0 comments/ 13012 views/ 0 favorites Charmaine's Meaningful Affair By: Egmont0409 CHAPTER 1 Sitting on a stool at the bar in a rowdy group who'd been to dinner at the Comedy House restaurant-theatre, Charmaine Ross noticed the curly-haired guy about her age studying her, thankfully appearing very casual about it. The heart of the bored woman fluttered. She hadn't committed adultery for a couple of years. Unless she did it soon she'd forget how good it was. Douglas was losing fitness and these days puffed and even dribbled over her and he performed his beloved bang. Like most women, she didn't mind being banged provided her hair wasn't messed and she didn't suffer a broken nail or ended up with bite marks marring her beautifully shaped breasts or on, sadly, thickening thighs. Good sex always made her feel alive. The naughty streak in her was screaming, 'Do it!' Charmaine slowly parted her knees a little. The guy's eyes changed from casually roaming to become transfixed. Or was that just her imagination? The beautifully made-up brunette opened her knees even wider, now feeling a bit of cool air flow. Wow. The guy's eyes were now riveted. Charmaine kept her eyes on him. Slowly he looked up and their eyes locked. She steeled herself to keep staring and he didn't look away either. The feeling of a furnace firing between her legs made her swallow but she refused to look away. He was invading her space and she had rights. Damn. A scrawny female glided up to him, picked up her handbag off the bar and pulled him off towards the door. At the door the guy turned and Charmaine completely lost it and waved. The guy jerked his head in surprise and then turned and the couple disappeared. "Who were you waving to?" Douglas asked casually. "An assistant at a dress store I favor, Sara Potts," Charmaine lied with ease. She'd always been a creative thinker. "She just went out with a guy that I doubt is her husband." "Perhaps you ought to frequent dress stores with more reputable assistants?" "Moral reputation has no relationship with being remembered, what your dress size is and what new lines are in since the last time you visited." "God I didn't realize choosing a dress was a process involving a sophisticated relationship." "You're learning darling," Charmaine said, handing Douglas her empty glass and wondering why the most interesting conversations she seemed to have with him these days involved her lies. She had absolutely no idea who Miss Scrawny aka Sara Potts was and admired her invention of name. Douglas had ordered the drinks and was talking to the McKenzie's when the barman from the other end came up and asked was she waiting for another drink. "It's been ordered thank you." As he was retreating Charmaine called him to wait. He returned. "That guy with a suit and a black shirt, no tie you were serving, do you happen to know his name." The barman looked at the beautiful wide-faced woman in green with dark red lips that looked almost like velvet. "Yes, Earl Wright." "Look he could return sometime and ask do you know who the brunette in green was. Could you please give him this card?" "Earl is married." "So? If he does ask could you please give him my card?" "Sure," he smiled, taking the card and saying, "Charmaine Ross, the author! Wow." "Do you read me?" "No but my wife does. She gets the hots reading you and I benefit." "Naughty boy," Charmaine giggled and the barman looked pleased. Douglas handed Charmaine her drink and asked, "What were you talking to that barman about?" Charmaine sighed thinking Christ, weren't men a bore. She said stupidly, "He asked me who you were and were you gay." "What!" Douglas roared. "Shhhhh. Douglas, for god sake. I was joking. He simply commented he hadn't seen us in the bar before and I answered probably not, well certainly not me." "Are you sure?" asked the attorney, burning around his collar. Douglas had been a better than average footballer and a rower and prided himself on his masculinity. "Absolutely. I'm sorry I fed you that stupid joke." "Well watch your mouth." "Thank you Douglas." She turned away to ask, "Chapman, been to any good parties lately?" "Only the one Charmaine. You and Douglas were invited but had a prior engagement." "Oh remind me whose party was that?" "Mine." "And mine," snorted wife Debra. "It was a great night but guess who put in all the hard work?" "Chappie?" "I ought to land my shoe forcibly against your balls Douglas," Debra said, and that started a great discussion between the six of them in the group whether society had progress enough today to allow a woman to make that comment to a man in a public place and within hearing of assorted people. Showing his cleverness Douglas immediately asked for a definition of assorted people. Either eight or nine days later Charmaine was sipping coffee on the deck, taking a break after a heavy two-hour writing session after clearing away after breakfast when the phone went. "This is Charmaine." "What a beautiful name. Would you come away with me this weekend?" "That is highly unlikely. What are you selling -- dream holidays?" "I'm Earl Wright." "Well Mr Wright I'm afraid I must cut... Um Earl Wright from The Holy Grail bar two Saturdays ago?" "That is accurate recall." "And that's not a proper answer. What color of dress was I wearing?" "Green and it appeared a little too wide at the knees." Charmaine colored. "That tells me you are who you say you are. I just happened to be in a playful mood." "And playful enough to give Rex the barman your card in case I returned asking who you were." "Yes," she said in her best voice. "Can we meet?" "Why?" "I'm a romance writer. It's time I embarked on another hot time with a guy to jazz up my thinking." "But without divulging personal detail?" "Do you think I'm stupid or dangerous?" He laughed and said she may have a little bit of both in her because she was only human." She didn't answer. "Apologies, my humor ran away on me. Good breeding required me not to answer your comment about being stupid in case I fluffed the reply. Charmaine didn't reply. "Would lunch Friday suit you, say 2:00 at South Corner Bar and Grill?" "I'm married and my understanding is so are you." "Correct but the possibility of joint wickedness is involved here." She sighed. "I couldn't have put that better myself. This is confidential but my husband has a mistress." "You have my sympathy if that's required. This is confidential but my wife sleeps with my brother." "Ohmigod that could be devastating for you?" "Well I was upset to find out about them but I don't believe they know I know. I'm now at the stage of admiring Joe for his good taste." "Well, you are sounding like an interesting person. I only associate with persons I find interesting. I'll be at the bar and grill. Goodbye. Charmaine cut the call before she heard a response. She called her publisher's commissioning editor. "Oh hi Charmaine," said Mary-Anne (M-A), sounding if she welcomed a breather from deskwork. "We were only talking about you at our Monday review and production meeting wondering if you needed a push to keep communicating." "Well M-A, I was disappointed with the sales feedback on my current paperback. It's the first time in three years I've