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Olivia and Victor Ellison

By: Matt Moreau



I looked at the wall clock. She still wasn't home, and it was ten till midnight. I'd gotten home an hour earlier after having been abandoned by her at her company's, Homestead Interior Design and Furnishings, party. She's an agent for them: she deals with department stores buying such. At any rate, she'd simply just up and left with some guy while I was in the bathroom. The she is my wife, Olivia Ellison, and her current level of disrespect is highly likely to put an end to that little piece of legal reality. Pissed didn't even begin to describe my level of ire.

I heard the garage door opener engage. Finally! The usual one minute lag time, and then, again as usual, the back screen door slamming. She clearly didn't care if I were asleep or not. That pissed me off even more.

"Oh! You're still up," she said, stopping in her tracks when she spotted me sitting at the kitchen table.

"Yeah, well if I had been sleeping, your entrance would have put an end to that," I said.

"Yes, I did kinda slam the door didn't I?" she said. 

"Yes, yes you did—again," I said.

"Didn't mean to. Sorry." 

"Got anything else to say to me?" I said.

"Like?" she said. My look sobered her. "Oh, you mean about my being so late?" she said. I just stared at her. She knew what I meant. I guess she was hoping I was too tired to deal with a confrontation at this particular hour of night; I wasn't.

"Calvin, Calvin Grayson, He's an old friend. He was invited to the party by one of the mucky-mucks who knew him from somewhere. He asked me if I wanted to see his new place. We, you and I, have been thinking about looking for a new place. I thought it would be useful to check his out. It was just around the corner from where we were. We didn't do what you may be thinking, Victor. But, I guess, time did kinda get away from us. I was shocked when I realized that it was after 11:00PM. I hurried home as soon as I could after that," she said.

"He asked you to see his new place? Not his etchings?" she took on a disgusted look. "And, how did you get home? It sure as hell wasn't with me?" I said.

"Calvin gave me a ride. He's sorry too for causing me to be so late," she said. I nodded.

"Drop your panties," I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"Drop your panties. If he fucked you, I'll be able to tell, and if he did I'll be seeing a lawyer in the A.M. If he didn't we may still have marriage—I say may—so drop your panties," I said. "Do it now."

"Now wait just a minute, buster. You are way over the top here," she said. "We didn't do anything. I am not dropping my panties." I nodded.

"Okay, I'll be sleeping in the master bedroom tonight, so I can get an early start packing. I mean all of my stuff is in there. You sleep in the guest room just for tonight. You can move back in tomorrow when I'm gone. Oh, and I promise to not disturb you in the morning. It's Saturday. You can sleep in," I said. "I promise not to slam the door." She gave me an I'm-disgusted look.

"What are you talking about?" she said.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about," I said. "I'm leaving you and divorcing you. It ain't rocket science. He fucked you, you cheated on me, and you're standing there actually daring to try and get me to forget about it. Well, that ain't happening. I will not be your willing cuckold."

"Look, Victor, you are going way overboard here. He did not fuck me. I swear it," she said.

"So drop your pants," I said. 

"Victor, please!" she said. I just stared at her. She sighed and began pushing her pants floorward.

"Spread 'em," I said. She did. She had not been fucked. 

"We'll talk in the morning," I said. She strode off in a huff. Well, that was just too damn bad.

******

The coffee smelled good. Well, the coffee was always good, but the day figured not to be. She was sitting at the table stirring her morning candied coffee.

I got a cup of the black elixir—I'm tough, I drink it straight—and sat down opposite her. "Okay, I guess it's time to talk," she said. 

"Yeah, it is," I said. "What did you think you were doing hanging me out to dry at 'your' company party, Olivia? A party where I knew virtually nobody and had absolutely nothing in common with any of them? Do I mean so little to you that you can do that to me without a second thought?

"Oh, and before you answer, There is no way I believe that you went to his new place to check it out. Maybe the bed or the couch, but the house per se—not a chance!" I said.

She deflated. "Okay. First off, you're my husband, but you are not my only love interest," she said. "No, that's not quite right. You are my only love interest, but not my only lust interest. She'd stunned me. I think my mouth was twitching, kinda like a goldfish's. She smirked.

"What the hell!" I said.

"In the last hour or so this morning, I made the decision to tell you the complete and utterly unadorned truth. Some of it may piss you off pretty good, maybe even hurt you some—your ego. But, that said, some may actually make you feel better," she said.

"Really!" I said. "Sounds like a lot more bad than good." She shrugged. 

"Perhaps," she said. "Calvin is an old friend, not just somebody who happened to get invited to the party."

"Like I said, I'll be packing. You have a nice life, yuh hear," I said. She sighed, ignored me, and continued her spiel. For the life of me, I continued to sit and listen to her tripe.

"His company, Hilliard Software Inc, is based downtown. We have lunch occasionally; I invited him; he's a fun guy. He has fucked me in the past, but that was before I met you. That said, he didn't fuck me last night, as you discovered. Sometime in the future I may let him do me again; he's part of the lust interest that I alluded to a minute ago. But again, we didn't do it last night. And, it may never happen. 

"And why would you wait, dear soon to be ex-wife," I sneered. She smirked again: her level of confidence was truly remarkable. "I mean if you are so overcome with lust for him. And maybe others?" Another smirk.

"Why? Well, because Calvin is bi, and a bit more bi than hetero, if you get my drift. So, like I say, it may never happen, him doing me. Anyway, he is very well equipped and sensitive to a partner's needs. Frankly, Victor, you could learn a thing or two from him," she said. "And, I am not your soon to be ex-wife. I love only you, and the idea of a divorce is not even to be entertained."

I ignored her opinion as to the likelihood of a divorce. 

"You sure know how to hurt a guy," I said; "Eleven years we've been man and wife, and all of this time not one word from you about my—what—inadequacies. Been cheating on me right along have you Liv?" 

"No. In truth there were a couple of times, but right along as you put it? No," she said. I could feel my face darken, cloud over.

"Like I said, I'll be sleeping the master tonight. You can have it back tomorrow," I said.

"Why? You never sinned?" she said. "You and Carol Radcliff, for example?" She had me there. She'd caught me with Carol's underpants actually in my hands during a party while we were engaged. Carol and I had never done it, hadn't gotten that far, but we would have. At any rate, Livy had caught us; so she and I had broken up; later made up, and finally put it behind us.

"Okay, point for you, but that was, in point of fact, before we were married; and no, I have not sinned since," I said. She knew I'd had chances. And truth told I'd come close a few times, but, I had never acted on any of them since we'd said our I-dos. "Who did you do it with? I mean those couple of times," I said.

"One night stands in bars. You were out of town both times. I don't remember the names or the bars. It was just sex. A roll in the hay, and goodbye," she said. The last time was three years ago and the time before that five years ago."

"Hmm, and I'm supposed to believe that?" I said.

"Yes," she said.

"You still haven't answered my question," I said.

"About last night?" she said.

"Yes," I said.

"Don't know really. It was spur of the moment. Figured we'd be back in an hour tops. But, like I said before, time just got away from us," she said.

"You know what frosts me the most. Not that you left with him. Not that you cheated on me those two times. Those are bad enough. But what really frosts me, is that last night you didn't give a damn about me at all. I'm beginning to believe that you never really have," I said. 

"Victor, nothing could be farther from the truth. Yes, I was inconsiderate. Yes, I did kinda abandon you last night, and I'm sorry. Okay?" she said. I nodded slowly wondering just where we were at now. Did I feel any better than I had before we talked? The answer to that was an unequivocal no.

"You say you care about me? But I'm not sure I can believe you. I have to get away from you, at least for the time being. Try to figure things out. I'll give you a call in a few days and we can talk if you want to. If not it'll be splitsville for the both of us. 

"I mean all of the above being whatever it is, and you still have the cajones to say that sometime in the future you may let this Calvin asshole fuck you. Do that, and we're done no matter what else happens. I mean you actually daring to say something like that to me is a slap in the face that may have us headed for divorce court anyway. But, like I say, I aim to do some thinking. You might wanna be putting your thinking cap on too; I mean if you really do care about us staying together. Your arrogance, Livy, is what's way over the top here, not my checking out your panties."

"Look, Victor...," But, I was already up and headed for the stairs.

******

The Starlight was not fancy: a bed, a couple of chairs, a bathroom and a closet; but for the moment it got me away from her. And, it had the added benefit of being close to work. I'm an accountant for Horowitz and Gamble Inc. I handle high end clients with a penchant for wanting their incomes sheltered even if it has to be offshore. Income $250K, perks very good. Life'd been good to me, that except for a too pretty wife, who really didn't care very much how she did me. And these, her latest exploits in that regard, were merely the proverbial straw-too-much. 

