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The Vetting Ch. 01

By: JayDavid



This is a two-parter, which developed a little differently for me than most of my other stories. This time, I came up with the characters first, then tried to figure out a way to have them interact. The final plot only revealed itself to me after I had "finished," requiring a little editing and reshaping so that the whole thing made sense. As with most of my recent work, although there is plentiful sex, there is little description of the mechanics of it, so if that's what you are looking for, there are many fine stories on this site to satisfy your needs. 

***** 

I understand that you need me to tell you the whole story, so that nothing comes back to bite us in the ass, so I will be frank. But I have to tell it my way, from my perspective, because that's how I know it. I can't tell you what was going through anyone else's mind, or speculate on anyone else's motives, but I will tell you what was going on in my mind, and what my motives were. As you have requested, I will tell you the details, for the most part, because there are some specifics that you don't need. But under the circumstances, my incentive is to tell you all, and let you decide what is important. 

Some people say that everything happens for a reason, but I think that is bullshit, and I think that this situation is proof of that, don't you think? Things happen, and then other things happen, and sometimes, through hard work or dumb luck or some combination of the two, things work out well. Or poorly. Or sometimes both, even at the same time. There are probably as many people who were dealt a great hand who ended up miserable as there are people who had nothing and ended up with everything. The world is a series of random events, and while people can have some effect on their own lives, sometimes the effects are unintended. And sometimes your actions are influenced or interfered with by the powerful actions of others. Or the random actions of others. 

Which is not to say that you shouldn't try. To the contrary, you should try like a son of a bitch to lead your life to the place that you want to go, even if you don't know where you want to end up. Because even if things don't always work out the way you want, you always end up somewhere, right? 

I should start by telling you a bit about my background, although I'm sure you already know most of the details. I had as good a childhood as you could have wanted. My great grandfather started the family business as a small, local operation, and his two sons, my grandfather and great uncle, expanded it some. My father took over the business when grandpa died, and Great Uncle Carl's kids showed no interest. Dad bought out his cousins, and became sole owner, and turned the company, as you know, into the big success that I ultimately took over and tried not to run into the ground. 

I know, that is false modesty. We've actually done pretty well by the company. Right. Better than pretty well. But we will get there, eventually. 

So, growing up, I wanted for nothing, except maybe for a little parent time. Mom was not really a stay-at-homer. A graduate of one of the finest women's colleges on the East Coast and with an Ivy League law degree, she started in our company's law department after working at a Wall Street firm for a couple of years. She apparently didn't love New York, and thought that a smaller city would be better. As the story goes, Dad spotted her at the far end of a long conference table in a big meeting, asked her opinion about something, and was impressed when she disagreed with the general counsel, her boss. Now, it turned out that she was only half right, but Dad was intrigued, he said, by her thought process and courage. It also must have helped that she was gorgeous, if that is not weird for a son to say. 

Even after they were married, and she was technically off the payroll, Dad considered her his top advisor, and she regularly attended meetings all over the world with him, and had a small office at headquarters. And woe be it to anyone who thought that she was just decorative eye-candy. Dad told me that we once lost a big Chilean deal when Mom verbally eviscerated a top executive who condescended to her. And she did it in Spanish, using local slang. 

But I digress. I was far from ignored by my parents, and they were there for almost every important event or game in my life, even if they flew in right before, and out right after. Growing up, I was a friendly, popular kid, and, as you know, I was a very good athlete. In high school, I was the football team's star wide receiver, gaining All-State and honorable mention All-American recognition. I was my parents' child, so I also did well in school, although not as well, I think, as Mom hoped. I played a couple of musical instruments pretty proficiently, so you could say that I was well rounded. 

All of this meant, too, that I was popular with the girls. I've been told that I'm nice looking, I always had money, thanks to my generous parents, and I never wanted for female companionship through high school. I lost my virginity freshman year, to a junior girl who I had been dating, after the junior ball, and honestly, after that, I dated—in a serially monogamous way—a number of very attractive and often sexually adventurous girls, who I learned a great deal from. I'd like to think that all of them had good experiences with me, and I always tried to end relationships on a good note, although I know it didn't always happen. 

I'm not sure why I'm telling you that, but I guess it is all a preface to my college experiences, because that is where the randomness begins to get interesting. 

I had been recruited by a number of colleges to play football, and although we didn't need the scholarships, it was flattering to have them offered. I was also gently recruited by a few Ivies, which was also flattering, but I decided that I wanted to test my football skills against the best competition that I could, while not ignoring my intellectual development. So, I narrowed my choices down to two. But the day that I was supposed to visit the first school, there was a freak snow storm which dropped a foot and a half of snow, and they postponed the trip until after I visited what turned out to be my alma mater. 

When I showed up at the school for my official visit, I was surprised at how many of the other players came with their parents. Mine were in Hong Kong, or maybe Singapore—the details are a bit fuzzy now. It was an interesting mix of street smart kids, country boys and suburban guys like me, and everyone was sizing each other up. We all knew who was seriously good, and who was just good, and we dutifully took the tours of the academic buildings, dorms, and, finally, the athletic buildings and the stadium, which was pretty impressive, even with only empty seats. 

The coaches spoke to us in coach-talk, sounding impressive without really saying anything other than "we brought you here because we want you to come here." Overall, it was what I expected, and better in most ways than my first visit. 

After the coaches' talk, we were told that we were free to explore the campus on our own, and that they would have a student assigned to show us around. At which point the coaches hit the road, and the doors opened to admit a group of what had to be some of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen in one place. They were every shade possible, from dark, dark black to fair and blonde, but every one of them was shockingly beautiful. It sort of seemed that the girls had been told what guys to go for, and in retrospect, it was pretty obvious. Black girls for black guys, Hispanic girls for the Hispanic guys and white girls for the white guys. There were no Asian guys, but a couple of stunning Asian girls were mingling with the white guys. 

I was watching this all unfold, and it took me a second to realize that no hot girl was talking to me, and when I did, I looked around and saw her. 

She was not the most classically beautiful girl in the room, but she was the most formidable looking. Tall, with dark wavy hair that cascaded, but in a well-tended way, over her shoulders and down her back. Perfect makeup, dark eyes, olive skin and a body that was, well, extraordinary. And unlike most of the others in the room, who were in tight jeans, or shorts, with body-hugging shirts or bikini tops, she was wearing a dress which accentuated her curves, but without looking sleazy, and heels high enough to be impressive without looking dangerous. The only thing that might have detracted from her looks was a strong Roman nose, but somehow it gave her face character and made it interesting. She was looking at me, with an enigmatic smile, and when she caught my eye, she stepped forward, reached out her hand and said, "Anna Marie Raspoli. You must be Justin Osland." 