failed to register sales exceeding 40,000 in the first six months of publication." "Well we are worried too. It's a long time since you topped 300,000 in sales with 'Bitch in Tights'." "Yeah, at least I show consistency. All sales have reduced for each work since then." Charmaine heard the hollow laugh and flinched. She sighed. "Are you guys losing interest in me?" "Well I'm not. No way do I think you've hit your potential." "But the others?" There was a pause. "Come on M-A. Be a bitch and cough it out." "Um, it has been suggested we drop you because your spiral is downward. Are you okay hearing that?" "Yes. I'm not brainless. I only heard what I expected to hear but thought I'd have to go to Mrs White to hear it." "Charmaine let me get through to you. I believe in you." "For a hardnosed bitch you have a sweetness about you M-A. Can you do lunch tomorrow?" "Sorry, I have... "Thursday?" "That's the day of our new author's lunch." Charmaine sniffed and brushed aside her fringe to hear Mary-Anne say, "I can do lunch today at 1:00." "Fine, usual place that is cheap but clean." "Yes. Get your sales back to 100,000-plus and I'll take you somewhere swanky, treating you as my protégé." "That's a deal." Charmaine in gray watched the fifty-one-year old wave in answer to her wave and head for the table. Thrice-divorced Mary-Anne now lived with two cats, worked huge hours in publishing and worked writing at nights. She was a top-seller of spy-romance-murder novels. Tragic endings to novels weren't supposed to work but apparently Mary-Anne's loyal following hadn't heard about that. "You look dowdy," Charmaine said, kissing the older woman affectionately and Mary-Anne who claimed she dressed that way to keep men at bay smiled appreciatively. They lunched lightly and over coffee Charmaine said, "I'm stopping work on my current romance with the feeling I've written it before." "If you don't get out and about taking in new experiences it's possible your writing will take you on a circuitous route -- I've spoken to you about that previously." "Actually I imagined it and used it as an excuse to stop work." "Oh?" "Yes I have a new project in mind and want you guys to publish it, although it will be nonfiction." "You know we publish only fiction and then only romance." "So?" "I won't be able to move Marion White on this Charmaine, be reasonable." "You can just say first present me the manuscript." "Very well, first present me the manuscript. It that sways me I'll really push for you. Have you a working title?" "Yes, 'How To Manage Adultery." "Jesus," Mary-Anne said, green eyes widening and fixing on her never boring fellow author. "I don't wish to say any more." "That's fine by me. My mind is reeling. I'm not aware if you're had affairs but even so I believe if there ever was an author to present such a textbook it's you Charlie." (Very few people were permitted to call Charmaine that name; her father was one but Douglas was not). "Textbook? I was thinking fact-fiction." "Ohmigod, we might just get away pushing that category. Keep that in mind when you begin writing." Charmaine flushed in pleasure. "I won't require an advance." "Good, because I couldn't give you one without Mrs White's authority since it's outside our publishing specifications. Just hit me with the finished ms." That evening in the restaurant Charmaine said to husband Douglas, "Oh darling I'm intending to have an affair." Douglas' reactions were interesting, providing useful pre-writing research. At first he looked as if he hadn't heard her properly and then guilt flashed across his face. Then his eyes narrowed and he snapped, "What's this I'm hearing?" Charmaine thought that was awfully imprecise language for an attorney to use in such a serious discussion. He listened quietly as she explained her project and he made the perfectly reasonable suggestion, "Couldn't you write about it without actually having to commit adultery?" She said no and he shrugged. So she turned the screw. "Does this mean we divorce?" Douglas looked astonished. "Whatever for?" "Er following on from what I've just told you it would mean me being unfaithful to you." "Charmaine, for heaven's sake. This is the 21st Century." She went to the restroom to note the main points of that conversation in her writer's log. In bed that night Douglas proved very robust and Charmaine had to think way back to recall his penis being so thick and strong. "I find you exciting, very attractive and exceedingly sexy," Douglas crooned, as he shoved it in and really banged her methodically, strumming almost all of her sexual sensors. He finally had Charmaine scream into a huge climax that left her lying back, sweating and shocked. Was that really Douglas? * * * On Friday morning Charmaine went for a brisk walk because her nerves were on edge and then went to her hour-long Pilates class. As she walked the short distance home to her apartment she felt the excitement that had calmed due to exercising begin to build again. She had to tell someone so called her most trusted person, daughter Grace and left a message. The seventeen-year-old senior at a private boarding school answered the message between classes. "Would you like your mother to be a famous author?" "Famous? You are securing more sales that many published authors but you told me yourself you have peaked and now appear to be fading fast." "Answer the question." "Yes of course mom. It would make you happy, a big mission in life fulfilled and I for one would be very proud of you but so would dad and Stephen." "Oh darling." "What's happened to force this issue?" "I've decided to reposition and know this next book will sell by the tens of thousands, actually tens of hundreds of thousands." "What a cook book?" "No." "Oh god you are going to shame the family and write porn." "Grace, you know your mother better than that. Sex figures but it's not porn, if I'm any judge of that." "Porn is like that ass-fucking DVD you and I watched last summer." "God no, that was sheer porn, guys lining up. I can't believe I watched that and am ashamed I allowed you to watch it." "I regarded it as easing me towards adulthood mother. I was too nervous to look at it by myself. I returned it to Helen and she got it back into her mom's library before it was discovered missing. Oh mom, must dash. I love you mom and would be out of me tree if you produce a best-seller. You keep confident, do you hear?" "Yes dear. You are coming home the long weekend coming up?" "Yes of course. Stephen will be catching the same train so I'll look out for him but knowing him he'd be in a gang and the little shits will want to feel me up if I go in and talk to him." "Grace!" "Bye mom." Charmaine looked at the phone in despair. How could little Stephen be in such company with boys who thought like that? He was only fourteen. Soaping herself in the shower with soft-wash Charmaine ran her hands over her trimmed bush and wondered if she should shave it for Earl before they did it. But what would Douglas think about that? God, this affair was becoming complicated before it had commenced. Walking to the restaurant -- their apartment was so central to almost everything decent in the city -- Charmaine sighed thinking