Now, things were going to change and change fast, or it would be an end to us. And oh, about the high cost of divorce? It wouldn't be high for me. I did know how to dodge that bullet for damn sure; hell, it's what I did for a living. And my wife, Olivia Ellison? She damn well knew it. But, this last said, I guess she figured her undeniably sensational body, looks, and bedroom skills made her Teflon when it came to how men dared to behave toward her.

******

She looked over at her husband of fourteen years and didn't bat an eyelash. "So did you get any new business for your trouble last night," said Anita Grayson, age forty-six, still pretty, and clearly a female to be reckoned with; she was alluding to the party he'd gone to the previous night ostensibly to garner new business for his gyms and health clubs.

"Some leads is all. Mainly an opportunity to meet potentials," he said. "Improved health and fitness is something that most people don't think about until their bodies have already gone to pot and the road back is discouragingly steep." She nodded.

Hear the lieutenant governor was there. Did you get a chance to talk to him?" she said.

"Yes, he was there. Just got introduced is all, no lengthy conversation. Seemed like everybody wanted a piece of him," he said. She noticed a slight, but definite, hesitation when she'd asked her last question. Something was going on. Calvin Grayson was good at some things, but not worth a damn at playing poker. The question then became, why would her husband be skittish, for that what he was, about answering a question relating to a high profile pol? She'd be keeping an eye on him, her husband. She suspected that he was playing with boys; and if he was, was the lieutenant governor one of his playmates? The man was married to a truly beautiful ex-model. Was she just arm candy, a political expediency? Anita Grayson doubted it; but, stranger things had happened.

He put down his drink and came to her. "Let's get physical," he said. She smiled.

"You want to put that great big thingy of yours inside of me?" she said, now giggling.

"Guilty," he said. He covered her left breast with his hand and massaged it through the material of her dress and paper-thin bra. She was a hot piece was his wife. She was every bit as good as Olivia Ellison, his second favorite piece. The thought made him smile. He'd have to be visiting Olivia soon; she deserved a dose of his nine inch dick, and she was after all his to command. Life had been good to Calvin Grayson. All he had to do to keep it that way was to be super-discreet. Yes, discreet was the word. 

He let his hand trail down until he was squeezing the covered flesh of her vulva.

"God you are for sure one hot momma," he said.

"Well, if so, what are you waiting for, big boy, take me. Do me," she said. He did.

******

Again, Olivia is a part time interior decorator for Homestead Interior Design and Furnishings; she's sort of self-employed; she works out of our house as a decorator and sales agent for them. She gets most of her business by word of mouth from past customers though she does also get leads from the home company. That said, her business was more of a hobby than anything else, she makes a tenth of what I do. This last no doubt her reason for assuring me of her love and devotion and my importance to her sentient existence. 

I was no fool. I hadn't seen any evidence of it before, but I had to believe that she'd been cheating on me more than she'd admitted to; she was just real good at keeping it hidden. But, as for that, the Preston Scott Agency would soon have the evidence—any evidence—of her perfidy both past and present if there indeed was any, that quite apart from her already alluded to admissions; and if so, if there were any evidence, she was dead meat.

******

I was sitting at my desk having just hung up the phone when my secretary buzzed me.

"Yes, Denise," I said.

"Mister Ellison, a Mr. Scott is here to see you," said Denise. "Said he had an appointment?" Denise was under strict orders to never let anyone gain access to me without an appointment; hence, her clear reluctance to recognize the importance of Mr. Preston Scott, my newly hired PI, and my very old friend from college days. 

Preston and I had been tighter than a witch's cunt in years gone by. I employed his services on rare occasions when a client needed something special, usually to defend himself or herself from spousal attacks during a divorce. At any rate we had a long history.

It'd been a month since I'd called him; that, the same length of time since I'd been home. Odd thing about that last, she, Olivia, had not tried to contact me at all during that span of time. It was like she either didn't give a damn or was giving me time to get over my mad before doing so. Well, hell, I hadn't tried to contact her either.

"Send him in, Denise, I forgot to tell you about him. I was expecting him," I said.

I met him at the door to my office as Denise flagged him in. He was smiling.

"I take it from your smile that you have news," I said.

"Oh indeed I do," said Preston Scott. I smiled him to go on.

"Yes, well, let me begin with the bottom line, or lines if you prefer. Your wife is a prostitute. Mister Grayson is her pimp, and she—they—have been at it for some five years. I should add, he isn't fucking her, at least not recently as far as I can tell. And believe it or not he appears to be happily married. 

"Is he bi do you know?" I said.

"Yes. And I haven't been able to find out for certain, but I don't think the wife, Anita Grayson's her name, knows about his interest in boys or the business he and your wife are involved in. The Graysons own three beauty salons and four gyms. He runs the gyms and his wife runs the salons. They've got some bucks.

"You know, Victor, most of the time, when I collect the goods on this or that spouse, I feel bad about it. Hate to see marriages go south. But, in this case your wife and her partner in crime are so far beyond the pale that I have to warn you to get your ducks in a row and get the hell outta Dodge muy prontero!," he said.

"Prostitute? Pimp? Five years' worth?" I said.

"Yes. I have 'em on tape and video both. I also have the statements on tape of some of her liaisons. The cops are going to have field day if you decide to out them. My guys talked to at least a dozen of her current and former clients who are willing to testify if we keep their wives, bosses, and significant others the hell outta the loop," he said. "I could've gotten more, but it would be more than superfluous to have bothered," he said.

"But, how...?" I said.

"You're kidding, right? I can find out anything, Victor; the world's an open book, really. Bartenders, beauty salon workers, braggarts at the gyms: it was a piece of cake. They're dead meat, Victor. How dead will be your choice," he said.

"Sweet Jesus," I said. My bud took on a look, maybe tentative.

"Preston?" I said, reacting to his look.

"A friend of yours is one of her playmates, Victor," he said.

"A friend of mine?" 

"Yeah, you do his taxes like you do mine," he said. He paused. I waited. 

"Ronald McElroy," he said.

He'd stunned me. The lieutenant governor. "Boy oh boy oh boy!" I said.

"Yeah, at least that," he said.

"Okay, ducks in a row, got it," I said. "Anything else?" 

"Only these, the evidence," he said, pushing two large manila envelopes across the desk to me. "I wouldn't look at the pictures or watch the videos; they're pretty intense. And, what they say..." 

"About me?" I said, interrupting him in mid-sentence.

"Yeah," he said. I nodded. Would I look at them? Give a listen to the audio? I wasn't sure, but maybe not. I respected Preston's opinion on things, so probably not.

We talked a little longer and then he was gone. Now, I had to get moving and get things accomplished before she realized I was on to her. I did have questions, a lot of questions. Well, one can imagine. But, they'd have to wait a bit. Ducks in a row, that was the ticket. Had to take care of that stuff muy prontero as my bud had advised me. I also had to go home and keep up appearances for the short term just in case.

******

She sat across the table from him slowly shaking her head from side to side. "No, Calvin, for the final time no!" she said.

"Look, with just a modicum of care, and minimum of effort; we could be rich and that in no time," he said.

"I don't like it," she said. "Selling my body for a few bucks to get my rocks off is one thing. But drugs, getting in bed with those gangsters? Not good," she said.

"We make what, on the side, from the sex thing?" he said. "Maybe twenty or thirty G's a year total, and we split that?"

"Yes, I guess," she said.

"We could net ten times that much rockin' with the Gonzales brothers," he said. They have the product, we have the customers, customers that owe us if we get right down to it.

"Look, Livy, the salons and the gyms actually belong to Anita. Her inheritance funded the damn things. It's scary what could happen if she ever discovers our little side business. At least with the brothers we would be able to write our own tickets. 

"And what happens when the Gonzales brothers decide they don't need us anymore. Then what?" she said.

"We just make damn sure that they do continue to need us," he said.

"If we actually did this stupid thing, what would be my role," she said. "I already have a husband who I can only hope is crying nightly in his beer, trying to get over his mad. But as to that, I'm beginning to doubt he ever will. It's been more than a month now, and he hasn't returned, called, sent along a postcard—nothing!" she said. Her friend smiled.


Olivia and Victor Ellison



"Lucky for us," said Calvin. "It's given us time to set this other in motion. But to answer your question: you'd be helping me convince our more convincable clients that we could deliver to them that which they are probably already getting from some other supplier."

