An Unexpected Reaction

"Please, girls, I'm begging here. This is his place of business as well as mine, and he has the right to conduct it as he sees fit. If you push it, he'll have grounds for a restraining order, and that would be bad. He's so upset he told me he's going to sell his half of the business, if I don't buy it he'll go to someone else."

"We can't afford that, Cindy. Not now. We've just gotten to the edge of being really successful. He's the idea man, the brains behind the business. I just sell whatever he comes up with. It would ruin us, Cindy. Think about the kids."

I heard more mumbling, then silence. He called.

"They've left. You can come out of the office now."

"I don't think so. As long as I'm in here I'm in an asshole free zone. Go back to work, try to figure out what you're going to do. And ask Aida to come in, please."

He was starting to beg again when I hung up.

...

"It been an interesting few days. Care to hear about it?" she said, as she sat.

Curiosity got the better of me, so I nodded.

"I was there, you had forgotten, hadn't you? I nearly flipped when I saw you. Mack[her husband]

and I were trying to intercept you but you were too quick."

"Mack said he saw murder on your face. I know you managed to scare the shit out of quite a few people. After you gave your little speech and left it was bedlam for awhile. Becky did try to follow you, but Cindy and the guy held her back. I was close by then, and I heard Cindy tell her to give you a little time to cool down first. She was crying, saying if she didn't get to you then she'd never get another chance. But by the time she broke loose you were gone."

"Quite a few of the patrons left after the scene. I have a feeling donations that night were a little shy of expectations."

She stopped, looking at me. "Do you know his name?"

"Yes. And his age, his residence, what kind of car he drives, his past, and everything else a really good PI could come up with."

She shuddered a little.

"You're not going to do anything cruel, are you?"

"Yes," I said, making her blanch, "I'm gonna ignore him. Every time he walks around a blind corner or hears a loud noise behind him he'll expect it's me. He'll be a nervous wreck for awhile. Eventually he'll figure out I have absolutely no interest in him, and that will be the biggest insult I could give him."

"What about your wife? They had to almost carry her out of the place. I think she was beginning to realize how bad it was going to be."

"I don't have a wife," I said, stonefaced.

Then I grinned, to ease her mind.

"But if anything ever happens and you find yourself single, I'll be like a politician at a pork barrel. White boys aren't all bad."

She smiled. "I don't cross the color lines, but if anything ever happens, for you I'd make an exception."

We stood and she hugged me. It felt great. She rubbed those nice mammary glands across my chest.

I couldn't help it, I smiled. She grinned back.

"I'm gonna stop on the way home and get an average sized white dildo and call it Jace, for future fantasies."

We laughed, hugged again, and worked the rest of the afternoon.

When I came out there were two envelopes on my bike seat, one from Cindy, one from Beck. I knew Allen was watching as I dropped them on the ground and left. I hadn't got a block when I saw a familiar SUV behind me. I laughed into my helmet. Let the chase begin.

I was on my Yamaha Road Star, 102 inches of v twin power. My one nod to success. It was two years old, a repo I'd gotten a really good deal on. Beck loved it, and we spent many an afternoon just tooling around, exploring.

Keeping them close, I suddenly made a right turn on red. They were two cars behind and stuck. I whipped into a parking lot three blocks down, waited until I saw them zip by, and went back the way I'd come. They were probably still driving around in circles when I pulled into my garage.

I carried the burner phone I'd gotten with me, and left my regular phone locked in my desk drawer. I still used it for business, I'd screen and delete everything but my customers and lawyer.

Beck finally sent a registered letter, which I signed for, then sent back to her unopened. My lawyer did all my talking.

"She's a firecracker," he said, "and sure knows a lot of colorful words."

She was living in the house, and I was making half the payment, and directed Paul to tell her it would stop six months after we divorced, in which time I hoped to sell it or she could buy me out. I knew that would never happen, she simply couldn't afford it. She refused to get a lawyer. Paul shrugged.

"She isn't required to, but you can bet at the first hearing the judge will strongly suggest she get counsel. That will be the first attempt to drag it out as long as she can to get to you. She's not going to let go, I saw it in her eyes. I'm all right with racking up the billable hours, but at some point you need to talk to her. Or, just say the hell with it and withdraw the petition."