it was likely this um field research for her new book would land her with no end of complications. Well at least that ought to fire up content... and her as a lover and writer. Er hopefully. Earl Wright moved off his bar stool to greet her. Charmaine hadn't realized he was so tall or that his hair was very light brown, approaching blond. His eyes went from her face, dipped quickly to just below her neck and flicked back up. She supposed he thought that was rapidly enough for her not to notice. Well she was wearing a cream textured dress that was a little too tight because she'd planned to be closely inspected. Romeo here wouldn't want to launch into an affair with a woman with a body like a hen. She was rather tense so was relieved when instead of moving into kiss her and feel a breast, Earl held out a hand. She went to shake it but he pulled it up and kissed it, almost prompting her to wet herself in surprise. She would have don't that of course, no matter how big the surprise but one can never be sure about such things. "How lovely to see you again." "Ohmigod that was supposed to be her line. Well she could shock him by saying when would he like to have sex with her. Performing that on the bar was quite okay with her. But then she told herself, listen Charmaine, you are an author and this is background preparation. Stand up to him and get to work! "I won't apologize for my part in making this happen." "Nothing's happened... yet." She liked the way he paused and then threw in the word yet pregnant with possibilities. Charmaine almost panicked when the word 'pregnant' dropped into her mind. She knew she was still on the pill. Not a worry. "Well nothing might happen," she sighed and signaled a waitress. "Let's go to our table and I'll tell all." "This sounds fascinating," he laughed, a little thinly. Charmaine followed the waitress, rolling a little on her high heels to induce a little more hip sway to perhaps increase her attractiveness to him. Although she was forty-two she still possessed a great figure and spent money to keep it looking great and had had work done on her face and thighs. "I mentioned to you I'm a novelist," she said, after the wine had been poured. "Yes and I said my wife reads you." "And I said an affair could jazz up the way I think in plotting a story." "Yes you said something like that." "Well being a creative person my thinking has advanced creatively. I now wish to have a really robust affair with you, perhaps leading up to that slowly, and documenting our times together and incorporating that into a work of non fiction." "What!" "Steady. You ought to hear me out." "Go on," he said, nostrils flaring a little. She thought he really was quite handsome. "I would not write anything that identifies you in any way. I would talk to you about your sexual experiences, excluding those with your wife in case they could be tell-tale. Your thoughts would be important to me as a writer and things you could remember women saying to you. They don't have to be direct quotes." "I see." "You are nervous about this I assume?" "Damn right. What do I get out of this?" "My body." "What?" he asked like she'd stolen something from him. Charmaine lost her patience. "All right, either my approach about this is faulty or you are not of generous spirit. Let's have a lovely lunch together, we split the bill and then split never to talk to one another again." "No." "And why not?" she said a little coldly. "Because your original offer was more appealing. Perhaps this hiccup is due to my approach being faulty and unintentionally I sounded mercenary." Charmaine allowed her astonishment to show. "There is no need to be surprised. I take it these are exploratory talks?" She breathed, "Yes indeed." "Well it did seem my body was being regarded as a commodity." She ran her tongue over her top lip. "What to be ravaged for my publishing desires?" "Something like that," he grinned. "There was no indication what I would receive in return." "A damn good, time, damn good conversations and damn good fucking I should think." Earl smiled and reached under the table and patted her knee. "Calm down. We are on the same side aren't we?" Charmaine forced a smile. "Well said." "I'm in advertising and most early conversations I have with clients or client's agents are almost exactly what we have here... trading negotiations. I have a specialist talent with support people backing me and the client has needs and accepts they will be expensive to fulfill." "I see." "I believe you do. So will you accept I don't want money for fulfilling your client needs. I wish to be fulfilled emotionally and as we build sexual connection your input comes from your heart rather than delivered with your mind closed off and pen and notebook in your hand." Charmaine said very carefully, "So my understanding is you wish me to love you but to love you not quite enough to want to take you from your wife?" Earl's hazel eyes widened: "You do think creatively and express yourself clearly although I guess I ought to have known that because you are an author." Charmaine's Meaningful Affair "Sometimes things are important enough to require verification." He grinned. "Well said." "I'm forty-two with two teenagers and a husband I have no wish to leave." Earl said, "I'm your junior because I'm only forty with three children, all under ten, who keep my wife on the run and currently she has lost interest in sex." "Perhaps she's over-worked?" "I provide her with home help for five hours a day, seven days a week. I too have no wish to leave my family for another woman." "So we have this unwritten contract sorted?" "Yes, I'll contribute fully to your project with the promise my total privacy is guaranteed." "That I promise. Thank you. When can we begin... er the sex?" "Every Wednesday evening if you wish. My parents who now live on the coast keep a small apartment here in the city. I have set it up as an office and for some five years I've stayed there every Wednesday night, often working late. But while you are in my life I can adjust my workload." "No I'm sorry Earl but that wouldn't work for me. I wouldn't like my husband thinking Wednesday evening is my away fuck night." "I see because in his position I wouldn't like it either. Then what about an afternoon, say 1:00 to 3:00? I often have two or even three-hour lunches with clients or when attempting to win over a prospective client." "Yes, that would be fine," Charmaine said. "Also I could go away with you to conventions... I guess you go to those?" "Yes usually three times a year." "If you took me you could book into a non-convention hotel and then you wouldn't have to explain me to your pals." "No it would be okay. Many don't take their spouses so spouses who attend regularly become used to seeing guys accompanied by different women and generally accept it's wise to keep their mouths shut. Also they know if they try they might get lucky." "How very decadent." "Indeed." Standing outside the restaurant Earl said, "Well?" "Next Tuesday afternoon would suit me. You can come to my apartment if you wish." "No my parents' apartment is best. Many of the apartments in that building have been converted into commercial units so