"I don't know. It's not something I feel good about," she said. "Plus, I actually love my husband. He's a little too square for the real world, but he is trustworthy and loving. I need what he has to offer, Calvin; well, apart from his nothing bedroom skills. Risking this thing with the brothers...

"I mean you've got Anita and your occasional boyfriends. For the record, who's at the top of your boy list now, Calvin? Is it that Johnson kid? Somebody new? At least in prison you'd have a cast of hundreds to choose from, probably. Me? Let's just say I don't fancy the mono-sex world of the state Bastille."

"Whatever," said Calvin, snickering. "We would not be handling the product. We would just be pointing likely well-heeled clients in the right direction and stepping back and letting Marcus and Jorge Gonzales and their ilk do the rest. Like I said, we'd never be getting our hands dirty." She nodded, but it was a definitely qualified nod.

"But, Livy, on another topic; how are you thinking of handling your erstwhile hubby? I mean he has been out there amongst 'em for a while now. Frankly, that's just a little bit scary. We do not need him poking his nose into our enterprises. And what happens if and when he does come home. Will it be open arms for him or something less?" said Calvin. "You gotta be thinking about that. I mean how to keep him calm, cool, and collected."

"Don't know just yet. But, I suppose I do have to start thinking about it. I'll be nice to him, but I figure I'll wait for him to make the first move sexually. He has to learn his place. But, at any rate, that's between him and me," she said. He nodded.

"Okay, but don't turn him off, or worse, run him off. We need him to not be in a vengeful snit down the line," he said. "He does have resources, as you and I have discussed. Should he decide to employ them it could usher in a very bad day for us."

"I understand. And, no, I do not want him in the know or getting in the way either. Those things are absolutes," she said. "I'll have to figure something out, and I will."

******

I swear she jumped two feet into the air when she saw me. I was leaning against the door jamb leading from the kitchen watching her balance her checkbook at the dinette table; well, I thought that was what she was doing.

"Victor! Jesus! You scared the snot outta me," she said.

"Sorry about that," I said, not elaborating after the fact.

"I—I—I am so glad you're home. My God, I am," she said. She had risen from her seat and come to me. She tendered me a hug and a sweet, if a more or less perfunctory, kiss on the lips. "Welcome home, my man," she said.

"Really?" I said. "You really missed me?"

"Of course!" she said.

"Hmm, and yet I haven't heard word one from you since the day," I said.

"I know. I knew you were angry. And, I also knew you wouldn't be answering any calls from me in the near term. I was giving you time to come to—well—a more understanding state of mind," she said. "I should say I was just about to the point where I was going to be tracking you down. And never doubt it, I did miss you. I missed you a lot."

I nodded toward her still open check book. "Doing a little balancing?" I said. She nodded.

"Yes, I was afraid I was going to have to tap into the savings for the rent this month. The checking account—well—since you left..." My turn to nod.

"So which is it?" I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"Which was it that you were missing the most me or my income?" I said.

"Truth?" she said. "Both."

"I'll put some cash in the account tomorrow," I said. "Wouldn't want our credit suffering, now would we." I wondered what she was doing with the money from her little side business. Figured she probably didn't want to be mixing the funds; I wouldn't were I her, I thought.

"How's that boyfriend of yours," I said. She took on a disgusted expression.

"I suppose you are referring to Calvin. He's not a boyfriend, Victor; just a friend. He's fine, and yes, I have talked to him some since you cut out on me. Lunches and one dinner. Now, can we leave the subject of Calvin the heck alone and get to solving 'our' problem? Really!" she said, a little too forcefully.

I looked at my watch. "Let's go out to dinner, Liv. Unless you've got a date with Calvin," I said. She seemed to be about to go off on me, but restrained herself. I snickered. I'd struck a nerve.

"Well, okay, I did plan to go to dinner with him tonight, but I will call and cancel. You're more important. Okay?" she said.

"What! you'd cancel a date with such a good lover?" I said.

"I told you, he's gay. We were not going to be doing anything you'd disapprove of," she said.

"No, you told me he was bi. Helluva difference," I said. "But, yes, do call and cancel. Well, I mean it is my first night back surprise or not." She nodded. 

She went for her purse on the credenza and pulled out her cell. She dialed, waited, and was apparently answered. "Hi. Yeah, it's me. Gotta cancel. My hubby just got back. Yeah, me too. Thanks for understanding," she said.

"It was easy to figure out that it wasn't Calvin on the phone, more likely one of her dates. She had not used his name and the description of my return was a little too generic for it to have been someone in the know of our marital problems which I was more than certain good 'ole Calvin was."

"There, satisfied?" she said.

"A better question might be are you satisfied," I said.

She ignored me. "I have to freshen up, but we can go in maybe half an hour. Would that be all right?"

"Yes, sure," I said.

******

Anita Grayson was watching them closely...the woman had a handsome but way too young stud smiling nervously as they talked and sipped their drinks. The woman was dressed provocatively, but not sluttily. What they were about to do, or maybe had already done was clearly obvious.

She'd gotten a heads up that her husband, Calvin Grayson, was pimping for some woman, and now she knew who the woman was: Olivia Ellison. She'd met her a couple of times at dos her husband had brought her to. She, the Ellison woman was some kind of interior decorator and had done some decorating at their gyms and salons; she was talented in her field.

At first she hadn't believed it. But, an overheard conversation on the house phone, had decided her to follow up on what she'd overheard, and now she was here, and now she knew it was true. And, now she was a mixture of angry and amused. Her husband, who thought he was so smart, had proven himself dumber than even she had thought possible.

She watched as the couple left together. Clearly this was a case of going to happen not had already happened. She wondered how the woman's husband would react to the scene. Hell, she knew how he'd react unless he was some wimpy assed pussy. For the moment she'd file away the evidence, evidence gotten on her cell phone's camera; there would be a day.

******

The food was good at the Momma's Little Taste of Italy, always had been. After dinner, on a whim, I wheeled us over to the Crescendo, a seventies style discothèque on the outskirts of town. She smiled as we turned into the parking lot.

"Gonna be a fun night, I guess," said Olivia.

"That's the idea," I said. Inside, we were able to find a table near the far wall enough away from the blaring speakers to hear ourselves talk as the occasion might arise.

The DJ was on a break. He'd left on some intermission music for the patrons and a few couples were boogying around the floor.

"Are we going to be good, Victor, you and me?" she said. I stared at her and wondered, what the question she'd asked would mean, if she knew what I in fact did know about her activities. I smiled.

"Don't actually know yet. I'm still not happy about the way you've been treating me, Olivia. I guess we'll just have to wait and see." I had it in mind to offer her a last chance before the axe would fall. And, if she did seize the opportunity to redeem herself, would I care in any event. She'd been hanging horns on me for so long that it was going to be more than difficult to get by it, at least for my part.

"Victor?" she said.

"Yes?" I said.

"This place has rooms." She rolled her eyes to indicate the upstairs floors where the Hotel Crescendo's rooms were located. I smiled. I felt like a relief pitcher coming in in the late innings to save the game. Well, she had expected to spend the evening on her back hoping for some faceless dude to pleasure her—and pay her. The good news was I'd be getting her ass for free. But, even if I'd had to pay, the way she looked tonight would have made it more than worth it. I wondered how much she charged.

"Let's get one," I said. 

"Let's," she echoed. As I signed for the room, one of the other counter attendants—there were three—talked to her, appeared to know her. It was a tell: she'd used the Crescendo's accommodations before. Clearly, she was not a cheap fuck, only the best for my personal whore. Then it hit me: the attendant thought I was a john. I left my gold Cross pen on the counter. I wanted an excuse to come back. 

"Just as we got to the elevator, I feigned a sudden thought. "Jesus!" I said. "I left my Cross on the counter. Be right back," I said, leaving her standing there wondering what was going on.

Back at the counter, the attendant who'd helped me was holding my gold Cross pen. "Sorry," I said, "the pen belongs to miss—uh—"

"Rogers," said the clerk cueing me to the name she used when working her evening job.

"Yes, miss Rogers," I said. God, I was good. Maybe Preston should hire me part time. The thought brought as smile to my face.

"Why the big smile?" said Olivia. 

"The pen has sentimental value," I said.

"Sentimental value?" she said.

"Yeah, it cost me $200. That's sentimental as hell," I said. She laughed.

The room was largish. Well, it was the Crescendo: it had a reputation to uphold. 

She came to me and wrapping her arms around my neck melded her body to mine. The kiss was long and sweet and gentle and—meaningful. She was sending me a message. "I love you, Victor, everything else that's happened notwithstanding," she said. I nodded. I wondered if in the end, that I'd still be able to lower the boom on her and her pimp.

