potential downfall; it's all he can see.

"Just tell me where your head is at," Ken grunts, his chest heaving under his white dress shirt. "It's not like you to be distracted," he continues, his voice revealing an unexpected yet wholly appreciated smidge of worry.

A thousand thoughts burst through Andrew's mind at once as he tries to articulate a response. His wife is pregnant. His mistress is also pregnant and is insistently pursuing more than he can give her. His past is literally haunting him, invading his sleep, and leaving him restless and on edge. His life is a mess, and he's losing control entirely. He fucked up his picture-perfect image, exposing himself to his mother-in-law of all people.

Ken takes the silence as an opening to thoroughly observe his friend. He had neglected to notice Andrew's less than perfect appearance until now. His eyes rake over the man before him, taking note of the five o'clock shadow on his jaw, the puffiness of his eyes, and the haphazard style of his hair. Andrew looks like an absolute train wreck; this is something that he's never experienced before. Ken's chest tightens as he realizes the tragedy that is Andrew Dalton at this moment. "Are you okay?" he forces out quietly, immediately diverting Andrew's attention back to him.

With the aftershocks of his recurrent nightmares still torturing him, Ken's words send a bolt of terror down Andrew's spine. He hadn't expected such a question, nor had he anticipated such raw and unfiltered concern in his friend's voice. Especially after that lackluster performance in the courtroom. Taken aback by the conversation's change of direction, Andrew opens his mouth to reply, "I'm fine."

Instead, his lips and tongue work against him, spewing many thoughts and feelings he had no intention of sharing with anyone at all, including Ken Roscoe. Andrew can't stop the verbal regurgitation, though. His heart pours itself out, his soul laying itself bare until there's no longer anything to be kept concealed inside. Vulnerable, Andrew snaps his mouth shut and clenches his teeth, every thought in his head plainly displayed for all to see.

The pity reflecting in Ken's eyes fills Andrew with hatred, and he mentally admonishes himself for being weak and pathetic. Everything his father taught him not to be.

Dropping himself heavily into a chair, Roscoe takes a deep breath and rubs a hand over his face. His breathing levels as the anger dissipates, his mind searching for an appropriate response to the unexpected emotional outpouring he's just witnessed. "You can't go on like this," he says softly, his gaze meeting Andrew's once again. "We need to find a way to alleviate some of your stress."

'We?' Andrew thinks to himself, struggling to comprehend how his problems suddenly became their problems.

Before Andrew can reply, Ken states, "We'll start by removing Maria as your secretary. Until we find a suitable replacement, Sherry from Accounting can get the job done properly. I believe you'll find her acceptable. She's not nearly as high-maintenance as Maria, and she's impeccably professional." A diabolical expression crosses Ken's face, and in a low and unforgiving tone, he adds, "In the meantime, we'll rope the guys into helping us rid of Maria Ortiz indefinitely."

An inexplicable thrill sparks to life deep in Andrew's stomach at the idea of finally freeing himself of the parasite that is Maria Ortiz. Had he known about her unsavory and borderline psychotic tendencies, he would have saved himself from consorting with her in the first place. As it's utterly impossible to turn back time and avoid intimately engaging with Maria altogether, annihilating her sounds like a satisfactory solution. In fact, the more Andrew contemplates the idea, the stronger his elation grows; his mind spins with possible ways to eradicate his problem by entirely eliminating the source.

Detecting the shift in the air and the subtle change in Andrew's attitude, a devious smirk encases Ken's lips. This is precisely the reaction he had been hoping for; Ken Roscoe has waited far too long to exact his revenge, and he will be damned if he permits this opportunity to slip through his fingers.