no eyebrows will be raised within that building." "Earl, I haven't..." "I've only had three affairs myself. It's never easy but it has all the comforts of proper sex and is far preferable to a quickie out in the car lot." "I've never engaged in one of those." "Oh." Charmaine faltered even further. "We mightn't hit it off." "Sweetie, relax. We won't know the answer to that one until we plow for the first time." "Plow, I thought..." "What I meant to say was until we have delightful sex." Charmaine smiled and patted his arm and said she liked the sound of that. CHAPTER 2 Charmaine was aware of slight tension between Douglas and her. She knew he'd be fretting about her being with someone else, wondering if she'd started the affair. She'd noticed a decline in his performance in bed and wondered had his mistress noticed sub-par libido. If she knew the woman's identity she'd be tempted to call her to exchange notes. Yeah? She'd be more tempted to cut out the bitch's ovaries. Charmaine clutched her chest, her breathing picking up. God how could a nice person like her even think in that manner. Being a writer? Um yes, that was reasonably plausible. On Tuesday it was raining as Charmaine entered the apartment building. Everyone should be home on a rainy afternoon fucking. If people did that they wouldn't be depressed by rain, she reasoned. She hit the doorbell confidently and then felt herself shaking. God what was there to be afraid about in fucking a man, especially when it was for research? * * * Earl had been waiting anxiously. He put on his best smile and opened the door. Charmaine choked, "Take me to the bedroom and kiss me passionately." They did that and Earl cautioned, "Charmaine, slow down. You'll have me ejaculating too early." She appeared deaf and yanked her top off and removed her bra at breathtaking speed and pulled Earl's hands on to her boobs and that made him breathless. Never had he been up close to a pair of bared beauties like these and so f-i-r-m. His wife had soft tits and wore padded bras. God what was Charmaine doing. She swore foully when she failed to unbuckle him in one hit so had yanked down his zip and was digging it out, the erection growing in her hand. She appeared disappointed and his head hung in shame. The bitch said, "I suppose this will do. My husband is hung like a pony." Earl stuttered, "It's h-how it's used that c-counts." "Oh yeah, I hope you are right about that. At least you have big balls." He had big balls? Earl thought no one had ever told him that. She pulled his dick twice and it squirted over her tits. Earl groaned in embarrassment and was told not to be silly. Charmaine said at least thirty percent of men fired early when being handled by a new woman for the first time. "Kinsey?" "No my girlfriends on ladies' night out agreed on that." Earl finished undressing her, tossed her on to the bed and Charmaine helped him get it in and they were away. They finished unevenly, their climaxes a minute apart. Drinking coffee after they'd cleaned up Earl said, "Well what did you think?" "It was lousy. We went at it like two unrehearsed teenagers. We went at it hardnosed as if expected to end in crescendo." "Yeah, we were too eager and were expecting much too much." Charmaine said that was an accurate assessment. "In other words we goofed." "Is there any hope for us?" "I should think so Earl. We both ought to know how to fuck. We just have to approach it slowly, relaxed and with grace and engage in petting and move into more direct foreplay. Perhaps we ought to start with a couple of drinks first." "Yeah, like embarking on a real fuck." "What had we just been doing?" He smiled. "Providing you with research material. Along the way we forget what fucking was about. We goofed." She giggled and agreed. * * * Six weeks later Douglas asked, "This affair you proposed having. I've noticed no change in you and you remain agreeable to fuck when I tap your hip." "Well you are my husband. By mutual agreement the guy and I ended our affair two days ago. I have all the information I require. I spend today planning my new book. I was going to cook dinner but we can have sex and go out instead if you wish." "What have sex this early?" "I wasn't aware it was time-linked." "Er, it's not. I lack your sense of adventure don't I?" "Well you are an attorney." Douglas grinned. "Let's get your tits out for a lick baby and we'll fall into a sixty-nine and then see where the mood takes us. I've always loved it when you ride me Cowgirl and I see your tits lifting up and down." "Douglas, you've never told me that." "Well as you say, I'm only an attorney," he grinned. She knew he was happy to have been told the affair was over. * * * Three months later Mary-Anne Marshall of Women's Night Reading Publishing Inc reacted in surprise. "I'd almost forgotten about you." "Yeah well lunch, usual place?" "Well we have VIPs visiting and will be taking them to lunch. So sorry." "M-A. I want lunch with you to hand over my manuscript." "Ah, so you've finished. I had warned you..." "I believe I've punched through the barrier and had consummated my potential." "You've what? Ohmigod, you are always pessimistic about your final draft?" "Well not this time." "Right, I'm lunching with you. Let's see if you've earned your place as my protégé." Mary-Anne walked into Mrs White's office. "Oh hi Mary-Anne, I was about to call you. The Italian delegation has found we only do romance so has cancelled. I'll still take you to lunch if you wish." "No Marion. I'm off to see Charmaine Ross." "Charmaine -- is she still in our stable of authors? My impression was she'd written herself out." "She just called me. She has a ms for me and in her words says she believes she's broken through." "Ohmigod she's usually pessimistic about her work." "Yes." "I don't recall seeing a submission." "There wasn't one because it's not romance." The publisher snorted, "Mary-Anne, you know we only publish romance." "Perhaps you ought to come to lunch with us. It's fact-fiction and the working title is 'How to Manage Adultery." Marion's change of expression was interesting to watch. "Christ... that's potentially a handbook for every woman and perhaps guys could be interested." "Indeed." "Fact-fiction you say. At least that incorporates the word fiction. Yes, I'll come with you. You've always said that women has yet to really fire but can't seem to believe absolutely in herself." Charmaine looked stunning, dressed in a bright orange suit and light orange stockings. She lifted an eyebrow at the sight of Mrs White and kissed Mary-Anne and said hi. "You will remember Marion White, your publisher." "Yes of course. Hi Mrs White." Marion moved right in and kissed Charmaine. "You are looking beautiful dear. We really must update our photo of you." "I don't understand." "Mary-Anne told me your believe you have broken through." "Yes, well um that was supposed to be a personal comment between friends." "It was time to tell Marion, time to strike," Mary-Anne said unabashed. "Already she accepts we might be able to squeeze through a book in a category that includes the word fiction." "So I don't have to go to another publisher Mrs White." "God no, at least no unless we reject