"I'd like to be able to believe that," I said, dodging the inferred question and the response she no doubt expected. 

"I'll settle for that for the moment," she said. She stepped back from me and began to disrobe. I watched the love of my life, the woman who had long been the love of my life, reveal herself. My God she was beautiful, stunning really. I would never be able to get her out of my mind completely. Naked she came to me once more and repeated the lingering kiss. Regardless of what happened down the line, I very much intended this to be the best I'd ever done for her. Of course it remained to be seen how she would see things.

Stepping back once again, she began to strip me, slowly, methodically. Finally, the both of us naked, we remained rooted to the spot for some minutes. We indulged in some more kissing while letting our hands roam over the cool flesh of our bodies. She went to her knees.

She didn't immediately touch me. She just gazed at my hardening cock. She tilted her head slightly to the right as if studying my potential as a man. A potential that she more than any other living person well knew, and, had denigrated. She smiled, and reached out for it. She held it, lightly at first, in her hand.

She began to stroke it up and down finally stopping. She leaned in and slowly, ever so slowly, let it slide into her waiting mouth. She began to lick and suck me. It was maddeningly sensate. It tickled and thrilled and caused me to shudder. It was no more than a few minutes that I began to feel myself nearing a climax. I exploded into her mouth; it was shattering. I involuntarily crumbled to me knees in front of her. We kissed. Not gently, not anymore, but savagely. 

I collapsed on the floor pulling her down on top of me. The feel of her flesh on mine was electric. I had to find a way to stop her whoring about! I had to. She had to be mine. But, in point of fact, could I stop her? 

I was hard again in what could not have been more than several long minutes. She noticed and mounted me from the top. She rode me cowgirl staring down into my, what had to be, adoring eyes the whole time. She didn't laugh but her eyes seemed to; she owned me and she knew it. And why the hell wouldn't she know it: my face had to be an open book—oh yeah. 

The smile faded from her face. I could see her almost awash in goosebumps as she climaxed. She shuddered. I was but a moment behind her. She screamed and fell forward her tits smothering my face deliciously.

"Was it good for you?" she said.

"Stupid question," I said. And it was. She giggled, kind of loudly giggled. And, it was the kind of giggle that would have announced to anyone within hearing that she knew she owned me. The upshot was that I didn't care, so long as I was the only one she owned.

The next weeks were mellow. I was certain that she'd had no dates during that period. Did she want them? Was anything changed? The answers to those two questions were that I had no idea. But then I did.

******

It was Sunday afternoon, and I'd been napping. The sun had been shining in on me for some little time before I realized it was cooking me alive. I got up and pulled the shades shut. Awake, and thirsty, I headed down stairs to get something to drink. She was on the phone.

"No we can't go out tonight. It's Sunday and I still have to baby little shit...No not for a while yet...No-no-no...No, I said, he still too skittish...Okay, so he's a wimp. He's also one hell of a breadwinner. You, on the other hand are not...Listen asshole, you come around here causing me any grief and you'll regret it, that quite apart from never getting into my panties again. Got it...I don't know, maybe in a few weeks, hard to say right now...So he's a wimp; you're an asshole...yeah-yeah-yeah, love you too." She hung up and headed for the downstairs bathroom.

Well that was revealing, I thought. Grayson? Some regular customer? I figured it was the latter. Grayson wouldn't have been calling, not while I was home. At least I didn't think he would.

Well, now I knew why she hadn't been working these past weeks. She was babying me while I got over, as she saw it, my snit. She was probably under pressure to spread for some over her better customers, or so I rationalized. The situation was actually amusing.

It was beginning to look like we wouldn't make it. I'd hoped, but no dice. She clearly didn't really give a damn about me. Needed me? Yeah, for my income, but anything else, no. Depressing. 

******

Given the reality, what now, I wondered. Then it hit me, something my wife had mentioned in the heat of battle kept gnawing at me. I made a call. The result of the call? A certain Preston Scott came calling.

"Hello, Preston," I said as he took the seat opposite me in my office.

"Victor," he said.

I pushed the slip of paper over to him. "Can you find her?" I said.

"Carol Radcliff?" he said, reading the note. 

"Yes, whatever you can find out. I've put a few particulars there as you see to maybe get you started. But, the truth is I haven't seen or heard from her in years," I said.

"Sure, I can find her," he said. "This her married name?"

"Okay, good," I said. "And, no that was her maiden name years go. She'd likely be married for sure.

******

The four of them had commandeered a table near the back of the foodery. 

"So, mister Grayson, we have a deal then. You send me customers with money, and you get thirty percent," said Jorge Gonzales. Calvin looked over at his number one whore. Olivia nodded. 

"Miss Ellison, I need to hear you say it," said Marcus Gonzales. He was after all secretly recording everything that was said. One could never trust gringos.

"Yes. I guess. Yes, we're good to go," she said, sealing her fate if she ever tried to doublecross them.

"We'd be obliged if you could send us our first prospects by the weekend. We have a lot of product to move, and we'd like to move it in fewer but larger chunks to unload it," said Jorge. Grayson nodded.

"We can do that. We have candidates already lined up. All are big ticket users who have been picking it up mostly on street corners. They are anxious to simplify their purchasing and reduce their exposure.

The two pushers looked at each other and smiled. "Your clients can be more than confident of our security measures. It's in our interest as well as theirs," said Marcus.

"That's it then," said Calvin. Olivia Ellison smiled, but nevertheless had some misgivings. Her Victor would kill her if he knew, He'd off Grayson first for sure, but she'd be right behind him. Selling herself for hot cocks had caused her little concern, but now, to make more money, big money, she was risking everything. She didn't feel right about any of it, but, they were committed now. It was clear that the Gonzales brothers were not forgiving types. Yes, they were committed, no use whining about it. She'd have to figure out a way to focus on the bright side: the big bucks that would inevitably be coming their way.

"Did you see how the one, that Marcus, looked at me?" said Olivia. 

"Don't mind him. He fancies himself a ladies man. That could work for us at some point," said Grayson.

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking you can blow it out your ass. I will never fuck either one of those guys, not while I'm alive," said Olivia. Grayson, just smirked. For the first time in their relationship, she began to question the wisdom of even knowing the guy let alone doing business with him. Jesus what a mess.

******

Preston had gotten it, and it wasn't good. She'd been abused by her crazy assed husband, Arnold Thornton, who'd used her and beaten her on numerous occasions. But, all such notwithstanding, she'd covered for the asshole when the police had finally come calling—not for the abuse as it happened—but for possession of drugs to distribute. 

She'd been spared the worst of the possible punishments for aiding and abetting the scumbag, but she'd still been convicted and sentenced to three years for her involvement. That compared to the ten to twenty her erstwhile hubby was serving.

Now what to do. Caution to the winds: I made up my mind to see her; well, if she would see me. I made the hundred mile drive.

I watched as the guard ushered her and a dozen other inmates into the spacious hall. Steel tables with matching steel stools fixed to the floors dotted the place. A few children were in evidence accompanied by husbands and in a couple of cases likely grandmas. The object of my visit looked around trying to spot me. I'd spotted her the moment she'd come through the door: she'd been second in line.

When it became clear that she was having trouble spotting me, I raised my hand and waved. She saw me smiled, frowned, and gave me a tentative wave back. I motioned her to come to me; well, I had the table.

She covered the seventy or eighty feet in the best part of half a minute. It was clear she was nervous; her slow approach was evidence of that. I smiled encouragingly at her. She waved again when she finally came within greeting distance.

"Hi Victor," she said, breaking the ice.

"Hello beautiful. Please," I said, indicating the seat across from me.

"It's been a while," she said, ignoring my compliment which by the way she absolutely merited.

"It has that," I said, "Too damn long.




Olivia and Victor Ellison



"Look, Carol—this place—your situation, I get it. I was only able to find you because I put a PI on it. To say I was shocked and upset and concerned; well, you can imagine. The details you can tell me about later, or never. But, I really needed to see you. I hope you don't mind," I said.

"Mind? No of course not.

"Victor, obviously this is more than humiliating for me. When the guard told me I had a visitor not on my list, you; well, I at first I told them no way. I didn't want to see you. But, then I thought, you already knew I was inside. So how much worse could it be," she said. "So, I told them to let you in."

"But, aren't you married?" she said. "I remember you and Olivia..."

"It's complicated. She and I are on the outs, sort of. She's been cheating on me forever, and now I am about to have her served, maybe, probably. So, anyway, you may ask what does any of that have to do with you?

