by Martin Maenza
A month later, in a small but well-maintained institution in Upstate New York, there was a knock on the door. “Yes?!” Sabrina Sultress snapped as she lounged on a Davenport.
A woman in a white uniform entered the room. “Miss Sultress, there is a visitor to see you,” the young woman announced. “If you will come with me, please.”
“Oh, fine,” Sabrina said, tossing her hardcover book aside. “You’ve already disturbed my reading, anyway.” The former model rose to her feet and followed the orderly down the hall to the stairs. They made their way down to the first floor and to a small conference room.
The orderly motioned for Sabrina to enter the room, then closed the wooden door to allow for a private conversation. She stood outside the room and waited for the discussion to be over.
Sabrina Sultress eyed the man waiting for her. He had long, shoulder-length blonde hair, and he was dressed in a finely tailored suit of forest green with a matching silk tie. She could see the fine stitching in his monogrammed white shirt’s cuffs. “Have we met before?” she asked sternly.
The man smiled. “No, Miss Sultress, we have not. Though I certainly know of your reputation.” His voice was deep but had an enchanting lilt to it. “My card.”
She took the offered card and read it over. “Nathan Nero, attorney. Well, Mr. Nero, what makes you think you can do anything more for me? Despite my last attorney’s efforts, I ended up here.”
The man smiled. “Tell me, my dear,” said Nero. “Right now, what is your heart’s desire?”
Sabrina laughed. “Are you kidding me? I’d give anything to have my former life back. I’d practically sell my soul for that.”
Nero merely nodded as he thought to himself, Now that’s the kind of offer I can’t refuse.