As I mentioned, I'm not afraid of women, and even then, I was pretty glib, but there was something about Anna Marie Raspoli that was intimidating, and I didn't respond right away. She seemed to smile at my inability to form words, but it didn't seem condescending at all. No, it really seemed like tongue-tied men was something that she was used to experiencing, and she was just amused that it was happening again. But, after a few seconds, I was able to gather my wits somewhat and respond. "Yeah, that's me, Justin." I was still holding her hand after giving it a shake, awkwardly, but she tightened her grip and started leading me toward the door. 

Walking through the crowd, I could see that some of my fellow recruits were already groping their "hostesses," and others were talking and flirting. So, when this incredible woman was leading me toward the door, I assumed that we were going somewhere to be alone. We stepped outside and walked through the campus. It was twilight, and the grounds were filled with students, walking, talking, carrying books and the like. Still holding my hand, Anna Marie Raspoli led me through a quad, then up a long flight of stairs to the top of a small hill. There was a bench at the top, and a guy and a girl were there, holding hands and looking out over the campus. It was a pretty incredible view, actually, but it was weird standing there, holding hands with a strange, beautiful woman, while another couple sat there on the bench. 

After a couple of seconds, Anna Marie turned to the two on the bench and said, "Excuse us, I think you need to leave." 

The guy looked at us, then stood up and stepped toward us, looking angry. 

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he fumed. 

Being a jock and all, I stepped forward to defend us, but felt Anna Marie pull me back. She looked at the guy, who was a couple of inches shorter than her in her heels and said, quietly, but in a voice with real menace, "I'm the person who has asked you nicely to leave. And I suggest you do so. Now." 

There was something in the way she carried herself, and the way she spoke that took any thought of resisting from the guy. He turned to his girlfriend and said, in a forced way, "Caitlin, I think I have to get back now, come on." He took her hand and left without looking at us again. 

She motioned to the now empty bench and said, "Justin, sit down, please." 

Of course, I did, and she sat next to me. The campus was laid out below us, and it was truly an impressive sight. Buildings old and new surrounded by grassy areas and sculpture. And the light at that hour only enhanced the beauty of the campus. I felt the breeze shift, and I got a whiff of her scent, and again, it was something more sophisticated than I would have expected from a college girl. We still hadn't exchanged more than a few words. 

"Justin, I want to make a couple of things clear," she said. "As you probably guessed, because I know you are a smart guy, I'm here to convince you to attend this esteemed institution of learning. But, unlike some of those other girls you saw today, I am not going to have sex with you as part of that process." 

I can't deny that I was disappointed, although a part of me was relieved, because she was more than a little scary. It seemed like I was supposed to listen and not talk, so I did, as she continued. 

"I don't know for sure why I was assigned to you, but my research confirmed what the coaches think, which is that you have a bit more depth than most of the other boys who are being recruited. And I can be persuasive, even with my clothing on." 

I continued to sit there quietly. There really was something about this girl that made you just shut up and listen. 

"So, here's the story, and it is pretty simple. If you come here, you will not only be playing for a good team, in one of the best conferences, with one of the best coaching staffs around, but you will be getting a top-flight education. Although if you want that education, and I suspect that you do, you will have to work harder than the average jock. We have incredible academic programs available if you choose to take advantage of them and, best of all, we have a group of alumni who will take care of you when you are done." 

I had to speak. "I know all of that, and that's why I'm here." 

"But what you didn't know before today is that if you come here, I will be here. And I am the type of friend that you want." 

I waited for a further explanation, but none was forthcoming. It was very odd. Who was Anna Marie Raspoli, I was thinking, and why would her friendship be that important? I mean, other than the fact that she was beautiful, sexy, mysterious and scary? 

She let it sink in, whatever it was, before taking my hand and leading me back down the hill. She led me back across campus, then into town, and before I knew it I was at the hotel where all the recruits were being put up. She let go of my hand and said, "I'm sure you are disappointed that my recruiting style is less overt than some others." She used her head to point to one of the other recruits entering the hotel with his arm around one of the other "hostesses," whose hair was mussed, her shirt was askew and was carrying a bottle of vodka. "So," she continued, reaching for her phone and flipping it open, "if you want, I can make a call and someone will be over to keep you company." 

I looked into her dark eyes and, without thinking, said, "No thanks. That won't be necessary." 

She smiled that smile again, put her phone away and said, "Good answer. I hope to see you in the fall, Justin." 

When I entered the lobby, I found the business center and Googled her on one of the computers. Only one article came up with her name, and I read it, and a few other articles that the first article led me to, and they explained a lot. And, although I was pretty sure I wanted to come here for college, I was more than intrigued by Anna Marie Raspoli, and that clinched the deal. 

xxxxxxxxxx 

Summer practice was as hard as I expected. It was hot, there were lots of players and lots to learn. After the first few days, I pretty much stopped making dumb mistakes, and after a couple of weeks, the coaches stopped yelling at me as much and even tossed a few grudging compliments my way. The guys on the team were pretty nice, although it pretty quickly broke down into mostly race based cliques. Not that there was tension that I saw, but in general, people gravitated to their own. I found a group of players who, like me, had an academic bent, and the upperclassmen gave me tips. I especially got help from Gage Padgett, who at that point was the sophomore backup QB, but you could tell he was talented. I spent a bunch of time working with him, running patterns and talking football. And although he was a born again Christian, and I was, at best, agnostic, we still got along great. 

By the end of training, I had survived, and was on the depth chart. There were guys with more talent than me who simply couldn't cut it at this level, because they lacked the work ethic or intelligence, and they were told to either quit the team, or better yet, transfer to a less demanding program. We were, for the most part, so tired and sore by the end of the day that it was rare that we did anything at night, and the only women that I saw worked in the cafeteria, although I did hear some female laughter a couple of nights coming from some of the seniors' rooms. 

Our first game was away, and I got in for a few snaps and on special teams. Being on the field at a major college game, with a full stadium and the crowd yelling was a rush, and it made me glad that I had made my choice, and not decided to go to a smaller school where I might have been a starter. We won, and the bus ride back to campus was a blast, until we all passed out from fatigue. I woke up as we were pulling into campus. The bus took us to the stadium, where we dragged our asses into our cars and drove to the dorms. I was bone tired and sore from a hit I took blocking on a kick return, and all I wanted to do was to take a handful of Aleve and get into bed. I was happy that my status as a football recruit got me a single room, because I wanted the quiet and the solitude. 

But apparently, that wasn't the plan. Standing in front of my door, wearing jeans and a school t-shirt that was curving in ways that should have been illegal, was Anna Marie Raspoli. She had a calm look on her face, as if she could stand there waiting for hours, and maybe she had been. 

"Nice game, Justin," she said, as if we had been talking daily. 

"Thanks. The team played well." 