it. Please call me Marion dear." "I want it published in both hard-cover and paperback Marion." "No problem if warranted. How can you be sure it's that good?" "I put my whole heart into it and reached now heights in creativity. After re-reading it my mind tells me I've written what I set out to do... to write a best-seller." "Dear I really don't think..." "Marion," Mary-Anne said patiently. "It Charmaine says she'd done that that is what she's done. I've never met an author who normally judges her own work so sternly, but this time Charmaine is without restraints and is in love with her output." "You are losing professionalism Mary-Anne," Marion said darkly. "I'll be the judge of Charmaine's submission." Charmaine dug into her hand bag and pulled out the manuscript. "Marion, why don't you take this over to that empty table and join us after reading a couple of chapters. I'll send a wine over to you." Half an hour and three wines later Marion came to the table looking a little red-cheeked. "Well?" demanded Mary-Anne. "I'll give it to be in one word: Hallelujah." "Meaning?" "I've only read eight chapters but am confident enough to say it's likely to be our biggest seller several times over." Mary-Anne said excitedly, "What do you think of that Charmaine?" "Oh I thought she'd say something like that." * * * Charmaine called Earl at his office. "Hi, missing me?" He grouched, "Yes, calling it a day wasn't a good idea." "Well we have families to care about although after what we've done that might sound cynical." "That's true." "My publisher has given me an advance, really to secure the rights because I'd pointed our my contract with her had not been renewed. I want you to have it as a reward for your contribution. It would have been impossible for me to have written about the male point of view without those hours and hours talking to you." "Well okay. What about taking half? You did all the work." "I will be awash with royalties." "Says who?" "My publisher is confident it will sell really well. If you don't want the money give it to your wife or buy something for your wife and children with it." "Is it enough to make that worthwhile?" "Yes. Well I must go. We had agreed not to communicate but I had to be sure you wouldn't return my check." "No you want to give it to me so that's fine." The next day a courier delivered an envelop to Earl. He smiled as he drew out the check and his mouth fell open when reading the check was for $50,000. * * * Charmaine had a meeting with the Marion, Mary-Anne and a graphic artist. "No that's too complicated and looks too commercial," Charmaine said. "I want it kept simple, allowing the message to tell the story." "Like what?" demanded the artist. "Well try this: Charmaine Ross' cutting edge guide, 'How to Manage Adultery'." The guy looked interested. "Across that poster you superimpose a ghosted profile of my face and torso." "Torso?" "Perhaps I should have said breasts." He licked his lips and looked at the boss. Mrs White said, "Your heard Rickie. Do it." The three women continued their meeting. Marion White pushed an A4 page across to Charmaine. "Here's a summary of comments from our reader's test review panel." Charmaine read the selected comments and tingled in delight: 'Stunning.' 'Truly I couldn't put it down.' 'It delivers what every woman wanted to know but there was no one to ask.' 'Riveting.' 'I've just read a runaway best seller.' Charmaine was delightful and thought her affair that provided the foundation for her greatest book was one of the most meaningful things she'd ever done. She wasn't to know the opposite could be considered true. The advance poster as created by Charmaine was sent out to book sellers the day review books were dispatched and a week after that the first books were shipped to book stores that had placed forward orders. The impact was immediate with the first reviews into print adopting more or less an identical bottom line -- 'a book that every naughty adult woman will cherish'. A couple of usually outspoken clergymen immediately ranted to newspapers and other people worried about lax morality jumped on to bandwagons. Charmaine was briefly interviewed on two networks on the same night and when newspaper interviews were published next morning she became immediately famous or infamous, depending on one's viewpoint. Daughter Grace called her to offer congratulations and husband Douglas was worried... "Charmaine, I have a bad feeling about this." "Rubbish -- you read my second draft and said it was legally safe and the publisher's attorney was of the same opinion. The public won't think I'm morally decadent writing such a book because a quarter of all romance novels published have hotter descriptions of sex than I wrote about." "I hear what you say and agree on the points you make, individually. But collectively it might not be such a good look." A week later, with book sales soaring, Charmaine was being broiled in controversy. She was appearing on TV panels defending her right to publish such a book designed to influence women. At a women's group meeting where she was grilled by a panel she had eggs thrown at her, and missing, and was jostled when leaving the meeting and slapped by a woman. That slapping photo appeared on page three of a newspaper next morning. Grace called crying, saying she'd been boasting about her mom's rise to fame and now some of the girls were giving her a hard time. Charmaine called the school principal who was delighted to be speaking to famous author Charmaine Ross (Miss Roberts' words) and said she would address Grace's problem. Stephen was okay because no one at his school was aware Charmaine Ross was his mom. Douglas called Charmaine and said he wouldn't be home that night because something had come up. He called next morning to say his partners were disturbed saying the growing notoriety surrounding his wife could impact on the firm. Douglas called in the afternoon to say he'd lost three of his major clients and added he wouldn't be home that evening. This distressed Charmaine and she was near-exhausted, speaking to reporters two or three times a day and speaking at women's groups. She shrugged, thinking if Douglas had a problem it was up to him to solve it. She was likely to become a millionaire within a couple of months at the rate the book was selling and it was now to be printed under license in Italy, France and Germany. To make matters worse some people, including one of the doormen of their apartment building, were snubbing her. She called Douglas to complain but his PA took the call and said Douglas did not wish to speak to her and she should not call again. Charmaine was outraged and an hour later took a call from her attorney. Judith spoke ever so nicely and said she was the bearer of sad news. "Oh god, Douglas has had a heart attack or has something happened to one of the children?" "No nothing as bad as that Charmaine but it's still serious. Douglas has advised he will be filing for divorce. The worst part is he will be entitled to claim half of your earnings as an author." "I don't care. It's Douglas I want." "We'll discuss that point later Charmaine. I take it you'd want sole custody of the children with