Chapter 1

We've seen a glimpse of this man's deepest and darkest struggle. We've peered with perfect impunity and omniscience into this anonymous soul. Now, let us, with artistic ambition, breathe into the dust and see what we find.

John is a striking man. Everyday when he walks by one of several quite beautiful secretaries at his law firm, he's greeted with blushing smiles from girls who, without realizing it, always push their hair behind one of their ears. Mark it down, every time! It's like clockwork. A sure sign that John has an admirer or two. John just smiles and keeps walking. It's not as if he could whisk them away and fuck their brains out in a storeroom closet. Oh no, not at the risk of losing his job. It's far too lucrative to take those kinds of risks. Besides, with one exception, the secretaries are all in their mid-twenties. John, as they say, "wouldn't kick them out of bed," but they lack the youthfulness that drives him wild, that magical power which could actually cause him to have sex in a conference room at the risk of losing his job. There are other law firms. It's all a matter of weighing the benefits against the perceived risks. These ladies, well, just aren't worth the risk. Not to John. His attentions are elsewhere.

After passing by the ogling eyes of Milana, Lindsi, and Beth (the secretaries), he always stops just before the elevator and peers into the mirror on the opposite wall. He thinks he's being discreet, but Walter, the firm's head of security, notices it every time. "What a self-absorbed prick," Walter says through his teeth. Walter is jealous, of course. John has everything. Except a wife. Walter has a wife. But, like most long-married men, longs for a certain freedom outside of his grasp. He loves his wife, he really truly loves her. But we've all seen the way young women dress these days. At least Walter sure has. And John could have just about any young woman in California. Keep in mind, Walter's concept of a "young woman" differs drastically from John's. Walter doesn't know that though. He just goes on what he sees. That's why every time he sees John checking himself in the mirror he presumes John to be thinking, "Johnny baby, looking good!" Of course a book and its cover are seldom mutually representative. When John looks in the mirror, he's not looking at himself. Technically, yes, of course he is. But he's not looking to see how attractive or handsome he is. Despite John's head-turning good looks, he rarely puts stock in what other people think of him. No, John looks at himself for a different reason, one that both frightens and puzzles him.

Walter, like almost everyone at the firm, hasn't quite pegged down John's personality. There are two camps on the matter. Some think as does Walter that John is an arrogant prick who flaunts his money, good looks, and his sleek black BMW M6, no doubt fucking a different gal every night. Others think he's just a genuinely nice though supremely-confident guy. Take Beth, for example. She thinks he's too nice. She's the exception I mentioned. Only 19 years old. John doesn't pay that much attention to her though. She's very forceful and outspoken. Some might call her an extreme Feminist, though that term can mean any number of things, really. She's attractive, young, and has a beautiful body, but John's turned off by her attitude.

One day Beth was running late for work. When John opened the door and stood back to let her go first, as most gentlemen would, she scoffed at him and said, "Oh God, you're not one of those, are you?!!!" He never was quite sure what she meant. However, he knew he wanted to avoid having conversations with her in the future. John forms opinions fairly quickly, but he's not the type to flip-out and fire a 19-year-old for, well, acting her age -- and it's not even clear he could fire her. The administration at his firm recently underwent major housecleaning. Some partners from another firm joined with John and his original partner, Weston. Suffice it to say, both sides of the merger haven't quite figured out how to work as a team yet. Since the merger, there has been a lot of disagreement on selecting cases, on hiring secretaries and interns, and even on who should have which parking space. Childish, I know. But that's what happens when you throw into the same room a bunch of inflated egos with thick pockets and 10-20 years of arguing cases for a living. John takes it all in stride. There are more important things in life.

No, Walter has John all wrong. John doesn't look proudly into the mirror every morning gloating over his successes. He looks at himself like an unconfident teenager before school, hoping not to find any pimples. It's only an analogy, of course. John is beautiful with flawless skin. If he never made it through law school, he could have been a model. At 6'1", 180 lbs of pure muscle, with fairly tanned skin and short dark brown hair, he's any woman's dream; dark blue eyes, and barely visible facial hair a la George Clooney. His clothes, as you might guess, cost a fortune. He doesn't shop for himself though. A very good friend of his, Evelyn, is the fashion-editor at one of New York's premier men's magazines. Every few months he flies to see her, and they spend a day shopping and just generally enjoying each other's company. She pulls any number of slacks, shoes, and shirts from the priciest stores and he proffers the no-limit credit card. In return for her continued service, he takes care of legal problems for her, like issues arising from her recent nasty divorce. Her ex-husband is a complete asshole. But, with John's help, Evelyn received nearly 60 percent of her ex-husband's estate. Yes, John looks after his friends. And they look after him. So, if John has the looks, the clothes, the money and everything it can buy, why would John look so unconfidently at himself for those 2 or 3 seconds nearly every morning before pushing the elevator button? Answer: he's thinking about his regular 4:00 coffee break later in the afternoon. He's not looking at his appearance, not checking for razor cuts, split ends, or remnants of a cherry breakfast croissant he had before coming into work (more about John's taste for cherries later). He only looks into his eyes. He's searching for something. He knows it's there, but, to his reoccurring good fortune, he never seems to find it.