"You're right. I thought that double move you made in the third quarter was impressive." 

That surprised me, almost as much as the fact that she was standing in front of my door a week before classes started. 

"You never responded to my emails or texts," I responded, getting to the point. I was exhausted and annoyed. 

"I had nothing to say," she said, her face a mask—a beautiful mask, but still not betraying anything. 

"I wanted to talk after we met that day," I said, aggravation leaking into my voice. 

She shot me a look that reminded me that she was not to be trifled with. "I didn't." 

"Why not?" 

"Because I knew what you wanted to talk about." 

"How?" And as the word escaped my lips, I realized how stupid that sounded. Of course, she knew that I would Google her, and she knew what I would find. 

Her glare cracked, and a hint of that enigmatic smile that I had memorized months ago flittered across her dark red lips. "You can be a smart boy." 

"So, why are you here?" 

She smiled fully, lighting up her face and causing a warmth to spread from my belly to my balls. "Aren't you glad to see me?" 

"I don't know." 

Her smile returned to its prior, mysterious level and she nodded. "Good answer. Invite me in?" 

I did a quick mental review of what the room looked like before I left for the road trip, and I couldn't remember any particularly embarrassing thing that I left out, so I said, "Sure." 

"You really know how to treat a lady." 

"You caught me off guard." 

"That was the plan." 

I opened the door. "It worked." 

Anna Marie Raspoli entered my small single room, took a quick look at the bare walls and piles of clothing. "I love what you've done with the place." 

"My decorator won't be available until next week. She's in Milan." 

Her head snapped around and her dark eyes bored into me. "Funny," she said, without any hint of laughter. 

What the fuck was going on? Why was she here, after ignoring me since she left me at the hotel on my recruiting trip? I was having trouble standing from a combination of fatigue and confusion. I motioned to the bed. "Want to sit? I need to." 

"So you can take advantage of me?" 

"I don't think that is possible." 

And at that, she let out a belly laugh and, for a brief moment, seemed vulnerable. But that moment passed, she composed herself. "No, thanks, but you should feel free." 


The Vetting Ch. 01



I slumped down onto the bed, which meant that my eyes were exactly at breast level, and I was transfixed. 

"Up here, Justin." 

I looked up at her dark eyes. 

"I just wanted to say hello and welcome you to campus." 

"Thanks. But I really want to know-" 

She turned and started to leave. "Maybe you aren't as smart as I thought." 

"Wait." 

But she didn't. I watched her beautiful ass as it walked out the door and watched the door close behind her. I was too tired and too mixed up to follow. Tomorrow, I'd figure it out. I rolled onto the bed and was asleep before I could process anything. 

xxxxxxxxxx 

I didn't figure anything out the next day, or the next few weeks, because Anna Marie Raspoli was nowhere to be found. The few times that I saw her, or thought I saw her, on campus, she avoided me, and she never responded to my emails, texts or messages. 

School was going well, otherwise. My classes were interesting, and my professors did cut me the occasional bit of slack with deadlines when they conflicted with road trips, but I never asked for, or got, any of the "special" help that some of the other guys got. And I started to play more—not a lot, but I started to get a reputation as a good route runner and possession receiver, even if I wasn't the fastest. I thought I was making progress, despite the occasional "stinger" or other minor injury that made me have to sit out some plays. In our fifth game of the season, I scored my first touchdown, and after doing an awkward celebration, I thought I saw Ann Marie Raspoli cheering in the stands, sitting next to a gray-haired older man, and I thought she was pointing at me. But it might have been wishful thinking. 

That night, I went out with some of the guys to celebrate my first touchdown, and the fact that we were 4-1. Being underage didn't stop me from getting free beer all night, and the attention of some very pretty women. Especially a blonde named Talia, whose charms were obvious and on display. At about 1 a.m., I was leading Talia back to my room, and had every expectation that my first college fuck was about to happen when I saw Anna Marie Raspoli, again standing in front of my door, in slacks and a tight sweater, and that calm look. But this time, she wasn't alone. The older man, dressed in a blue blazer and white, button down shirt, was with her. He looked familiar. 

"Hi, Justin. Congratulations on your first score," she said, smirking. 

Talia looked at her, then me. "Is that your girlfriend?" she asked, annoyed. 

"No. Just an acquaintance." 

Anna Marie Raspoli did not look pleased. "I thought we were friends." 

"Based on what?" I responded. "Friends don't ignore each other." 

She smiled. "Friends don't pry." 

I had no witty response. Talia jumped in. "So, what's going on?" 

Before I could answer, Anna Marie Raspoli said, softly, "What's going on, sweetheart, is that you are going to say goodbye." 

Talia looked at her, then at me, as if waiting for me to come to her defense. But I realized that would be a mistake. After a couple of awkward seconds, she turned and started to leave. She looked over her shoulder at me and said, "Your loss, asshole." 

Anna Marie Raspoli looked at me and said, "Good choice. Let's take a walk." 

I was not interested. "Look, Anna Marie, I'm tired, I'm sore, and I'm drunk. How about a rain check?" 

She looked at the man, who had been standing, quietly, watching. "No. I thought that you would like the chance to meet my father, and he is leaving first thing in the morning." 

Her father? I felt myself sobering up fast. "Um, of course, let's take a walk." 

The man, Don Antonio Raspoli, reputed head of the Raspoli crime family, smiled at me, without any humor, and growled, "Good answer." 

Anna Marie Raspoli led us outside, and two very large, black-clad gentlemen who I hadn't noticed before when I was focusing on Talia's abundant cleavage, fell in behind us. She led us to a long, black limo. "Since you are so tired and sore, maybe you want to take a ride." 

As if I had a choice. I got in the limo, and Don Antonio sat across from Anna Marie and me. One of the big guys got into the driver's seat and the other got into the passenger seat. The car started to move and the partition between the front and back went up. Don Antonio reached out his hand for me to shake. "I'm Antonio Raspoli, Anna Marie's father," he said. 

"I know that, sir." 

He smiled. "Of course, you do. And don't call me 'sir.' Mr. Raspoli will do for now." 

I nodded. I had no clue what was going on, and I knew, even at that age, that the best thing to do was to keep quiet. 

Don Antonio continued. "My daughter wanted me to meet you. She says you have potential." 

Ah, now I got it. He wanted to meet a football player who scored a touchdown. "Thanks, Mr. Raspoli. I think that I really can contribute this season." 

His eyes narrowed. "I don't give a fuck about football," he growled, matter-of-factly. 

"Then what-" 

"She says that you are smart, clever and handle yourself well. That you will be successful." 

I looked at Anna Marie Raspoli. She was looking at her father, her face composed, her nose prominent. She looked like a Roman statue. 

"Um, thanks, I guess. Is there something you want from me? 