"You remember the last time I saw you? You may recall I was sniffing your panties and we were about to get it on, but never did because she caught us?" I said.

"Yes, I remember," she said. She giggled.

"Well, I learned my lesson that day. Don't cheat, that was the lesson; and, I haven't in all of the years since that day in my youth when you and I almost did. But...

"When not long ago I caught her cheating, or thought I had, I confronted her. She threw up to me our almost indiscretion, and well, that's what made me think of you. I've been thinking of you ever since.

"You look good by the way, pretty as always," I said. She looked down.

"Thank you," she said. "You look good too, Victor."

"I hear we can share lunch with you folks here," I said.

"Yes," she said. "The food's not the best, but it's okay. Would you like to eat now?"

"Yes," I said. She guided me over to a wide archway that led into the adjacent cafeteria area which was almost as a large as the room we'd just left. We got into line and were served as a number of uniforms looked on.

Over the next hour and a half, we got reacquainted. She learned about me, and I about her and her husband, Arnold Thornton; well, as much as we could in the time allowed. The biggee? She had a son, Robby Thornton, him by her now imprisoned forever husband. As I was about to have to leave, she made the commitment to put me on her regular visitor list along with her parents, two brothers, and her lawyer, a certain Quentin Wilcox Jr.

******

In the days and weeks that followed my overhearing her on the phone, Olivia and I got along okay. She wasn't seeing anybody. Could she have somehow snuck in a liaison or two here and there? Maybe, but it would have been a challenge. Hence, I doubted it. Plus what she told that guy on the phone that day seemed to be exactly what she'd meant: she wasn't going to risk alienating me.

******

At the end of the month following my visit to see Carol in the state pen, I got a visit myself, a surprise visit, from one Calvin Grayson, my wife's pimp and sometime lover.

"Okay, Denise, I'll see the man," I said. Well, I was mega-curious. She ushered him in. The recorder was running, and I hoped to hell there was no snafu gonna foul it up.

Grayson was tall, maybe six-three, slim, sandy haired and arguably handsome. He took a seat in front of me without my saying it was okay, and smiled.

"Yes, do have a seat, Mr. Grayson," I said, putting my stamp of approval on the already accomplished fact. "What can I do for you?"

"No wasting of words or time, huh, Mr. Ellison?" he said. I ignored his remarks.

"Again, what can I do for you, Mr. Grayson? I'm a busy man," I said. He let loose a sigh.

"I came here to apologize," Mr. Ellison.

"Apologize?" I said.

"Yes, about our—my behavior—at Olivia's company party. I shouldn't have kept your wife so long. I hasten to add that what all we did was naught but innocent," he said. I had to wonder what it might be that qualified as naught but innocent in his view; well, knowing what I knew that is to say.

"All right. Anything else?" I said.

"Only that I would like to invite you and your wife to my home for a party. It's this coming Saturday evening. It's my wife's birthday and we're having a number of friends and associates come by and, well, it came to me that I might be able to make amends for my faux pas to some small degree if you'd be so kinda as to let me," he said. I looked him straight in the eye. 

I was all but ready to summarily turn him down when a thought came to me. I decided that I wanted to meet Anita Grayson. And, a more perfect opportunity would be hard to imagine. 

******

The backyard of the Grayson home was spacious and well shaded, a lucky circumstance given the warm day.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Ellison," said Calvin. I nodded. He tendered my wife a small smile and a nod.

"I—we—almost didn't come, but Olivia here thought it might be a good idea on some level so here we are," I said. 

Yes, I had an ulterior motive, but laying the reason for our coming on my wife seemed a reasonable subterfuge.

"Well, again, thank you," he said. "Uh—if it would be good for you, I'd like to introduce you around." His offer was more or less a question.

"That would be nice," said Olivia. I shrugged my agreeableness. We toured the yard and talked with a number of folks none of whom I knew. But, at the end of the tour I'd met Mrs. Grayson, Anita Grayson: pretty, forty-something, and personable. I wondered if she suspected her husband's proclivities. 

"So how are you doing Mr. Ellison, Mrs. Ellison," said Anita Grayson. She was smiling broadly and her eyes had a twinkle in them.

"We're fine, doing well," I said. "Nice party."

"Well thank you sir," she said.

"Victor and Olivia," I said, indicating my wife, who hadn't been inclined to say much so far.

"Okay, Victor and Olivia it is," she said. "You can call me Anita." I bowed theatrically to acknowledge her permission. Olivia smiled and nodded.

Just then Calvin, who had wandered off after steering us to his wife, returned and commandeered my wife. I smiled my permission. 

"I have to say, I am surprised to see you here. I was pretty sure that if your wife came that you wouldn't," said Anita. I looked her askance.

"Really?" I said.

"Yes, Calvin let me know about the problem you had with him relating to her company's party," she said. "The two of them, and especially my husband, were less than irresponsible in that regard. He has told me that he would like to make it right by you." I smiled, and nodded that I understood her.

I was dying to know if she knew what her hubby was involved in. Listening to her I had to believe that she didn't.

We talked a little longer, but then she abandoned me to take care of something in the house. I wandered about just checking things out.

As the night wore on, people loosened up and some dancing was added to the mix. I danced with my wife three times and with our hostess once.

"So how was she," said Livy.

"Who?" I said.

"Anita," she said.

"She's nice, and a good dancer," I said. "Why?"

"The reason for this party was partly Anita's birthday, but not the only reason," said my wife.

"Oh?" I said.

"No. Calvin wanted to have you meet the group and kinda see if you could see your way clear to become part of it," she said.

"Group? What group is that? A group that swings?" I said, taking a flyer. My wife actually snorted her laughter.

"Ding dong, you get the prize. Yes. And your inclination in that regard would be?" she said.

"I'd have to think about it," I said. I did not want her to be cued as to my real feelings for her favorite pimp or his group; hence, the verbal subterfuge.

The party was winding down when she came up to me. "So, Victor, I hope you had a good time," said Anita.

"It was very nice," I said.

"You know, I'm a pretty good judge of character and of people's intentions, Victor. I've noticed you taking stock tonight if that's the way to phrase it.

"You know what's going on don't you?" she said. Suddenly I was trapped. I was very much aware that this woman had me down pat. Trying to lie to her could backfire big time.

"Meaning?" I said.

"That my husband runs a call girl service and that your wife is one of his girls," she said. She said it so matter-of-factly that I had to believe that she had another agenda rather than to merely inform or question me.

I stared at her but remained silent. I honestly had no idea how to handle this woman.

"Don't fret, Victor; he doesn't know that I know. That said, I think that you and I need to compare notes at some point and that rather sooner than later," she said. I felt that I had to gamble.

"Okay," I said. "When and where?"

"So you do know then?" she said. I nodded.

"Barney's B&G, lunchtime, Tuesday," she said.

"Okay," I said. 

Well, at least I could tell Preston that Grayson's wife did know what was going on, but that loverboy didn't know she knew. Interesting. I'd have Preston staying on Grayson and his little operation a deal longer. Who knew, I might get real lucky, and regardless, the info would help me in any decisions I'd have to be making down the line.

******

"What do you think Amigo," said Jorge.

"About him or her," said Marcus Gonzales.

"Him? He's the one that wants in on this. I could tell she was not really into the deal," said Jorge.

"I think he's trustworthy and a total amateur. So, so long as he delivers we'll keep him on the payroll. His list of customers was impressive. I mean the lieutenant governor and the assistant to the mayor. Yes, we'll deal with Mr. Grayson so long as he delivers," said Marcus. His brother nodded.

"And if he doesn't," said Jorge.

"In that case he isn't going to like us very much," said Marcus, laughing. "Not very much at all." Jorge just smiled, but it was a sinister smile.

******

I wasn't actually stalking them, but I wanted to get a look at the boy, little Robbie. Well, and his grands too. I knew that they were likely doing a good job taking care of him, but I needed to see anyway. Why did I need to see? I had realized after I'd left Carol at the prison that I cared about her, and, by inference, little Robbie. None of my business regardless of course? But, I'd had to see for myself anyway. 

Next time I was up at the prison I had it in mind to see if Carol would mind if I visited her parents and met the boy. Under other circumstances it might have been a no brainer, but with her inside and me still married, even if it turned out to be only technically; well, things were sure as hell complicated.

I saw the faded blue, thirty year old Datsun pull into the driveway of the even older rundown tract home. An elderly man get out: late seventies was my guess. He looked good for his age though maybe a little tired: Likely an athlete when he was younger. He went around to the other side of the car, and watched proudly as the little guy opened the door himself and was in the process of getting out. Grandma was nowhere in evidence. I drove off.