reasonable access to them for Douglas." "No the bastard can go to hell. If he's divorcing me he can't have my children." "I hear you Charmaine but will discuss that point later, huh?" "Okay. I guess you think I'm over-reacting." "That's another point we can discuss later in smoother times." Charmaine cut the call. Grace called sounding very distressed. "Daddy's just called me to say he and you are splitting. He can't do that over a silly thing like a book you've written can he?" "If he wishes." "He wants me to live with him from now on. He's already signed up for another apartment." Charmaine, pouring herself a whisky asked, "That is very interesting." "What? What does that mean?" "My best option is to let you make up your own mind, not to influence you." "I can't believe I'm hearing this. I wanted you to say you love me dearly and don't want to lose you and to plead with me to align with you." "I've already given you my stance on this Grace. Please remain calm and be kind to me." "But I want you. Why go to daddy? He pays little attention to me. Everything that is done for me is done by you." "Whatever you say darling. Look go to Miss Roberts. I spoke to her earlier about some of the girls ganging up on you. You will find her sympathetic. If you wish tell her what you just told me and how I replied. She may provide some guidance to you. You are seventeen darling and ought to be capable of making your decisions on this like an adult." "Will you come for me if this gets out of control in my head and I ask you to come for me?" "Of course darling." "This must be horrible for you too mom." "Ah, I hear my near-adult daughter talking. Although I get emotional I am tough darling. This is unlikely to keep me down for long." Charmaine poured a huge whisky and went off to the bath. She thought she could drink it quickly and then slide under the water to test her courage or to succumb as a coward. As the bath filled she thought it was excellent whisky. She rarely drank hard spirits. Her mind took over. Charmaine predicted what would happen. After talking to Miss Roberts, Grace would call and say, 'Mom I'll want to live with you when I'm not at school and on breaks at college. I'll see daddy if he wants to see me but I want you to be my primary caregiver and for you to love me and to accept my love in return. I feel I belong to you more than I do to daddy. I just can't help the way I feel.' Stephen would say, 'Yeah mom, I understand what's going on. You do everything for me and not daddy. You'll still take me on good vacations and keep up the supply of spending money won't you? Oh yeah, and allow me to bring pals home?' Her mother would say, 'I never did like Douglas darling. Too serious and full of his own perceived importance.' Charmaine smiled. 'Whatever your mother says is good enough for me,' her father would say. 'If you find another guy and decide on a small wedding I guess I'll pay for a small wedding, small mind you.' Charmaine's Meaningful Affair Earl would call and said, 'I'm sorry you are up to your neck in shit. I did warn you. I feel obliged to stick with my wife and kids. Sorry. But if you'd like a length now and again give me a call and I'll think about it. You fuck pretty well actually.' Douglas would say at the meeting with attorneys: 'Let's agree on the value of our joint assets and split down the middle. The kids have decided to go with you. You sign an agreement you will be their sole provider and I will sign a statement renouncing my right to claim any of your independent income.' She would say, 'Thank you Douglas. That is very honorable of you. I'm glad your old clients came back to you after reading in the Sunday papers you were divorcing me because your found my attitudes towards adultery were totally reprehensible making you an unfit person to associate with.' Swishing the bathwater Charmaine to begin thinking about her next book. She was horrified... her mind was blank. CHAPTER 3 Charmaine waited, fingers mentally crossed for Grace to call, hoping school principal Miss Roberts would have come through for Grace. The first call was a wrong number, giving Charmaine a real taste of stress. The second was Grace. She sounded exhausted. "Darling, I'm so, so sorry," Charmaine said, well aware that her commitment to her book had cost her marriage but worst still had split the family. She could have written about field mice. "Don't be. Daddy is the one at fault. What he's doing is his choice. Didn't he possess the courage to stand up for us?" Bewildered all Charmaine could say was, "What?" "Miss Roberts didn't say that to me but she counseled me in such a way so I decided to think like that." What? Since when did Grace learn the meaning of a word like counseling? Her thin, mousy-haired daughter should be feeling cut off at the knees, wanting her mother to come and take her away from school where it had become hell for her. "After Miss Roberts and I talked she served coffee and cakes for six and called in my five best friends and left us. My friends said Miss Roberts said nothing to them at all beyond the words, 'Grace needs you'. I told my friends what was happening. They were disgusted at what is happening to you and the loss of my father and we locked hands and swore we'd stand by each other now and for eternity." "I-I am very glad for you. I'll come for you in the m-morning," Charmaine said, fighting back tears, feeling relief flowing. "Whatever for?" "You need me." "What? Don't you think the boot's on the other foot mother?" Charmaine shook. Christ here was her daughter sounding stronger than she was, a kid of seventeen. "No I'm fine. I carry stress well but it will relieve me to hear you talking to me in this manner." "It's easy for me mother. It's called growing up." "Did Miss Roberts tell you that?" "In a manner of speaking. All she said was it was my chance to stand up. Perhaps it had arrived early but I was faced with hearing the call and what I did with it would be my choice and I should think very carefully. I think I fully understood what she meant, sort of." Grace sniffed and said, "I heard on the arts program on radio while waiting to see Miss Roberts that your book that is being described as a runaway success has already passed one million in sales including confirmed sales awaiting new stocks to arrive. Your publisher has contracted four other printing plants to output copies. Mommy I am so very, very proud of you. I don't care a damn what's in the book. You've done what you wanted to do and have exceeded your ultimate goal." Mother and daughter burst into tears. When the call ended Charmaine thought about that call, a phone call she'd remember for the rest of her life. She then thought of her big girl listening to an arts program on radio. What was happening here? Young people were supposed to listen to awful music in their search to be the vanguard of a new music cult. Half an hour later, feeling hungry but with no food in the kitchen that appealed to her Charmaine thought fleetingly she wished she had friends, er real friends like Grace. Minutes later she opened the door to a knock and it unfolded before her like fiction. In barged her best friend from college Claudia, holding her unexpected