Don Antonio looked a little annoyed, but then it passed. "What makes you think I want anything from you? Or that you could have anything I want? My daughter wanted me to meet you, and I like to meet promising young people." 

This was not going well. I looked at Anna Marie and she seemed a bit disappointed. 

"I'm sorry if I insulted you, Mr. Raspoli. I would never want to do that. I'm just tired and sore and more than a little bit confused. I don't like being confused." 

He smiled. "Good answer, Justin. My advice to you, is never be confused." 

The car pulled to a stop. Don Antonio and Anna Marie had a brief conversation in rapid Italian that I could not follow. One of the big guys opened the door, and I could see that we were back in front of my dorm. 

"Good night, Mr. Raspoli. It was a pleasure meeting you." 

"Was it?" he growled. 

"Honestly, no. But it was an experience." 

He smiled briefly and nodded. I continued, "Good night, Anna Marie," and I started to climb over her to get out. 

"I'll walk you to your room," she said. 

"That's O.K." 

"No, it isn't," she responded and slid out of the car. As we walked toward the dorm, the limo rolled away. 

"Isn't that your ride?" 

"I'm not going anywhere." 

"What do you mean?" 

"What I said. I know that you were looking forward to being with that bimbo tonight, and I sent her away. I can't be responsible for your frustration—that would be rude." 

By that time we were at my door, which I opened, and Anna Marie pushed me in and simultaneously kissed me. It was a kiss that, not surprisingly, was powerful and intense. But when we broke the kiss, both panting, she pushed me away. "You keep saying that you are sore. Let me give you a massage." 

The idea was irresistible. "What should I do?" 

She rolled her eyes, which made me feel bad, because for some reason I didn't want to disappoint her. "Get undressed and get on the bed, on your stomach. You've had massages before, right?" 

So, I did. And Anna Marie Raspoli turned out to be an incredible masseuse. It was both soothing and erotic at the same time. And by the time that she finished the massage, she was also naked, and I got to see her beautiful body for the first time. Yes, we had sex that night, and it was probably the best I had until that point. She was both demanding and giving, creative and compassionate, uninhibited and tender, all at the same time. 

When I woke up the next morning, she was gone, which disappointed, but did not surprise, me. 

Later that morning, I tried calling her to politely thank her for a memorably evening, but was forced to tell that to her voice mail. And over the next week, the pattern continued—no response to electronic contact, and what appeared to be avoidance on campus. 

xxxxxxxxxx 

School and football, of course, didn't stop while I tried to figure out what either member of the Raspoli family, or Family, I guess, wanted from me. Because despite their protestations to the contrary, and Anna Marie's alternately intimate and icy responses to me, it seemed obvious that they had some interest in me. 

In our next game, due to a couple of dings to the guys above me on the depth chart, I played more. I did pretty well, but the more I played, the more I realized that I had reached my level of ability. And after a couple of hits, I had trouble getting up. Defensive backs and linebackers at this level were bigger, faster and hit much harder than anything I had seen in high school. But I was beginning to get some recognition from the coaches, and even some nice mentions in the local papers. 

I spoke with my parents regularly, and they were proud of my sports accomplishments, and also my classwork. I chose not to discuss my meeting with Don Antoino, or my relationship, such as it was, with his daughter. 

We were contending for a bowl game, and it was all hands on deck. We were back at full strength, so my playing time had been reduced, but I was still contributing on offense and special teams. But then, the forces of randomness struck. His name was Jamel Anderson, and he hit me hard. All I could remember was lying on the ground, my body aching and tingling, and having trouble moving. I remember the crowd quieting, the trainers and doctor checking me out, and being taken off the field on a stretcher. 

Obviously, as you can see, I wasn't paralyzed or anything. But after a thorough workup, the team doctor diagnosed me with spinal stenosis. It was simply a matter of bad genetics, bad luck, and too many hits. My parents had a bunch of high-priced specialists review the tests, and even flew one in to examine me. The general consensus was that I could play again if I wanted to, and that the risk of serious damage was slim. But there was a small risk of major trauma if I was hit just wrong, and the more I played, the more likely I would suffer chronic issues as I got older. 

I met with the coaches and spoke with my parents at length, and a couple of my teammates, and at the end of the day, I decided to stop playing. I knew that I wasn't going to make it to the pros, and I had proven to myself that I could compete at a very high level, if probably not the highest. So, it didn't seem worth it to me to risk paralysis, or long term chronic pain. The coaches were disappointed but not devastated, supported my decision and told me I could remain part of the team through the bowl game, and I agreed to do so. 

My situation was announced in the middle of a longer story in the school paper about the team on Thursday, and when I returned to my room after attending practice (where the coaches put me to work as essentially a coaching intern), there was Anna Marie Raspoli, again waiting outside my door. I was initially annoyed at the way that she showed up at random times, but never responded to me, then softened at the prospect of seeing her naked again and having unbelievable sex. 

As always, it seemed like she could read my mind. "Not tonight, Justin. I just want to talk." 

Again, Anna Marie Raspoli caused me mixed emotions. On the one hand, she just disappointed me on one level, while exciting me on another. Maybe this "talk" would clarify some of the many fuzzy things about our relationship. 

"Oh, sure. Want to come in?" 

"No, let's go out for a bite. My treat." 

"Let me put my stuff inside and I'll be right out." I walked past her, getting a whiff of that scent that first beguiled me on the recruiting trip, and brought to mind our one night together. I looked at her, and she smiled that half smile of hers. I went into the room, tossed my stuff on the bed, turned and left, closing the door behind me. Anna Marie grabbed my arm and led me out of the dorm, to the parking lot and into her car, a late model BMW. I've never been a big car guy, but while this probably wasn't the top of the line, it was probably far from the bottom. I got into the leather seat, buckled up and got comfortable. 

Anna Marie started the ignition, and she drove out of the lot. 

"Where are we going?" I asked. 

"Johnny's Steak House." 

"Where's that?" 

"A little out of town. My uncle is the owner." 

"So, will I meet another Raspoli tonight?" 

She looked at me, a bit peevishly, before returning her eyes to the road. "No, he's my mother's older brother. Not everyone in my family is part of my father's business." 

"No offense intended. Really." 

"Good answer, Justin. We'll talk at dinner, and you'll understand, I think." 

We rode in silence, save for the radio, which was set to a jazz station. I realized that although I knew some interesting things about this woman, there was so much that I didn't know-not even her taste in music. 

The restaurant was in an old building that had been restored beautifully, and there were a few expensive cars in the parking lot. When we entered the building, the hostess, a pretty woman a few years older than us, with the same nose as Anna Marie, hugged her and kissed her on both cheeks. 

"Justin, this is my cousin Francesca Martelli, Uncle John's daughter. She used to babysit me when I was a baby." 