He saw the look on my face and held up his hands.

"I didn't say go back to her. Just do what you're doing now, and ignore her. It may take awhile, but eventually she'll get tired and agree to the divorce. Let's give it until the actual hearing, maybe she'll realize she's pissing in the wind and be reasonable."

"You really think so?" I felt a faint ray of hope.

"Nope," he said grinning, as he walked me out.

...

She got her friends to intercede for her. Bad idea. Really, really bad idea. Word got out about my reactions and most of them understood it was a forbidden subject.

Then her mom took up the banner. I'd always liked her, and I told her if she needed anything, help in any way, I'd be insulted if she didn't call me. But if she said her daughters' name one more time, I would never speak to her again.

My mom became involved. I tried to make her see things as I did. Didn't even slow her down. I left, and didn't return for three months. She stared right back into trying to 'get me to be reasonable'. I left, and she called me two weeks later, crying, and promised to never bring her up again. I think she got it. Now she was going with the sad 'I'll suffer in silence, but you know I'm right' look. Wasn't working for her.

She did say she thought I needed to see someone.

"The anger is changing you, honey. Not for the best. You need to get your balance back, for your own well being."

...

I thought about that for a while. I tried to compartmentalize, keep it separate from the rest of my life. Never could get it to work. It was the worst when I saw Cindy. She still came occasionally by the office. She knew better to say anything, she could see in my eyes what I thought of her.

She and Allan were not doing well. They were stressed, trying to figure out a way to save the business. Allan tried to talk about it once. I actually listened, calm enough now to be curious as to what they could possibly say that would justify their betrayal.

"Please, Jace, I'm begging you here. If you pull out, we both know I'll be out of business in six months. I've worked as hard as you to make this a success. I'll lose everything. The house, the cars. I have children, remember? I need to provide then with the best quality of life possible."

Instead of calming me, it just made me angrier.

"Really? You're using the kids as a bargaining chip? Tell me something, did you even remotely consider how I might react, knowing my best friends in the whole world were helping the love of my life screw me over? You might should have considered the ramifications before you got involved. Maybe if you'd remembered the last time she did something like this and my reaction then, when we weren't married or even seriously committed, you would have spoken up. Were you thinking about the kids while you were lying to me?"

He flushed, and looked really, really angry.

"Goddamnit! It's time for you to get over yourself and think about the harm you're doing here because your feelings are hurt. She cheated on you. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have allowed Cindy and myself to get involved. I was trying to protect you. Do I need to kick your ass to get you to understand?"

Wrong thing to say.

"You wanted to protect me? Then why didn't you read Cindy the riot act, tell Beck she was making a serious mistake, threaten to tell me unless she stopped? I think you weren't worried about me at all, but were more worried about the business. This cash cow has mooed her last, Allan."

"You're good at what you do. You'll find a job pretty easily, especially now that the economy is rebounding. You may not have the quality of life you have know, but you'll survive. Cindy could actually get a job for awhile, to help. It might give her the shot of reality she needs."

"And as far as kicking my ass, you don't have any idea how part of me wants you to really try. My mom says I need to release some of my rage. Pounding the dog shit out of you might go a long way towards doing that. Now, if you're done, get the fuck out of my office. Go work on your resume or something."

Like I said, Allan is six four. I just barely made it to six. And he outweighed me by sixty pounds. But the thing he didn't have was rage. He grabbed me, spun me around, opening his mouth to say more. I didn't give him a chance, swinging instantly.

I gave it everything I had, putting all the pain and rage I had into one punch. It landed right between the eyes. He went down like an imploded building. I stood over him, rubbing my knuckles.

"I believe we're done here. Let yourself out, and don't ever come back into this office unless I ask you too."

The door had been open, and Ben, our new salesman, was standing there with an open mouth.

"I think I'll work from home the rest of the day. Help him up, will you?"

It was two days before I went back. He'd been treated for a concussion. And he looked like a raccoon with two black eyes. From then on, we communicated by email.