Okay, I'd seen him. What now. Well, nothing for the moment was the only possible answer. I could see the boy was in good hands. That was enough for me for now.

******

"Yes, I guess so," said Calvin Grayson. "Yes. It was a good idea for him to have come. I think it kind of humanized me. He still doesn't trust me, I know that, but I don't think he actually hates me anymore. Hell, girl, you tell me."

"He hasn't actually said anything about the party per se. And, you're right, he really doesn't much trust you or me either if it comes to that. But, sooner or later..." she said.

"You think he'll come around?"

"Maybe. He loves me. I don't think he'll mess us up, but we need to be more than careful just in case I'm wrong," she said. He nodded.

"Come here," he said, smiling. She smiled back at him.

"You wanna fuck me?" she said. "Wanna push your dick inside of me and make me scream? Is that what you're up to stud?"

"Can't fool you. You got me," he said.

"Strip," she said. He did as she commanded. 

"Now, lay down on the bed while I undress," she said. "Just watch." He smiled his willing ness to comply with her orders.

Finally naked, she swung over his face and settled her butt onto it. His mouth was under her pussy and nose was all but smothered by her anus. She smelled like musk, female musk; he gloried in it as she ground herself more or less gently on his face.

Somehow his mouth found her clit and began to suckle it; she shuddered her appreciation of his efforts. She began a slow rocking motion that brought her to the edge and then over the top. She stiffened. Her juices, now smeared liberally on his face were testimony to the undeniable truth that she had made it. 

She fell forward her face now rubbing desperately on his cock. She took hold of it and licked it and chewed on the foreskin. She guided him into her mouth and began to suck it. His turn to shudder at the maddening pleasure of her tongue swabbing his penis.

His back arched up straining to unload his store of semen. He shot his cream into her mouth and she swallowed it all. Licking him clean she began the campaign to raise the dead. It took a bit of time, but she got him hard once more. 

She mounted him cowgirl and rode him wildly to his second cum in a span of fifteen minutes.

His cock was now a lifeless thing languidly resting on his pubis.

"Good 'ole Victor get you off like that?" he said.

"Of course not. Victor has never gotten me off with his dick; you know that; that's why you're here. You didn't think it was because of your outstanding good looks did you?" she said. 

His laugh was infectious; she joined him.

"You really should teach that man of yours how to do you," said Calvin.

"His dick is too average to really do me up right. He can do oral, but even there he's only—again—average. It's like doing it tires him out; he just hasn't got as lick of stamina. More's the pity," she said.

"Well, just don't let him ever know what you think of him. That would not be good," said Calvin.

******

I was on the list and the guard ushered me right into the common area. It was the same one as before, but without the waiting forever to get approved.

She was in the middle of the pack this time, but she saw me almost immediately and sidled on over to me. I stood and greeted her. She took her seat.

"It is so good to see you, Victor. I really have been looking forward to seeing you again," she said.

"Good, okay," I said. We got the small talk out of the way and a period of silence ensued. I broke the spell.

"Carol, I have to say I am so glad to see you too. I know it's not the best of circumstances. I would do anything to get you outta here if I could, but at least for now I'll take what I can get," I said.

"Victor, can I ask? Why are you here really? Yes, your wife mentioned my name, I get it, but the way you are talking you plan to maybe grow old with her; so, why hang out with a con like me?"

"Truth, Carol? I'm not sure. I had feelings for you once, and well, I think I still do. The fact that you're here is a problem, but not an insoluble one. And, my wife has pretty much destroyed our marriage. I am in the process of divorcing her. I haven't had her served yet, but it's more likely to happen than not.

"My wife is a pro, a prostitute, Carol. I found out about it just recently. Could she and I overcome something like that? I won't kid you. It is remotely possible. But, as each day passes it becomes less likely. There's more, but that's the biggee as far as I'm concerned," I said.

"Wow," she said. She seemed to shiver, no, squirm.

"Victor, and if you do divorce her then what," said Carol.

"Not sure. Try and pick up the pieces of my life. Start over. I don't know." She nodded.

"Victor I will be getting out of here one of these days. Another year maybe. Good behavior and the crowded conditions here could make it happen even sooner, not sure. Anyway, that's what I was told. It may not happen, but it looks like it might," she said. I gazed into her eyes not sure what I was thinking or just how to react to her words. She still technically had two years plus to serve. If she were able to get that reduced, how would that affect my plans? Plans, in actuality that I didn't even have completely formulated yet. 

"Early release? Really? My God that would be great news," I said. Now I was the one squirming. She seemed to relax at the instance of my apparent enthusiasm.

"Yes, it is. Anyway, I have my fingers crossed," she said.

"If—when—it happens can I be the one to pick you up," I said. "I mean I know your parents..." She nodded vigorously. I was feeling really good.

"Carol, I'm going to ask you a favor that you might want to consider."

"A favor?" she said. I slowly nodded, not sure how to present my thoughts. I sure as hell didn't want to seem pushy or arrogant either one; but how to avoid it..."

"Victor?" she said, interrupting my self-interrupted thought processes.

"Carol, if you'd allow, I would be very much grateful if you would let me help you with your son Robbie. And, yes, I do mean financially. I have the bucks, and I'm sure that your parents could use the help. I mean..."

"You want to help Robbie? Me? Financially?" she said.

"In a word, yes," I said. She studied me.

"I won't kid you, Victor, my parents could use the help; they're not rich, and things have been tough. But, all in all, sir you hardly know me; I mean the 'me' of this part of my life. And, in case you haven't noticed, I'm a criminal serving time as punishment for my offenses," she said.

"Carol, I do know you. You chose badly marrying Thornton; and I'm sure there's a story behind that particular choice. But, I do know you, the real you. True it's been years gone now, but I knew you then and I feel that you will be that same girl again when you do get out of this awful place," I said.

"I could hope for as much. And, yes, I married mister Thornton because he knocked me up and, well, you can guess the rest," she said. I nodded.

"Permission then?" I said.

"Okay, I will inform my parents when they visit later today. So yes. And, I want you to know I will be very grateful for your help, as will they I am sure.

So just like that I had an obligation to help an old friend with something that was of more than major importance to her: her son.

******

It was Tuesday, and I was sitting at a table near the patio fence at Barney's B&G waiting for the wife of my target. A man approached me. He was dressed in a shabby blue suit. He smiled as he approached.

"Sir, are you Victor Ellison?" he said. I looked him askance.

"Yes, Yes, I am," I said.

"Sir, you are served," he said. He handed me a manila envelope and departed without another word. Of course I knew what it was, or was pretty sure I did.

I opened the package and sure enough, she was divorcing me. I suddenly felt weird. On the one hand I felt a kind of relief. On yet another hand I felt a level of sadness. Then, my thoughts turned to my wife and her paramour, if that's what he was, and then to Carol and her situation, and then to all of the happenings of the past days and weeks. Finally, my thoughts turned to what might have been her possible motivation. Well, whatever it was, it was going to be changing my plans yet again.

I called Preston right away. Ducks in a row. I hadn't done much in that direction until now, but now I had the motivation. 

"Hi, sailor," said the lilting voice behind me. I jumped. 

"Anita, you surprised me," I said.

"Sorry, didn't mean to," she said. "You look pensive; something wrong?"

"Depends on how you look at it I suppose," I said.

"Huh?"

"My wife just served me with divorce papers, kinda surprised me," I said. She gave me a look. I snickered.

"I can imagine," she said. "So whaddya gonna do?" 




Olivia and Victor Ellison



"See a lawyer in the A.M. I suppose," I said. She nodded.

"If it's okay with you, maybe we could use the same lawyer. I've decided to dump the asshole I'm married to," she said. 

"Really?" I said.

"Yes, he's into something that he's afraid to tell me about; I mean apart from his little escort enterprise, and I do not intend to be collateral damage to any of his machinations. Not now, not ever."

"Well yes then, sure, not problem," I said. "And, I think I have the right lawyer in mind. I'll let you know within a day or two if that would be all right."

"Sure bet," she said.

We talked for some little time. In the end I made the call to Preston. Told him of Anita's suspicions, and asked him to find out what he could. He said he would.

******

I knocked a few times and heard the footsteps of someone coming to the door. The man stared at me for a moment then smiled a greeting.

"You must be Mr. Ellison, said the man. Carol told us to expect you. We don't get too many visitors. Nice to meet you," he said. I smiled too, mainly because I hadn't even confirmed my identity to that point. I remedied that now.