"And what a beautiful baby she was," Francesca added. "Nice to meet you Justin. Follow me." 

She led us through the dining room, which was about half full with older, well dressed couples talking and smiling. At the rear of the room was a staircase, and we went up into a private dining room. A table for 2 was fully set, with flowers and candles. It looked like a place you would take someone to propose. Francesca motioned to the table and said, "Dad will be out to see you in a few minutes." She kissed Anna Marie on the cheeks and shook my hand before leaving. 

Anna Marie sat down facing the door, and I sat across from her. She looked beautiful in the candlelight. Before she could say anything, a tall, thin gray-haired man in a well-tailored suit entered the room. Anna Marie stood up, so I did, too. He said something to her in Italian, she smiled and said something back in Italian, and he hugged her. 

Indicating me, she said, "Uncle John, this is my friend Justin Osland." 

He reached for my hand, and shook it, enthusiastically. "Any friend of Anna Marie is a friend of mine," he said, in a deep voice that was surprising from a thin man. 

"Thank you, sir." We sat. 

"Nonsense, son. Call me Uncle John." 

"Um, O.K., Uncle John." 

"Bene. Now you are entitled to the family discount." He smiled. "Soup or salad?" 

"Soup, thanks." 

"Rigatoni or ravioli?" 

"Rigatoni, please." 

"Veal or fish?" 

"Veal, I guess, thanks." 

"Grazie." He turned and scurried out. 

I looked at Anna Marie and she had that smile on her face. 

"He didn't ask you what you wanted." 

"He knows." 

"Of course. I should have known." 

"Yes." 

The door opened again, and a waiter came in with a large bottle of wine. He showed it to Anna Marie, who nodded, then to me. I also nodded, although I knew nothing about wine. He poured me a taste, and it was probably the best wine I had ever had. Although my parents let me drink wine with dinner occasionally, this was richer and had a deeper flavor than anything they ever had. 

"Delicious," I said, and the waiter filled both our glasses before leaving. 

"I'm not 21, you know." 

"Sssh—anyway, you're family." She smiled. 

"What is this?" I asked. 

"It is a Barolo, a fine Italian wine. This is from a vineyard owned by Uncle John's family. This is the only restaurant in the States that has it. If we didn't get the 'family discount,' it would cost around $500 a bottle." 

I took another sip, and waited. 

"You're waiting for me, right?" 

"I am. I mean, I appreciate the dinner and all, but you said you wanted to talk." 

"What about the company?" 

"Of course, I appreciate the company. What man wouldn't?" 

"Good answer," she said, smiling a full smile. She composed herself and said, "First, let me say that I'm sorry that you won't be playing football anymore." 

"Thanks, but I'm O.K. with that." 

"I know. But you'll miss it." 

"I will. But it was the right call." 

"Agreed. You understand that I was not interested in you because of football, even though that is how we met." 

"I have no idea why you are interested in me, but so far I'm not complaining." 

Her eyes narrowed. "So far?" 

"Yes. Look, Anna Marie, you are beautiful, interesting, are amazing in bed and appear to be able to get good meals," I waved my hands to indicate the restaurant. "But you are also infuriatingly opaque, are controlling, don't respond to my calls or emails. And then—" 

"And then there's my father." 

"And then there's your father, and what he supposedly is. And it worries me." 

"Don't be." 

"That's easy for you to say." 

She paused, and for a second I thought I saw a crack in her façade. "Not as easy as you seem to think." And just that quickly, it was gone. She picked up her wineglass and took a long drink. 

"Sorry." 

At that point a waiter came in with two minestrone soups. He offered pepper and Parmesan cheese, and I followed Anna Marie's lead in declining the first, and taking the second. After he left, I took a spoonful of soup. "This is incredible." 

"Yes. After dinner, I'll introduce you to my cousin Lorenzo—he's the chef." 

I waited, and she smiled before continuing. "Let me start at the beginning. What you have heard about my family used to be very true, now less so. My great, great grandfather Paulo came to America penniless and worked his way up to being a prominent man, maybe notorious would be a better word. His son, my great grandfather Bernardo, took over the family business and expanded it into new areas, some pretty unsavory, I have to admit. My Grandpa Vincenzo consolidated the family's power, but when Papa took over he decided to try to move into legitimate businesses, and the process is ongoing." 

During this time, I kept eating the delicious soup, and Anna Marie occasionally paused to savor a spoonful. 

She continued. "This restaurant was one of those legitimate businesses. Uncle John initially refused to take money from Papa—his side of the family was always against Mama's marriage because of the Raspoli name and reputation. But my father made it clear—he would invest in the business, but not interfere. And for 25 years, that is how it has been. Uncle John and Aunt Rita, and their kids, have made this restaurant a quiet success, and 5 years ago, they paid Papa back, with interest." 

"Good for them," I said. 

Anna Marie nodded. "Good for them. I know my father wanted to bring my older brother Massimo into the business, to keep the process of legitimizing the family going, but honestly, Massimo is a charming buffoon, and I say that with love, because he is a great brother. But Papa knew that he wasn't the heir he needed. I am." 

"I have no doubt about that," I said, mopping up the last of my soup with a piece of crusty Italian bread. 

"But you should know, I've told my father that I have no interest in anything illegal. None." She made a chopping motion with her hand. "And that if he wanted me to take over the business, it had to be all above board. He agreed." 

A busboy came in and took away our soup bowls and spoons and reset the silverware for dinner. Anna Marie was quiet until he left. 

"So, Papa and his associates are actually doing it. They are trading illegal businesses for legal ones, and by the time I finish business school, the transformation should be complete." 

"That's great, but why are you telling me this?" 




The Vetting Ch. 01



Again, that half smile. "When I came to college here, I guess there was something about me that the athletic department approached me to help recruit players—" 

I laughed. "Something about you? How about everything about you?" 

She smiled. "I agreed to help out, under the condition that I didn't have to do anything improper, and I was persuasive enough that they agreed." 

"I'm sure you were." 

"When I was assigned to you, I Googled you right away and found out a few things. First, I knew about your family and their business. Second, I knew that you were attractive and smart. And third, it appeared from what I saw online that you were a straight shooter, but not a Boy Scout. I also could tell that while academically, you were more than qualified for the school, it was a reach for you athletically, and I was impressed that you wanted to test yourself and make yourself better. I hoped that you would be all of those things when we met, and you passed. I was impressed by you, the way you carried yourself, the way you treated me with respect. I have no idea if they assigned me to you for a reason, or if it was just the luck of the draw, but I think it worked out pretty well." 

At this point, the waiter came in, bringing dinner. My veal chop was thick and looked perfect, and was resting on a bed of garlicky greens. Anna Marie had what looked like a rib-eye steak. The waiter also left us with platters of home fries, onion rings and grilled slabs of tomato before exiting. 