...

The punch scared me. Mom was right, I did need to see someone.

Kathy Grimes was one of the best in her field, according to what information I could gather. It was two weeks before she could see me.

My age, roughly. Pretty, ultimately professional, with a warm manner and disarming style. Judging by the pictures on the wall, she was happily married with two preteen children.

"Nice looking kids," I said, looking at the pictures. She smiled.

"Thanks. Do you have any?"

"No," I sighed, "don't think it'll ever happen for me."

"Oh, in this business, I've learned to never say never. You're fairly young, there's plenty of time. Sit. Chair of table?"

Her office looked like a living room. In one corner was a table, plain wood, like you'd see in millions of kitchens in the country. The seats all had cushions for comfort.

"Table."

"Good choice," she smiled, "I find it's more relaxing in the long run."

She put a pitcher of water, a coffee carafe, and a plate of cookies on the table before sitting down.

"Homemade. Oatmeal raisin. From a secret family recipe that you can only get from the top of the oatmeal box. Water or coffee?"

After she poured the water, she got down to business.

" First off, tell me exactly why you wanted to see me and what you hope to accomplish by the end of these sessions?"

I liked it. Direct and to the point.

"I'm having a stressful time in my life right now. It's giving me anger management issues. I'd like you to help me focus, to get over the anger.

I'm tired of the way I am now, even I don't like me much."

"Well, that's pretty simple. Now, the big questions. What made you so angry? Can it be rectified, do you want to rectify it, or move on?"

For the next ninety minutes I talked about my history, before and during the courtship, marriage, and beyond. How much I had loved her. How deeply she had hurt me.

She listened, made notes, interjected with a question now and then. By the time I was done the session was over.

"Well, you've given me a lot to digest. I'll be reviewing the tapes before the next session. Same time next week, all right? And if you feel the rage build up beyond reason, call me. I'll try and work you in. Would you like me to prescribe something to calm you?"

"Thanks but no. See you next week."

I had been going for a month, and was actually feeling better, when she asked me if she could make some observations.

"You're a nice man, Jace, in a not so nice situation. You've been terribly hurt, the level of betrayal you feel is enormous. That's why you react so strongly when your wife is mentioned."

"I see this sort of thing all the time, and I've never seen a deeper sense of betrayal. It's eating you up, and you don't know why."

"My opinion, you still love your wife."

She held up her hand before I could speak.

"That doesn't mean you want to go back to her. The fact that all your friends seemed to support or turn a blind eye only compounds the situation. And all them telling you to get over it, forgive her already, didn't help any. It keeps the pain front and center."

"In the end, you have to ask yourself if you'll be happier with her or without her."

I thought about it for a few minutes.

"It sucks either way. She's betrayed me twice now. If I take her back, despite any promises she makes me, she'll have it in her head if she fucks up again I'll just forgive her again. I'm not willing to take that chance. I couldn't go through it again."

I paused, and she waited.

"So, I guess we're over. I still love her, but love isn't the issue, here. Trust is. I can't ever see a way to trust her again. And that says it all."

"And all our so called friends? I can understand a little reticence, it would be a terribly awkward conversation. But the ones who helped her? The ones who gave her alibis and kept her secret? They're dead to me."

"Looking back, I realize they were mostly her friends anyway. I think you know by now I've always been pretty much a loner. I like people, but I don't have the need to surround myself with them all the time. There's a song lyric,'being alone doesn't mean I'm lonely', that's me."

She was nodding.

"That's consistent with my understanding. My opinion, if you want it, is to go ahead with the divorce. But, and I can't stress the importance of this, you need to talk to her. As long as you don't she's going to hold hope that she can get you back. Tell her why that will never happen. If you can make her understand, she may stop fighting the divorce. You've told me how you fought counseling, but you seem to the point now of being calm enough to consider it, especially if it gets you the results you want quicker. I can set up a few joint sessions with her if you like, act as referee. Your choice entirely, but that's my expert opinion."

I thought about it for awhile. I was tired. It needed to be over. Maybe if I went to counseling with her instead of fighting it she would finally understand and let us move on.

