Office in the Round

The center of town was Crowley Circle.  The buildings around it were set more like a rectangle. But the road around the rectangle was definitely a circle, a roundabout leading to different parking areas.  It was designed in the early twentieth century by Albert Crowley, after too many trips to Europe.

Much of Crowley's small professional community was set around this circle.  Andy Caldwell's State Farm Bureau was here.  Next to it was Cooper and Strickland, Attorneys at Law.  Next to that was Graves & Robinson, CPA PC. Next to that was the chiropractor, Doc Walter Stratton.  On the corner was the Honey Dew, the local diner.  Across the street were City Hall, and the Court House, sitting in the oldest building in Crowley, predating even the circle.  At four stories it was the tallest building in Crowley, covered in red brick that had been put in place over 125 years ago, oversized windows that had ghostly apparitions according to Cokie Goodkind and his band of paranormal investigators. Next to City Hall were the City Police and the County Sheriff's office, who share facilities.  Some argued for a combined department, but the political turf wars had prevented that so far.

Rondy Strickland parked his metallic blue Ford F-150 and clambered out.  Why an in town dweller with a white collar profession needed such a large gas-guzzling pick-em-up truck was unclear, but it was not an uncommon phenomenon in Crowley. Tall, muscular and athletic, Rondy had a face and sincere smile that made women swoon.  Probably too many women.  Rondy was divorced, and played a wide field.

Rondy saw Gariton Hollander get out of his Prius and head towards the CPA firm he worked for.  Gariton was small, no more the five foot eight, and had kinda weird hobbies, like theatre and reading.  "Hey, Gariton!  'Nother day, 'nother dollar, eh?"  Gariton nodded and moved on to his office at Graves and Robinson.  Rondy shrugged and continued to the door of Cooper and Strickland.

"Morning, sunshine!"  chippered Rondy, as he entered and saw Ramona Adams sitting at her desk up front.  Ramona was the firm's legal assistant, secretary and receptionist.  She was studying at OTC (Okefenokee Technical College) in Waycross to be a paralegal.  She didn't realize that Thomas Cooper, the lead lawyer and true firm head, had no intention of paying her more even if she passed.  Thomas Cooper had a fixed idea how much women in the office should make and he was never going to go past that line.  The fact that she was African American probably didn't help, but Mr. Cooper's true problem was that she was a woman.

Crowley's African American population was fairly small, no more than about 15% of city residents were black, and there were only a handful out in the county.  Most of those who achieved academically did not stay, as the numbers of jobs for educated African Americans were few and far between, as most small businesses simply didn't hire them.  And if they did, it was only for the more menial jobs.  The job Ramona had at Cooper & Strickland was a minor exception.  The work load was a challenge, and she did get to do some interesting stuff on occasion, but the pay and power was only going to rise so far.  Thomas Cooper did respect her and treated her well for the most part, but his prejudice was really more towards his conception of what women's role in the work place was.

Ramona's husband, Jackie Adams, had one of the best jobs held by an African American in Crowley.  He was vice-principal at the Reagan Middle School, in charge of discipline and facility maintenance.  There was hardly a person in Dixon County who thought that that Jackie was not excellent at his job.

"Morning, Mr. Strickland," answered Ramona.  Rondy had wanted her to use his first name in referring to him, but Ramona was not going to go down that path. Rondy was king of the flirts and if you gave him an inch, he would take a mile.  She tried to keep her opinion of herself grounded, but she knew she was pretty good looking, and Rondy always looked at her with wolfish eyes.  Besides, Mr. Cooper had never indicated any desire for her to call him anything but Mr. Cooper, and she felt no reason to address the lawyers differently.

Thomas Cooper came out of his office.  He was a distinguished looking gentleman, thick white hair, and a medium build, dressed in a sharp, cool blue suit; he had expressive, kind eyes that had melted a hundred juries.  Mr. Cooper mostly took cases that defended Crowley's elite, but once in awhile he would take on cases helping the disadvantaged, and it was then he would truly shine. 

"Rondy, I got Sheriff Steel coming in 'bout an hour from now.  He'll have Edna and Dabs Denison with him, and I'll want you to sit in on it," said Thomas.

"What's going on, Thomas?  Isn't Dabs that kind of loopy vet?  Did he do something crazy?" asked Rondy, who had no real interest in anything except the town elite, or the town's beautiful women.

"I don't know, Rondy.  I have not talked to them yet.  Alan Steel wants me to talk to them, I'm going to do it.  I don't need to know much more.  You sit in on it with me, and we'll see where we can help." Thomas turned to Ramona.  "If they bring their boys in with them, I want you to help them get entertained in the second conference room.  Maybe we still got those crayola books."

Ramona nodded, but she really wanted to be in on that meeting.  It was very intriguing that Sheriff Steel would be bringing somebody in.  It could be something beyond the usual divorce or property dispute.  Ramona wanted not just to be paralegal, but a full fledged lawyer.  It would be a long and hard journey, but she had the support of the person she cared most about, her husband Jackie.

The phone rang and it was Betty Cooper, calling to speak with Rondy.  They had been "dating" for a couple of months now, and would frequently call or come up to see Rondy.  Betty was Thomas Cooper's daughter, a sweet girl, short and blonde and sometimes giggly.  Thomas wasn't very excited about his daughter dating Rondy, but he wasn't the type to tell his twenty-three year old daughter what to do or not to do.  In his experience, it was always better when they could figure out things for themselves.

"Excuse me, I'll take this in my office," said Rondy.  I'll bet you will, thought Ramona. 

"Buzz me the minute they come in, Ramona," said Thomas, retreating back to his office.

A few minutes later the door opened again.  It was Christie Delco Hollander, the drop dead gorgeous daughter of Daddy Delco, furniture store tycoon.  She was also inexplicably married to Gariton Hollander.  Ramona thinks they met at school up north somewhere.  Christie had a perfect face, long auburn hair, Nordic blue eyes, and a dancer's body. 

"Hello, Ramona!" said a high spirited Christie.  "I come by to town to drop off Gariton some of my sweet cake and I thought, well, Rondy's right here.  Why not chat him up for a minute!  I want to get his help in the big Christmas Oyster Roast, raise some money for the Crowley Rec Center."

Ramona looked down at the phone, and saw that Rondy was still on the line with Betty.  She looked up at Christie and saw her distractedly biting her lip, looking unexpectedly anxious.  It only took a millisecond for Ramona to make up her mind.  "Sure, Mrs. Hollander, go right on back. Rondy is free as a bird, and I'm sure he'd just love to..." Ramona paused here ever so slightly.  "...chat things up with you.'

"Thank you kindly, Miss Ramona!' Christie went to open Rondy's door. "You just ever have the nicest day!"

The door closed.  Seconds later, the phone call with Betty was dumped.

Ramona smirked.  It looked like another dog day for Rondy.  Woof.