"The steak looks great. I don't recall being offered that." 

Anna Marie looked a bit sheepish. "Uncle John is proudest of the veal chop and the branzino, so that's what he offered you. But he knows I want the rib-eye. I'll give you a bite of mine." 

"Thanks." I took a bite of the veal. It was perfectly cooked, with a delicious pan gravy. Uncle John didn't steer me wrong, but of course, I was family. 

"So, can I ask, why have you treated me this way—alternating hot and cold?" 

"Let me ask you this—if I had slept with you during your recruiting trip, what would you have thought of me? Be honest." 

I paused. "I would have thought that you were a cheap bimbo." 

She nodded. "And now, you are intrigued, right?" 

"Intrigued, interested, and still a bit unsure." 

"Good answer." She cut a slice of steak and passed it to me. I put it on my plate, handed her back her fork, and used mine to eat it. It was delicious. But to be fair, I thought the veal was better. 

"That's delicious. Why are you telling me this now?" 

"For a few reasons. First, I wanted to make sure that you were O.K. I told you that I was your friend, and I was worried. Second, I don't want to lose contact with you, and I'm concerned that you might use the end of your football career as an excuse to transfer to an Ivy, or Stanford, or someplace like that." 

"I thought about it, but I'm happy here. I'm staying." 

"I'm glad." 

"But why? What do you want from me? I'm not my father, and I'm not even sure that I'm ever going into our company." 

"Friendship. Justin, I like you. The one thing that my father keeps telling me is that if you find someone that you trust, someone that you believe can be a good friend, you cultivate that relationship. You test it and see if it is real. And one day, if you need it, it is there. And if it isn't, all you have spent is time, and time well spent." 

"Your father is a wise man." 

"For a mob boss?" 

"I'd never say that." 

"Very good answer." 

"So, that's it?" 

"That's it. We test our friendship. And maybe, one day, next week, 5 years from now, 10 years from now, one of us needs a friend, and the other is there." 

I paused to think, and to eat more of the incredible meal in front of me, and to watch Anna Marie. "Do you have other friends like that?" 

"A few. One on campus, a few in other places." 

I guess a look passed over my face. "You want to know if I sleep with my other friends, right?" 

I nodded, not sure what I wanted to hear. "Not the women—I don't go for that, although I have no problem for those who do. And yes, some of the men." 

"I just wanted to know where we stand." 

"Where we stood before. If you want to sleep with other women, I'm certainly not going to stand in your way. But know this, Justin, if I come around—" 

"They leave?" 

"If that's what you want." 

I said nothing. I found it hard to imagine choosing anyone over Anna Marie Raspoli, but you never know what happens in life. 

She smiled, the full smile, "Good non-answer." 

After that, the conversation turned to lighter matters. School, family, music and sports as well as politics. She was as interesting on these issues as she was on every other topic. I started to believe that our relationship could actually develop into a friendship, a real friendship. 

The dinner plates were cleared, and dessert and coffee appeared, after which, and without waiting for a check, we left the room. Anna Marie led me to the kitchen, where her cousin Lorenzo, a handsome, muscular guy with the family nose and arms covered in tattoos, was commanding the kitchen crew. He hugged and cheek-kissed his cousin, and after I raved about his cooking, he hugged me, too. We left after bidding fond farewells to Uncle John and Francesca. 

The ride back was filled with more general conversation, but as we approached campus, she veered away from the road to my dorm. "Where are we going?" I asked. 

"My place. It is more private and the bed had more room for you to ravage me. Unless you'd rather not." 

"I'd love to see your place," I said, poorly feigning indifference. 

"Good answer," she said, and pressed down harder on the accelerator. 

xxxxxxxxxx 

When I woke up the next morning, I was sore, naked and entwined with Anna Marie. The sheets were partially off the bed, and the blankets were nowhere to be found. I tried to carefully untangle myself from the beauty lying next to me, and it appeared that I was able to do so without waking her. She rolled onto her side, facing away from me, giving me a breathtaking look at her back, hips and ass, and her long tanned legs. I walked toward the bathroom, stepping over the clothing and underwear that were strewn around her bedroom. 

I should not have been surprised that she had an off-campus apartment, or that it was luxurious and well appointed. As a freshman, and an athlete, I had to stay in the dorms, although next year, now that I wasn't on the team, I could move into an apartment. It was something to discuss with my parents. 

After pissing, I stretched out a little, enjoying the feeling of post-coital soreness. As with the last time, sex with Anna Marie was intense and extremely enjoyable. 

When I returned from the bathroom, I was treated to the sight of a gorgeous nude woman, totally uncovered and splayed out on the bed. And although a few minutes before, I would have sworn that I was completely spent, her charms had the expected effect, and it wasn't long before we were going at it again, and afterwards I slipped back into a hazy sleep. 

And that was sort of the way it went for the next couple of years. To be fair, Anna Marie did sometimes respond to my texts and calls, and she even took me up on my invitation to coffee or dinner or drinks a few times. I even introduced her as a friend to my parents once. But she always seemed to retain the upper hand in our relationship. She would still appear unannounced at my apartment and treat me to exquisite sex. Other times we would go out somewhere, and she would refuse to get intimate. Sometimes, when I saw her on campus, she would run over and kiss me, and other times she would ignore me. Once, I tried to pull the same trick on her, and stood in the lobby of her building for over an hour, only to get a text from her informing me that the building had a back entrance, she was in bed, alone, and was planning to stay that way. And it was more than a month before she deigned to contact me. 

Obviously, it was important for her to retain some distance, and keep me off balance. At the time, it was frustrating, but in retrospect, I guess it was all related to her theory that it kept me interested and prevented me from taking her from granted. And, in general, the benefits were well worth the frustration. And when I got too frustrated, I still was able to find companionship, despite my lack of status as a jock.



The Vetting Ch. 02



The conclusion to the story. Again, there is sex, but no detailed descriptions, for reasons that make sense to the concept. 

***** 

After graduation, Anna Marie took a job with a company that she intimated was part of the family's legitimate empire in another city, and I lost touch with her for the most part. I started dating a truly wonderful woman a year behind me at school, and we were pretty serious for a while. I'm sure you can find out her name if you want, but I'm not going to say anything because, well, because if you knew who she is, you would know why I'm trying to be discreet. We continued to date long distance after I graduated and moved to New York, to work for a couple of years as a consultant before business school, but broke it off when I got into Wharton, and she moved out west to follow her dreams. 

After my first year at Wharton, I sat down with my father and we discussed my future. He made it clear that I was welcome to join the family business, and would start at a level commensurate with my experience, which meant pretty low. And if I showed ability, I would be promoted appropriately, and if it made sense, groomed to succeed him. If not, I would be told what my prospects were at the company. In other words, it would be the same path that he took in succeeding my grandfather. But he also made it clear that I had his and Mom's blessing to strike out on my own, with full knowledge that there would always be a place for me at the company. 