"Think she'll come?"

She nodded.

"I'm almost positive. She'll see it as a chance to finally state her case, and get you back. I'm warning you now, though, it could be pretty painful."

I told her to set it up.

"I've been in pain since I found out. I'm pretty sure a little more won't kill me."

...

The sad part was I knew she still really loved me. I knew, because I listened into her phone conversations for the next few weeks before I allowed Johnny to remove the taps.

The first days after we split were mostly her calling me. The messages I didn't listen to on my phone I got to hear anyway.

Most were tearful entreaties for me to talk to her, to let her explain. After about the first fifty it was down to one sentence.

"Please talk to me Jace, please."

The conversations with her friends were pretty interesting, especially Cindy.

"God, we really fucked up, didn't we?"

"Yes we did. I don't know what I was thinking, Cindy. Why did I do it?"

She actually giggled.

"You did it because it was fun. You're a classic cake eater, honey, thinking you could have them both and he'd never find out. I never thought he'd find out either. I'm sorry Allan found out, but I knew he'd never tell. He needed Jace too badly."

"Hell, we all need him. You know he's trying to get out of the partnership, don't you? Says if we'd do it in our private life, wonder what he was up to in the business? We've got to get to him, get him back on board. We've got to fix this, Beck. The question is how. I see a long period of ass kissing in our future."

Becky was sobbing quietly.

"I don't think there's enough ass kissing in the world to fix this one, Cin. He's really pissed. He left me a folder, pictures, interviews, you'd be amazed how eager some were to throw me under the bus. I can't believe how arrogant we were."

Some her friends were no better. Most talked to her about strategies to get me in the same room with her right up to and including kidnapping. Most promised to talk to me.

Their reports afterwards were entertaining, one woman chewed her out pretty bad.

"I'm done. He almost took our heads off, and the sad thing is we deserved it. He asked my husband if I was all right with you having an affair and actually helping you cover it and give alibis, what was I doing when he wasn't around? I'm still kissing ass, Jack is really pissed. I'm pretty sure you're toast, Beck. I know we are. I wouldn't ask any more of us to talk to him. Sorry, hon."

The asshole actually called her three times. She hung up on him the first time, but the next two, right before I turned the taps off, were enlightening.

"Don't hang up, Becky. We're in serious trouble here. We need to talk. Our jobs are in the balance."

"You think I give a damn about the job, Greg? The worst thing I ever did in my life was go to work for you."

I could hear the irritation in his voice.

"Come off the high horse, girl. You practically begged for this job. And it might have been my idea to fool around, but you didn't hesitate once the subject came up."

"Speaking of that, wanna get together? He's not coming back, and you know it. The look in his eyes that night scared the hell out of me. We could console each other, he'd never know."

She exploded.

"That's what we thought the first time, remember? How'd that work out? And if he's that pissed now, what do you think he'd do if he found out? No means no, Greg, never again."

"Calm down. It was just a thought. I have to go in front of the board of directors next week. Word of our little escapade has gotten back to them. You'll probably get a call too. We need to decide how to spin this."

She actually laughed.

"Spin this? If they asked, I'm gonna tell them the truth. We had an affair. We both share the blame. I will tell them that it's over, and I'll never do it again if they let me stay. I doubt they will."

He tried one more time.

"They'll fire me Becky, whether they do you or not. This type of work is all I've ever done. If I get let go and word gets out why, I'll probably never work in this business again."

She softened a bit.

"I'm not throwing you under the bus here. It was both our fault. But I have to tell the truth. If I don't and Jace finds out, I really will be toast. I'm actually fond of you, Greg, but you're not worth my marriage."

Well, she seemed sincere. I called their direct boss and arranged a meeting. He showed, with his lawyer, scared to death I was going to sue them. That kind of publicity in this economy would seriously compromise their fundraising abilities.

And I knew they had a very strict moral code, an absolute necessity for their company. They could lose contracts, and it would be very hard to attract new charities. Up until now they'd had a really good record.

I played the tap for them.

"Before you talk, I need to tell you this tape was legally obtained. If push comes to shove, I'll make it public record in my divorce."