late baby Sam of eight months in a sling against her belly and hauling a big travel bag on wheels. "Claudia!" "Charmaine," screamed back Claudia and wee Sam was not at all upset. Well he would be used to his outrageous mother screaming at times, wouldn't he? "I've come to be with you. You must be going through hell." Charmaine reeled and began a free release of tears. Miss Claudy had come almost 3000 miles to be with her in case there was need. The two adults and sleeping Sam arrived back from the restaurant to find (to their knowledge) the only two committed lesbians of their college friends, Paula and Di-Di (Dorothy), asleep against the apartment door, weary after their 600-mile drive. Three days later the three visiting friends, those true friends, felt confident enough to return to their homes, leaving Charmaine to get her life back. Other people were dropping in or phoning, men as well as women. Di-Di had been with Charlie (Charmaine) when the alcoholic-looking elderly doorman had stopped them and apologized for his arrogant behavior and turning away from Mrs Ross (his words). "Thank you Billy." "Why didn't you report me; you had every right?" "Even as a doorman Billy you have every right to show your disrespect." "I know more about it now Mrs Ross. There are people against you and people for you and I have decided I took the wrong side. Just look at this." Billy held up the morning newspaper. The book critic that Charmaine always delighted in reading, Patti Romano, had written a story that had been elevated to page three: 'Please Accept Our City's Greatest Writer is Charmaine Ross.' Under that screaming headline was a photo of Charmaine under a hair dryer and having her nails done. "Oh god what a photo to use," Di-Di screamed in laughter. "It shows me as an ordinary person rather than some witch," Charmaine said with insight. It was a great fun photo, taken by Mary-Anne two years ago when Charmaine had accompanied her to a book fair in Vancouver, Canada. Charmaine realized Mary-Anne had taken that photo to Patti and they had discussed what was happening to Charmaine. Mary-Anne had been calling Charmaine each morning since the crisis first flared but had not mentioned she had been speaking to Patti. On the way out shopping Charmaine stopped and brought flowers to be couriered to Mary-Anne with the card just stating, 'Charmaine'. That was a break-through Charmaine had hoped for but not of the dimension required. Now hope of that coming was fading because the controversy was running out of steam, leaving her with a marred reputation. But again, just like good fiction, that came. Charmaine could be excused for thinking someone must be watching over her. "Hi it's Amanda Reeves speaking Miss Ross. I'm director of the National Press Club. I'm aware you have been going through difficult times but I have been deluged with requests from members for you to be invited to address the next Press Club luncheon. The currently booked speaker has agreed to stand aside if you accept because he happens to have read your book to his wife at nights and is disgusted with the way you are being treated." "Well why not? I would consider that a great honor." "Then you know how it works?" "Yes I believe so. I am given thirty minutes to address the club and then follows a question time of up to thirty minutes that can be a real roasting of the speaker." "Yes, exactly. I'm taping this conversation: Do you accept and may I provide air tickets and an overnight accommodation voucher?" "Please do. My mind is already searching for a theme to slam my stupid critics." "Oh Miss Ross, will you authorize me to use that line to publicize your appearance?" "Please do." The appearance of Charmaine Ross at the National Press Club was a sensation. The response for seats was such it had to be switched to a larger venue and even that was widely reported in the media. She appeared on stage in a flaming red dress with horns in her hair and carrying a three-pronged spear. "Good afternoon. As Charmaine Ross, author, this is how some critics of my latest book see me, apparently as Mrs Devil attempting to destroy the foundations of moral society as we know it. Could one of you kind gentlemen unzip the back of my dress and take my horns and spear?" Four guys leapt to the rostrum, jostling one another to be first to reach the zip. The audience watched spellbound. The dress came off and Charmaine straightened her outfit and picked up her tennis racquet. "My children grew up used to me in this outfit and being coached in tennis by me and my parents and their father who is divorcing me over my audacity to write a book on adultery often attended social tennis tournaments and watched me enjoy occasional success. For some strange reason they regarded me as just an ordinary mom without vices, at least none of which they were aware." "Funny that. My real friends have been shocked that I was being vilified for writing a book giving advice how to manage an adulterous affair. Further I don't deny I took in a lover to provide a real-time study case to assist my accumulated thoughts and research in libraries about adultery." "I must point out I don't have bigots for friends. They appeared bewildered that I had generated this antagonistic reaction that became so personal. Even I was surprised although aware I wasn't quite having a cook book published." "My friends gathered around me, one of the first -- a great friend from college -- coming almost three thousand miles to be at my side. She is very happily married to the same guy she went to the altar with thirteen years ago and brought her eight-month old baby with her. She'd read about the controversy, as had her husband. He said to her go, I'd value her company. Neither of them could understand what the fuss was about. My friend said to me over drinks one night, we have handbooks on everything. All I was doing was filling a gap. Perhaps a naïve comment but then aren't most of us a little naïve?" "Then my amazing daughter who until this crisis arose I believe I was still guilty of regarding her as a child, although she's now seventeen, discussed her uncertainty about this matter with her very sensible school principal. That wonderful woman apparently explained the issues but did not tell my daughter what to do or think. No doubt the school principal was aware she was talking to a senior student on the cusp of becoming a young adult. My daughter said something to me that I shall remember for the rest of my life and I feel I'll always be able to quote it verbatim for as long as my memory remains with me. She said: "Mommy I am so very, very proud of you. I don't care a damn what's in the book. You've done what you wanted to do and have exceeded your ultimate goal." "God that was so true and I'd not managed to simplify it to that degree. It told me girl, you've been sideline by a petty issue, get on with your life. And that's what I did and why today I have walked into this lions' den." "You know folk, I fell into despair and had almost forgotten that we have free speech in this country and cherish that freedom. I regret being beaten down because until now I've never been a loser but I have regained my dignity and my freedom