Obviously, I had been thinking hard about this before the talk, and while there certainly was a part of me that wanted to prove that I could be a success on my own, I loved our family business, and decided that I wanted to contribute to it. I could tell my father was pleased, and we toasted the decision with a nice bottle of Champagne that he had chilled, in the hope that I'd take him up on his offer. 

Knowing that I had a job after graduation made second year less stressful, and I really enjoyed my studies. I think it was in March, I was coming home from getting a beer with one of my classmates and was walking into the lobby of my building to have a quiet dinner alone when I got a whiff of a scent that I hadn't smelled in years. My head snapped in the direction of the scent, and there was Anna Marie Raspoli. The few years since I had seen her had apparently been good for her. She looked even more elegant and beautiful than I remembered, and I had a good memory. 

"Justin," she said with that beguiling half-smile on her dark red lips. 

"Anna Marie," I responded and moved closer. I was rewarded with a quick hug and a kiss on both my cheeks. "You look great. I can't believe that it's been years since I last saw you." 

"I know. You look well. Happy." 

"I am, thanks. You?" 

"The same. Can I buy you dinner and we can catch up?" 

"Sure, why not? What brings you to the City of Brotherly Love?" We started to walk out of the building, and she grabbed my arm as if we had been dating for years. 

"Recruiting for my company—" 

"That's right, I forgot that is going on now. I'm going to work for the family business." 

"I know." 

I looked at her. "How did you know?" 

"I mean, I expected that, knowing you." 

I wasn't sure she was telling the whole truth, but it didn't really matter. She hailed a cab and gave an address that was a bit out of town. 

"Another Uncle?" I asked, recalling that wonderful meal we had years before. 

"Not exactly. A friend of the family owns this one." 

I was surprised that the place we pulled up to was not an Italian place, but instead was a small French bistro looking restaurant. She declined my offer to pay for the cab, settled with the driver, then led me in. Surprisingly, the restaurant was empty, except for one table, where a familiar looking gray-haired gentleman was sitting. He stood as we approached. 

"Mr. Raspoli," I said, holding out my hand. "It is a pleasure to see you again." 

He smiled. "Sure, kid. Good to see you, too." 

We sat and made brief small talk before food and wine started to appear. 

Don Antonio said little and just listened as I told him and his daughter what I was studying and what my plans were, and as Anna Marie filled me in on her life since college. She had worked at a couple of different companies in different states, and then mentioned that she was going to be named CEO of the family holding company in a month. 

I raised my wineglass to her and said, "Congratulations." She smiled. I looked at Don Antonio and said, "You must be proud of her." 

He nodded and growled, "Yeah. She is great. And now I can retire and let her worry. But if she messes up..." He made a gesture that appeared to be a knife slashing his neck. I almost dropped my fork, and couldn't take my eyes from Don Antonio. And then he threw back his head, laughing. "Gotcha, kid. God, I wish you coulda seen your face." 

I started laughing, more out of politeness and relief than mirth, and took a long drink of wine. I looked at Anna Marie, and her face was impassive. 

Don Antonio wiped his mouth and said, "One of the benefits of retiring is that I can leave early and go to bed." He stood and we stood. I shook his hand, and he kissed Anna Marie on the cheek. "Vito will drive you home when you are done. Have a nice evening." He walked out, followed by a large, black clad man who I hadn't noticed before. 

"It is really good to see you, Anna Marie," I said, when the room was empty again. 

"Good to see you, too, Justin." 

"So does all of this mean that the transformation is done?" 

Her eyes darted around the room. "Almost entirely. We have pretty much walked away from our less savory interests—" 

"Walked away?" 

"I didn't say we gave them away," she said, displaying that half-smile again. "But, yes, we are almost completely an upstanding multinational corporation." 

"If such a thing was possible." 

"If such a thing was possible," she repeated. 

"I always knew that we would end up with that in common," she said. "Although admittedly, the businesses had somewhat different roots." 

Nodding, I replied, raising my glass, "Congratulations on becoming a legal pirate." 

She laughed, then said, "If my father heard you say that, you might not be smiling so much." 

My face fell, "No offense meant, you know, it was just a joke." 

"I know, Justin. You may not believe this, but you are one of the very few people who know enough, and who I trust enough, to make jokes like that." 

I breathed out, in relief. Changing the subject, I asked, "What about your personal life?" 

That smile crossed her face again. "If you are asking if I'm married or seeing someone, the answer is no. I've been too busy to maintain any sort of relationship. Which doesn't mean that I've been living the life of my great-aunt Teresa, who is a nun. What about you?" 

"I had one serious relationship, but that didn't work, and I've been unattached since then. Although not completely lacking in female companionship," I felt compelled to add. By this time, all of our food and wine was gone. I folded my napkin on the table and said, "This has been a nice evening. Where do we go from here?" 

"Your place, of course," she replied. 

I was no longer surprised by the lack of any check, or her directness. We left the restaurant, entered the black car that was waiting for us, and snuggled together on the ride back to my apartment. It was as if she wanted to prolong the anticipation until we got there, and if that was her plan, it worked, because we nearly ripped each other's clothing off in my living room before making it to the bedroom for a night of passion. Sex with Anna Marie was as incredible as I had remembered, and if anything, the few years since we last were together improved everything. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

In the morning, to my disappointment, she was gone. I arranged to send flowers to the office of the company she was working at, in part to say "thanks" and in part because I thought it might actually make her a little uncomfortable. 

I graduated from Wharton, took a month off travelling around Europe, then returned to start work. My father sent me to our main shipping facility, to work as an assistant to the head of the department. He told me that it would be a good way to start learning some of the logistical challenges that we faced. And he was right. I worked hard, because the last thing I wanted was to be thought of as only the boss' kid, and because there was much to do. My boss, Arnie Trowbridge, was a long-time, trusted executive and was damned good at his job. I did suggest a few improvements, and he even agreed to implement a couple. The rest, he patiently pointed out, would have been disasters. 

With all of that, Anna Marie Raspoli faded from my mind, although I did see the articles in the Wall Street Journal and some of the business blogs about her ascension to the head of her family business, all of which, of course, discussed its colorful and illicit past. Most of the articles used some form of the word "formidable" in discussing Anna Marie. 

One afternoon, I was sitting in my cubicle, poring over some spreadsheets, looking for efficiencies, when a large, black clad man appeared in the door holding an envelope. It was surprising, because typically, visitors were announced, and deliveries were circulated by our internal messengers. Wordlessly, he handed me the envelope and walked out. My name was written on the outside in a neat, but clearly feminine hand. I opened the envelope, and got a faint whiff of her scent. There was a card inside, blank one side, and on the other, in the same handwriting, was written, "Get a burner phone. Call this number." I don't remember now what the number was. "Destroy this note." It was signed "AMR". 

