How To Win. Lass Small

way, but it made Tyler feel as if he was on a stage, alone...without a script.

      He’d never realized anyone in the firm had noticed him. Other than his boss, Barbara Nelson.

      He’d lived in a secure niche of anonymity while he was married. Now, divorced, he was loose and vulnerable. He began to understand women who were in the same slot he was in then. He understood Martha’s bundled-up clothing and her lack of animation.

      His meeting with Mr. Reardon was longer than necessary. Tyler had work to do. He was a little restless.

      “I know how you feet,” Mr. Reardon told Tyler. “I’ve been where you are now. It’s been some years ago, but that doesn’t soften such a happening. I know just exactly what you’re going through.”

      So Mr. Reardon got to go through it all again. It was too much. As empathetic as the top gun was, Tyler was busy. He had work to do. No two situations are ever the same. No one knows what another suffers. Mr. Reardon had had an affair, and his first wife had found out.

      Tyler had had no affair. All that he’d done was to try to expand Kayla’s knowledge of adventures. She’d misunderstood, been ungrateful and stubborn. Women are a great nuisance.

      There is no substitute for women.

      That was a very sobering realization. A man married, and that was it! He had a partner for life. To have and to hold. And she’d wiggled away from him and was gone!

      Then Tyler heard that Mr. Reardon was saying with a sigh, “It happens. You’ll get through this in time. We’re all backing you. Chin up!”

      And Tyler was touched. Whatever the big man had been saying, he meant to help. Tyler rose and stood tall. “Thank you, sir.”

      Mr. Reardon inquired kindly, “You sure you don’t want a couple of days off?”

      “No, sir.” Tyler was startled. Had the old man been trying to give him some time off? He said earnestly, “I’d like to get things done.” Then he added gently, “Mother says a man needs distraction. Law is surely that.”

      “Yes, my boy. You’re a good man.” Reardon nodded in agreement with his words. “I’m glad we have you with us. If there’s ever any problem, just let us help.”

      “Thank you, sir.” And Tyler was surprised to find his eyes were moist.

      It got worse when Mr. Reardon stood up and came around the desk to put an arm over Tyler’s shoulders. “I’m glad we had this talk. Remember, you’re one of us.”

      Really touched, Tyler almost choked on his emotions. “Thank you, sir.”

      “I’m here, my boy. Anytime.”

      And he escorted Tyler to the door where they shook hands.

      Imagine that. Tyler walked unseeing down the corridor. Just imagine that whole place being aware of one little, wet-eared lawyer. He was brilliant, of course, but not everyone of the firm had that knowledge, as yet.

      He went back to his desk and sat down in the shared office.

      His office mate was Jamie Oliver. Jamie asked, “Everything go okay?”

      And Tyler swung his chair around and said with the amazement he felt, “The old man wanted to know if I’m okay.”

      “You foul up something? How can I help?”

      And Tyler laughed. But he was again touched. Even Jamie was on his side. Not even competitive! He just asked to help. And Tyler’s eyes got wet again.

      Jamie got up and came over very seriously to lean down. “What is it?”

      “They wanted to help me get through this problem with Kayla. It’s been a while. They thought I needed help. I turned down a drink with Nelson.”

      Jamie frowned at Tyler. “That was rash. I’d jump at any chance like that.”

      Tyler laughed. “‘You’re a better man than I, Gunga Din.”’

      “I know.” And Jamie walked back to his chair, sat, rolled his chair in to his desk and was immediately absorbed in the papers.

      That evening with his parents, Tyler told his dad about the firm’s head honcho. “I was surprised. It never occurred to me anyone else would understand.”

      “We all understand,” his dad assured his son. “Have you seen the darlin’ lately?”

      Well, Tyler surely knew Kayla was the “darlin’” mentioned. And he was a little irritated to have her called a darling. She was the one who’d left him. A bit stilted, Tyler replied, “No.”

      His father sighed rather too heavily and lamented, “How did you let her get away?”

      And, unfortunately, Tyler snapped, “I was only trying to educate her and—” But he didn’t get to explain.

      His father looked up at his own son in aghast shock! “You hurt her?”

      “No! Good gravy, Dad! I took her to see what had garnered such a crowd and found out there was a dogfight! I’d never seen one and thought she would be curious, too.”

      And his father’s face changed from alarm to indignation. “You took that fragile flower to a dogfight?” His voice squeaked up rather remarkably. “They’re illegal.”

      And with seriousness, Tyler went on. “I know that. I’ve contacted the state police. I’ve offered to be a witness.” He was deadly. “She was not frightened. She bought four of the dogs and put them in the car. I had to walk home!”

      His father stared for the count of three, then his closed mouth stretched out, his body began to jiggle and after that the laughter rolled.

      Tyler stood trying to get in some logical, adult information. But with the hilarity of his father’s misguided sense of humor, Tyler finally gave up. He left his parents’ house, slammed the door, shaking the entire, bulky structure, and went to his own apartment.

      Then he went back for his car and drove it to the apartment. He turned off the phone bell and in spite of his lengthy walk to retrieve his car, he had one hell of a time trying to calm down and sleep that night.

      Now, how and why was it that everyone in the sprawled-out city of the diversified San Antonio learned what that Fuller family conversation had been? Guess.

      Even the whisperings and giggles and guffaws at the office were to be endured. In just a couple of days, look at the turnaround of the whole layout of his life...from compassion to hilarity.

      Tyler was sober, businesslike and he ignored the snorts of laughter. The only one who showed any sympathy, at all, was his office mate, Jamie.

      Jamie said, “Sometime, when you can handle it, I’ll tell you what happened to me. But from my own experience, I can give you this—you’ll live. Ignore the pack. They have little sunlight in their lives. You’ve given them this magic moment.” Jamie never looked up from his computer. His voice was moderate. He did not laugh.

      Oddly, the joke on Tyler eased all the firm people’s acquired facade. What had happened to Tyler was worse than most of what had happened to them. Such a public put-down as he’d had made Tyler vulnerable. And they all understood vulnerability.

      But it made his boss, Barbara Nelson, eager to soothe Tyler.

      Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

      He complained to Jamie.

      Jamie said, “She can soothe me.”

      Distracted, irritated, Tyler said, “I’ll tell her.”

      “Get my name right. She calls me Johnny.”

      So Tyler explained her mistake. “People in control of many others have some difficulty with names.”

      “She sure as hell knows yours.”

      “I’m