to write what I wish and to express myself how I wish. Bigots can go to hell!" Charmaine's audience exploded and a standing ovation forced her to stop speaking. She began wiping away tears and photographers rushed up to capture that shot. When Charmaine resumed speaking she showed steel. "Those of you here to vilify me during question time may be disappointed because I'll not bend my back and I'll not show remorse. Perhaps you will force tears but that's only because I'm an emotional female but I'm proud of that side to me. I understand what is meant by the sanctity of marriage but point out it is simply a belief that one has the freedom to subscribe to or reject in any way they wish. My book is not for those people simply because they don't need to know how to manage adultery. But I'd like to think those people sheltered in their belief to that extent are capable of understanding that my advice to people who chose to commit adultery or are the innocent partner on the other side of adultery might find my book useful to them." "I must say I really think it's a good read. I enjoyed writing it, researching before I began writing and I really did have a very sexy affair to provide the reality I required. This book is costing me my marriage, but I accept that. My husband had read the second draft and approved of it and described it as wonderfully interesting. But he's in business and clients began walking away from him so he chose his business interests over me. I now accept that. Had I known what was a possibility I would not have written this book and whose loss would that have been? I no longer feel sadden by my divorce now in progress although I feel responsible for the impact this is having on my two children. So far my younger son has been shielded from all this but that won't last." "Well perhaps I'll marry again and my children will say to me privately one day, Mom, we like this new guy of yours. We can but dream. Thank you." Charmaine was hugely applauded and the club president, Joanne J. Wellings, a recently returned and retired international war and 'hot spot' correspondent came up to Charmaine and kissed her on both cheeks. "Well you guys," said Joanne, "This is a record attendance for our club and I wonder why? I suspect it's because this charming woman decided to stand up and go for it, knowing she'd become a tall poppy and would attract critics, not all of them pleasant critics. I have nothing by admiration for Mrs Charmaine Ross and by god we need more women like you." "You people representing media who have slammed Charmaine Ross by publishing or broadcasting the outspoken comments of bigots might like to take a look of this photo on the big screens. It was published last week in Charmaine's hometown newspaper and was written by a literary critic Patti Romano who discussed Charmaine's plight with the woman who took that photo, Mary-Anne Marshall. As it happens Mary-Anne and I attended the same college, taking media studies and we started in journalism on the same newspaper. I had the hard eye for hard news stories and Mary-Anne had the soft-eye and she left and entered book publishing and today works as commissioning editor for Charmaine's publisher. That soft photo was aimed at opening people's minds to regard Charmaine as perhaps an ordinary female rather than some monster and the wonderful clarity of Patti's story appealed to readers to judge Charmaine for what she is rather than what they think she is by reading and listening to what other people say sums it up beautifully in my opinion. I shall not be surprised if that article is a contender for the supreme award in our national newspaper awards later this year." "I have read about Charmaine and spoken to people close to her, going right back to the courtship of her parents. I've done this because I intend writing a book that has a working title, 'The Honesty of Charmaine Ross'. This will be the first Charmaine has heard about this," Joanne said, hugging the guest speaker. "Patti Romano, Mary-Anne Marshall and I have combined to set up a Charmaine Ross Fan Club website that launches at 4:00 this afternoon. And yes it will also contain comments from individuals and groups who wish to damn Charmaine but we three sponsors of the website believe her critics will vaporize and not before too long." "Well that's enough from me. This is your opportunity to grill Charmaine. I'll extend your time to an hour if necessary. Now no soft-pedaling; this is what our club is about." The journalists represented a full spectrum of the media so the moralistic view was represented in the initial flurry of questions with hard-hitting comments. But that virtually died when newspaper doyen Sam Pilcher rose to speak. "Miss Ross. I admire you. You have guts and you really can write. Please just give me a yes or no answer. Would you expect journalists who've heard you today to not only seek to address any imbalance their publication may be guilty of about you but to find adulterers who have read your book to publish what they truly think about it?" "Yes and Mr Pilcher I feel honored to have received that question from you." "Thank you beautiful lady. I rest my case." Journalist rose to applaud Sam and thereafter the questions were mainly probes to find out more about Charmaine thought of herself as a person and where she thought her future lay. One question drew from Charmaine something she'd only been half thinking about. "Have you a working title for your next book Mrs Ross?" "Well I could almost say no, but being stimulated by this interchange here today I am deciding right now. It will be called 'How to Manage Divorce'." "And then?" someone else asked. "To complete a trilogy I should think. 'How to Find a Great New Spouse'. "Don't you mean husband?" "No sir, I have male as well as female readers that will be interested in that journey they may face or have friends faced with taking it." * * * The thoughts Charmaine that had in the bath that night, stimulated by whisky, were well on target. Well she thought logically so she hadn't been surprised. When the controversy died, as they tend to do, Douglas had lunch with her and said he wished to call off the divorce. "Do that if you wish Douglas but our marriage is finished." "Oh come on, don't be so tough on me. I reacted for economic survival." "Yes, no doubt. But you also ran when I most needed you. We can remain friends Douglas but if you withdraw divorce proceedings I will simply commence proceedings to divorce you and imagine how our divorce will drag on." "I'll give you a week to rethink." "No Douglas. Tell me your decision now." He scowled. "I'll let my application proceed." "Great, now tell me. Who are you fucking? Is it one of my friends because you have little contact with other women." "Get fucked," Douglas snarled fiercely in a whisper. "By god you are so unsuitable as a wife." "Well it's taken you a long time to come to that decision. Adios." Two women at a table nearby came over. "Excuse me," said one. "We think you are the famous author Charmaine Ross." "Yes I am. Ladies we don't you fetch your wine glasses and come and join me. I'm in the mood for lively conversation and the next bottle is on me." THE END