"Yes, sir, that's so. I am Victor Ellison," I said.

"Well come in, come in," He said.

******

Denise didn't even bother to alert me. He'd just walked in. "She just waved me in," he said. "Am I the only one so privileged?" said Preston Scott.

"Yes, you are. I take it you have info on our good buddy Grayson," I said.

"Oh yeah I do," he said. "Big news. He's still pimping her out, and he may be into some other really bad stuff, don't know if she is, but it figures that she is."

"Big stuff?" I said. He saw my concerned look and nodded.

"Real bad stuff, Victor. He's talking to a couple of big time drug distributors and they don't work for Johnson and Johnson if you get my drift. And they're not into drugs only, but gun running and likely human trafficking—read white slavery. Like I said, I don't know if your wife's in the know about it or part of it; but, Victor, you need to be prepared. And, you need to decide if you really want to bring her down. Because..."

"Yeah, I get it. Because if she in on it with him she will be going away for a long time. It's a zero tolerance state," I said.

"Yes," he said, "and more, Victor, it's federal shit and they, the feds, are more than unforgiving. Victor it's the Gonzales brothers. They'll kill her if they think she's a danger to them. I don't know what this Grayson guy was thinking or if he was thinking, but he is either exceptionally greedy or exceptionally stupid, and it's more than possible that he's both.

"I know you're down on Olivia right now and with good reason; but—that down on her? Anyway, let me know your pleasure," he said. I nodded. 

"I will," I said. "I will." That I didn't give him the go ahead to bring them down at that moment I suppose said something about my feelings for her. She was in on it, Grayson's stupid act; I was sure of it. There was no getting around it; she was too close to the guy. I was pretty sure he wasn't fucking her, but I almost wish she were that instead of this. Jesus, what a mess. I did make up my mind about one thing. I was going to pin her about it. I had to. I would never forgive myself if I didn't try to steer her away from that asshole, that stupid asshole!

******

I was more than anxious to see her, and that on several levels. She was first in line this time. Her smile was a mile wide which fact improved my own good humor.

"Victor," she started without so much as a hello. "Dad told me what you've done, Victor I am so grateful to you. My Robbie..." she started to cry. "I mean fifty thousand dollars!"

"Carol, I wanted to do it. You did me a favor allowing me to see Robbie, and your parents of course. While you're in this place I will do what I can to protect you and yours; I promise you that," I said.

"Victor—I—I—someday I will make it up to you. I promise you that," she said.

"Enough, okay?" I said. "I'm not a poor man, Carol, I can afford it. It's done and there is no need to continue to dwell on it."

"I sure do wish you were married to me instead of Olivia, but what is, is, I guess," she said. She'd said the magic words.

"You really feel that way, Carol?" I said.

"You have no idea," she said. "And yes, absolutely. Of course I feel that way. A guy like you? I don't know what Olivia could be thinking, but she's gotta be nuts. If you..."

"Never mind, girl, when the day comes that we can be more to each other than we are now; well, let's just say that we will play it by ear," I said. She nodded, but it was a nod with a smile. And, then she cried.

I hadn't mentioned my wife's divorce action to her. I wanted to talk to Olivia first, but I would be telling her as soon as I was sure of everything. Then I got a call.

******

"Victor?" said the choked up voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello? Livy?" I said in answer. "I got your papers. I will be responding in a few days."

"Victor, I need you," she said. She was crying full out now. 

"Livy? What the matter?" I said.

"Victor. I'm in jail. I need you—bad" she said. 

"What! Jail! What!" I said. I started getting my thoughts all in a row. 

"Grayson?" I said. It had to be. 

"Not just him. Me and him. I've been bad, Victor, and very wrong. And stupid too. Please, Victor, help this girl; I beg of you, on my knees I beg of you," she said.

"Okay, okay," I said. "Where are you being held?" she spent a couple of minutes giving me the particulars with me grunting at appropriate intervals to demonstrate my understanding. "Okay, I will be down as fast as I can." It was odd that she'd not said word one about her divorce action.

After hanging up, I noted a couple of things. First off, she'd essentially thrown herself under the same bus as her buddy, Grayson; one has to admire loyalty misplaced or not. Secondly, at no time did she indicate her undying love for me; but well, she was divorcing me. What she did do was express her trust in me that I would be there for her no matter what. On that score she was essentially right on. 

I had loved her too long and too completely for it to be any other way regardless of what the BTB crew and the hate mongers would have understood or believed. And, yes, I completely realize, that my thinking, in the light of the current reality was completely at odds with my previous plans to bring them down. Incongruous, yeah—so the fuck what."

I called Mr. Wilcox, Carol's attorney. I'd not met with him yet, but Carol had given me the skinny on who he was and that she trusted him. I asked him to meet me at the county lockup. 

An hour later Wilcox and myself were waiting in a private room with very thick and heavy doors. She was led in.

The guard was in the room with us. It was a requirement since only her lawyer could have private conferences with her at this point.

Over the next half hour she gave up the particulars of what she'd done, been involved with, the Gonzalez brothers: the lot of it. I noted the guard acting a little uncomfortably when the Gonzalez family was mentioned. 

She finally brought up the divorce. "Victor," she said, finally, "I sent you those divorce papers because I didn't want you mixed up in the stuff I was mixed up in. I've done you so wrong that I just couldn't do you wrong anymore. I hope you understand." I nodded. And I did believe her.

Wilcox asked to speak with his new client alone. Both the guard and myself left.

They were in there alone for the next half hour. At length the two of them did emerge.

The guard led my wife down the hall and away from me. I nodded to her and she mouthed the word please to me several times. I would do my best: I realized that I had to; She'd been the love of my life. I just hoped I could do enough. I didn't want her in that place in spite of everything.

The trial came up per short date. She'd been inside the county lockup for some two months plus. She could have gotten bail; I offered it. But, I'd been talked out of it by Wilcox. He, in consultation with the D.A, saw a real danger in her being out and about until the Gonzales brothers were out of circulation because they had made bail: Livy had turned state's evidence.

Grayson, numb scull that he was, refused to testify against the brothers. His decision was made either out of fear to do so or out of misplaced loyalty to scumbags like the brothers.

When all was said and done, Grayson got ten years for intent to distribute. The brothers got twenty for a long list of misdeeds. Livy got three, and with good behavior looked to make parole in eighteen months. 

I visited her while she was in county. She knew our marriage was toast. I let her know that I knew about her selling herself for money. She cried for the entire hour I was with her. Hell, truth told I did to. But, she also knew I wouldn't abandon her in her hour of need. I guess when it came down to it, there was no way I could hurt her no matter what she'd done to me. It was what it was.

******

Carol had told me that Wilcox was the best lawyer in the state. I'd taken her word for it. But, now I was going to test her theory. I made the call.

The meet up was at Barney's; I'd kinda made that my main hangout in recent times. I saw him enter and wave to me. I waved back as he almost sauntered over to me; not a mean feat for an older out of shape law dog.

"Hello, mister Ellison," said Quentin Wilcox. "Got your message. Said it was urgent?"

"Well, yes, kinda," I said. "Carol told me you could work miracles. I would like to hire you to work one for a friend," I said. He looked me askance.

"Miracles? Truth told, I'm still having trouble with the water into wine thing. But, most other things are usually workable," he said, without so much as cracking a smile, though I did.

"It's my ex-wife," I said. "She was busted for possession to distribute. Turned states and got a reduced sentence, three years." 

"Okay?" he said. "And?"

"Well, she's currently at state prison in Hartsville," I said.

"Okay, medium security. Not a nice place, but not real bad," he said.

"Can you get her transferred to Kearny? You know where Carol currently is at," I said. He rocked back in the deck chair that served the patio area at Barney's.

"You say she turned state's evidence?" he said.

"Yes," I said.

"Can I ask you a question?" he said. I nodded.

"Last I heard you were going to bring her and her lover down if I had it right? Carol kinda told me some stuff," he said.

"Well, yes, but her and her friend, and he wasn't her lover exactly, managed to do it to themselves," I said. He smiled. 

"I don't even have to ask. They were trying to make the fast buck, right?" he said.

"I guess you could make a case for that," I said.

"Mister Ellison, I have to tell you, I don't usually go out of my way for dealers and sellers of drugs. Illegal pharmacists are the bane of modern society. But, for you, I'm inclined to make an exception. That because you are a friend of my favorite client," he said. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." I handed him what I considered a reasonable retainer. I had confidence that he could do it. It would be three weeks before I heard from Mr. Wilcox. The news was good.

"Send him in Denise," I said. My secretary extraordinaire ushered him in. 

