The Footstool: A Christian Short Story Collection Page 9
*
Evan sat at his desk Monday morning, staring out the window when the phone rang.
The voice said, “I’m calling on behalf of Dr. Stein. He appreciated your service but has selected a new lawyer to represent him. He wishes you all of the best.”
Evan had the feeling he knew exactly who was now representing Dr. Stein. He stood up from his chair and took Tara’s card from his wallet. Looking at the card, he responded, “I am sorry to hear that. Give him my best regards.”
He hung up the phone and grabbed his briefcase. He impatiently punched the elevator button until the doors opened. The elevator descended to the lobby. He jumped in a taxi and read the address to the driver. As they crossed town, he wondered which he should concentrate on first: wooing Tara or berating her for stealing his client.
Before he had come to a decision, the driver stopped at a pretentious looking office with too many fountains and ferns. Evan marched in the building demanding to see Tara Bolling.
The mousy brunette stared at him through bottle cap glasses with familiar eyes. “I am Tara Bolling.”
“No, you’re not! I met her; she’s a tall blond that stole my client.”
She said, “Evan, good to see you again. Oh yes, the blond one. I only wear that skin on my birthday.” Tara pressed a code, which opened two automated doors revealing hundreds of human and animal skins. The lifeless skin of the blond he had met at the theatre was draped on a swivel chair, creased and naked.
“What are you? Some kind of alien poaching humans for their skins?” Evan walked inside with the brunette version of Tara at his heels.
“Nothing is wasted. I reuse the skins, and the insides are so tasty.” She licked her lips.
Evan decided to focus on getting himself out alive. He turned to search her eyes for compassion. “We were made for each other, you know?”
“I know,” Tara said as she pressed a button that shut the doors. She reached in her desk and withdrew a knife. “You have great skin.”