******

"Does that smile indicate success?" I said. The law dog plopped down in the seat across from my desk.

"Yes," he said. "She's being transported as we speak. "You know, I'm sure that the two of them will meet at some point. Can I enquire, how are you planning to handle that?" I smiled.

"Truthfully, not sure, but I will handle it. I've got a little something going with Carol, and if she's amenable, well..."

"Oh, I think she's going to be amenable all right," said Quentin Wilcox. I looked up.

"She said something to you?" I said.

"Uh-huh," he said. "You've got a lock if you don't hurt her. She's been hurt a lot. She really does not trust men all that much anymore. You seem to the exception to that little codicil, however." I nodded, slowly, but I nodded. I had decisions to make—final decisions.

******

I arrived at Kearny just as they opened up the gate for the visitors to file in. I spotted a table that was more or less shaded from the direct sunlight; I seized it.

The wait was less than ten minutes before she spotted me, Olivia spotted me. She gave me a look and headed for me?

"Victor?" she said, coming up to me.

"Hello, Livy. You okay?" I said.

"Yeah, I caught a break. First time offender. I got transferred her," she said. "Beats state by a mile, several miles actually," she said. "I'm surprised to see you. Did I miss something in our last conversation?"

"No, actually, I'm here..."

"Hi stud," said Carol joining us. 

"Carol? Carol Radcliff!" said Olivia.

"Thornton, Hasn't been Radcliff for a long time," she said. "But, yes it's me, and it's Thornton though hopefully not for long." Olivia gave her a look.

"I didn't know you were here," started Olivia. 

"No way you would have; you're new and you are still pretty much cloistered with the other newbies. We'll be seeing each other more as time goes on," said Carol.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. You two..." started Olivia

"Yes, I'm here to see Carol, Livy. We've kinda got a thing going. We're in the beginning stages, but anyway..." I said.

"Oh, I see. Sorry, didn't mean to..." and she turned and strode off. I could see her shoulders heaving. She was sobbing as she almost ran from us—me."

"Does she know you're the one who got her over here from state?" said Carol.

"No, I don't think so. She was led to believe that she was transferred because of crowded conditions at state and the fact that she was a first time offender. So, again, no," I said. She nodded.

I drove home slowly. I wondered if sticking my nose into my ex's case was a mistake. But no, I knew it wasn't, not for me. I had to help her if I could, and it had turned out that I could, so I did. She'd only been in state prison for three months. But I was pretty sure that that was more than long enough to appreciate the difference between those confines and Kearny.

And then there was Carol. I had kept my feelings for her more or less under control until now. The electricity between us was easily discernible. I needed that woman, as I know realized. Up to now we'd been what—sparring—now it was time to take the relationship to the next level. I had to start the campaign to win her for real as soon as I could. I would be talking to her on next visiting day: seriously talking to her.

******

This one I was more than sure about. I don't know what the hold of this guy was over Olivia, but it was going to end. When she got out, there would be no visits to her former mentor, no longing for the old promiscuous lifestyle. No, she had to turn it around. She had to get him and his out of her system. Why did I give a damn: stupid question.

I loved the woman. Her betrayal and her arrogance about it finished us, but thoughts of her and me over morning coffee talking about nothing and everything. The good sex when we had it, especially in the early days, sealed my feelings for her in positive ways. There were other things, things that we'd shared before me becoming knowledgeable as to her—and Grayson's—perfidy. I cared for her. I cared for her to the extent that I wanted her to have a fresh start. She'd be a couple of years getting it, but I wanted her to have it; I badly wanted her to have it.

He was led into the common area and I saw him smirk as he saw me and come over.

"Well, well, well if it isn't the ex-husband," he said. "May I ask what has prompted this totally unexpected visit?"

"To tell you the truth, Grayson, I'm not sure. No, that's not true, I do know what prompted it; I just don't know what reason I had to hope that it would do any good," I said. He gave me a strange look, not a smirk. He seemed confused.

"Okay," he said, evenly.

"You ruined her life, Grayson. You know that," I said.

"She's a big girl. She made her own decisions."

"Yeah, with a lot of coaching from you. You ruined my life too, my life with her," I said.

"If you're talking about the sex stuff, you could've, should've, joined us. We wanted you to, especially her. You were just too puritanical to get it. You'd have loved it, really," he said.

"No, no I wouldn't have," I said. "But, it was more than just the prostitution. The drugs and the bad elements that you mixed her up with, those were biggees."

"All ancient history now," said Grayson. "You here just to cast stones?"

"No. When she gets out, I do not want her to see you, or if she tries, for you to refuse to see her. She needs to start over, to get away from what was," I said.

He smiled. Like I said before, she's an adult. She'll be making her own decisions. If she comes by, I will see her. I want to see her," he said. "Hell, I want to marry her myself," he said.

"Thought you were gay?" I said.

"Bi," he said.

"Then you leave me no choice. I'm going to be turning over some stuff to the D.A. that I've got. If I work it right, you will never be getting out. The evidence I have is only suggestive of your involvement with the Gonzales brothers' heavy stuff, and I'm not talking about drugs, Grayson; I'm talking about human trafficking. And I'm pretty sure the FBI can add more to it if they have a reason to look. Could you skate even if I give them what I know? Maybe. But then you'd have the gang to worry about. That said...

"You stay away from Olivia and the evidence stays out of sight gathering dust," I said. "It's that simple." His look had shifted from confident arrogance to thoughtful concern.

"You'd best not be doing anything reckless. I do have friends on the outside," he said.

"Ahh, the last refuge of the desperate bad guy, threats," I said. "I've said what I came to say. Don't test me, Grayson; I never bluff." I stood, stared at him for a few seconds trying to gauge the effectiveness of my pitch. He was impassive, but his arrogance was gone. I was pretty sure I'd made an impact.

******

It was sixteen months into Olivia's sentence and nineteen months into Carol's and they, along with 116 others got the good news: unconditional release!

"I got the call at ten in the morning. I was actually with a client. I finished up with him and was on the road without even so much as going home to change out of my suit.

I was waiting outside the gate when they exited. Yes, they, Carol and Olivia were released at the same time. They saw me and came to me. I was leaning back against the car door with a smile on my face, a broad as all outdoors smile.

"Okay if we give Olivia a ride, Victor," said Carol.

"Of course, a no brainer," I said.

We were ten miles down the road when she, Carol, laid it on me. "Victor," she said.

"What?" I said. "Her tone of voice concerned me a little.

"Livy, will need some help too for the short haul. Do you think she could stay with us for a while?" said Carol. I relaxed.

"Sure, no problem. Livy, you're welcome at our place any time. But, your former business..."

"Victor, I will only be handling household interiors from now on. Well, if I can get my job back," she said. She lost it, her job, of course when she went inside. But, I had an idea about that. 

I knew some people that I did taxes for that could be persuaded to hire a very beautiful sales agent who knew the ropes of interior decorating. And, the two guys I was thinking of did the industrial stuff not just the home and gardens thing that Livy had been involved with till her arrest.

******

Carol and I were married not a month after her getting out. Robbie was adopted by me and we settled into a lifestyle that most folks would envy. And the sex—primo.




Olivia and Victor Ellison



Livy stayed with us for some three months. I was able to engineer a job for her that paid her three times what she'd made at Homestead. A year later she fell in love with one of the guys who'd hired her. She would be all right.

"I was sitting in my usual spot at my usual hangout, Barney's B&G, when she plopped into a seat across from me.

"Well handsome, I found out something today that makes me wonder just how big an idiot I was to play around on you," said Livy.

"Olivia, what the heck?" I said.

"I hear you were the one that got me transferred from state to Kearny. That so?" she said.

"Water under the bridge, Liv, ancient history. Forget it," I said.

"You have no idea how bad state prison was, Victor. So, I will not forget it. AI had treated you so badly, and you still went to bat for me. I have no words," she said.

"Olivia, I can't explain it. I loved you. Still do on some level. I couldn't let you rot. I had to do something, and it was little enough."

"All I can say, stud, is that you had my back. If you ever need someone to have yours, I'm there. Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure," I said. I saw Carol in the doorway eyeing us. I waved her over. She came.

"You the one who told her?" I said. Sure that she was.

"Yes, so sue me," she said.

"Well, you two, I will leave you to your own devices. I have a date with my intended," said Olivia.

"So, woman, did you say sue you or screw you?" I said. She punched me in the arm.

"Hey, that hurt," I said, not quite laughing out loud.

"Tough deal with it," she said. And, then she was kissing me. Helluva note.