I had enough credibility in the job by that point that no one cared if I walked out, mid-afternoon. I drove to the nearest place to get a burner, paid for it with cash, then got in my car and drove somewhere private. Somehow, I knew I needed to do that. When I got there, I called the number. After three rings, I heard her voice. "I'm glad you called. Give me fifteen minutes." The call ended. 

Sitting in my car, I tried to figure out what was going on, and worried that, despite her protestations, Anna Marie Raspoli was not fully free of her father's legacy, and I knew that I didn't want to get involved in anything shady that could damage our business, or my future. But I knew I needed to listen. I was shocked from my thoughts by the unfamiliar ringing of the phone. 

Without any preamble, she said, "Can you talk freely?" 

"Yes." 

"Look, sorry about the mystery, but it will make sense in a second." 

"Good," I replied. I didn't want to commit to anything. 

"Your company does business with Eltward Industries, right?" 

"Yes. They are one of our biggest suppliers. But you already know that, right?" 

She laughed. "Yes, of course I do. I think they are ripping you off." 

"How is that possible? We've been doing business with them since my Grandpa was alive." 

"I know. But a couple of years ago, Davey Eltward took over, and he's a moron and a cokehead." 

"O.K. How does that affect me?" 

"I've found out that they are cutting corners to save money, and that their products aren't what their specs say." She gave me a few examples. 

"How do you know?" 

"Not the right question, Justin." She was right. 

"Why are you telling me this?" 

"I told you years ago that I was your friend." 

"Then, thank you, my friend." 

"You're welcome." Before I could respond, she cut off the call, and I knew that it would be futile to call back. Instead, I called my father on the burner. 

"Dad?" 

"Yes, Justin. What phone are you calling from?" 

"Don't worry—I'll explain later. Dad, we have an issue, and I need to speak with you face to face, as soon as possible." 

"Is everything O.K. there?" 

"Yes, Dad, but I'd rather discuss it in person." 

"O.K. I'll take the jet and we can have dinner." 

"I'll order in." 

"Sounds good, son. See you in a few." 

I drove back to the office and said nothing, but not before dropping the burner phone down a sewer grate. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

Over my father's favorite sausage and peppers pizza, I told him what Anna Marie Raspoli told me. 

"Are you sure that she is telling the truth, Justin?" 

"As long as I've known her, she has never lied to me, at least not that I know of." 

"It certainly can't hurt to check to see if the Eltward materials are up to spec." He picked up his phone and made a couple of calls. 

A couple of days later, Dad called me at the office. "Your friend was right. It turns out that they were paying off a couple of our guys to ignore the deficiencies. I'm so disappointed that our employees would betray us." 

"Yeah, I know." 

"Anyway, they confessed and implicated Eltward. They've been fired, and we have given the information to the appropriate authorities. We are going to have to recall some shipments and make some adjustments, but luckily, our customers seem to understand that it wasn't our fault. Good job, son." 

"I didn't do anything, really." 

"You have been smart enough to make a good friend, who helped you out. And were smart enough to trust her." 

"I guess." 

I arranged to send Anna Marie flowers again, this time, with a card that said, "Thanks, friend." I knew she would understand. 

Within the week, the press was reporting the story, and the scandal devastated Eltward Industries. About a month later, the press reported that Eltward was bought for a song by a company called RMA Associates, and it only took me about 10 minutes online to determine that RMA was a subsidiary of Anna Marie Raspoli's company. 

I have to admit, I was a bit annoyed. I mean, she did help to protect our company, but it also seemed to be part of a takeover strategy. When I drove to my apartment that night, I started thinking what I would say to Anna Marie when I called her the next day to give he a piece of my mind. But when I walked into the lobby of the building, she was standing there, with the same impassive look on her face that she always had when surprising me. 

"Hello, Justin." 

"Hello." 

"You don't look happy to see me right now." 

"I'm confused." 

"Don't you remember my father's advice?" 

I did, and I hated that I said that. "Yes." 

"Can we go to your apartment and talk?" 

"Of course." 

We took the elevator up to the 4th floor, and entered my place. Since it was temporary, and I didn't spend much time there, it was pretty sparsely furnished. 

Anna Marie looked around. "Decorator still in Milan?" 

I smiled, remembering the joke. "No, Paris, I think." 

She smiled. I looked at her and realized how beautiful she was. She seemed to defy the usual wisdom, and was getting more beautiful as she got older. 

"Can I get you something?" 

"Red wine?" 

I rummaged in my cabinet and pulled out a bottle, opened it and poured two glasses. Anna Marie smelled the wine and took a sip. 

"Barolo?" 

I smiled. "Yes. I always have a couple of bottles around. Even if it isn't quite as good as we had at Uncle John's." 

"It isn't. But still good. Thanks." 

We sat on the couch. I could smell her, and it caused the usual lust to begin building. And I knew that she knew that. 

"What brings you to our fair city?" 

"I figured you would want to talk." 

"You're right. Why didn't you tell me?" 

"Tell you what?" 

"Seriously? That you only told me about Eltward so that you could snap up the company at a depressed price." 

She looked at me with a hard, scary look. "And that matters to you how? I helped your company prevent a huge problem. That I got a benefit from helping you is of no interest to you. And as your friend, I assumed that you would be happy for me." She took a sip of wine and I could see her swirling it around her mouth. 

"I guess I expected you to tell me the truth." 

"I did. I told you all of the truth that you needed to know." 

It was my turn to take a drink, and to think. I guess that she was right, and that my anger was based on the fact that, once again, she knew more than I did. "You're right. I'm sorry." 

"Are you?" 

"I am, Anna Marie." 

"Then I think you need to make it up to me." She stood up and took my hand. "Which one is the bedroom." 

"The door on the right." 

"Then let's go." 

It was a memorable night, as it always was when I got to be naked with Anna Marie Raspoli, and she even was there in the morning for a quick encore, before I had to get to work, and she had to get back to her office. We promised to stay in touch more, but I suspected that was more a dream than reality. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

In fact, it was about three years before I actually spoke with her again. In that time, we had exchanged a few emails, mostly me congratulating her on her company's successes after reading about them, and once her congratulating me on moving to the home office to work with my father. Apparently, my work in shipping, and then in a couple of other divisions, was good enough that Dad was prepared to start grooming me for the big job. 

I also came close to getting married during that period, to a wonderful and beautiful woman who even accepted my proposal. But six months later, as you may know, she died in a car accident. I was devastated, and I'm pretty sure that Anna Marie was one of the many who sent condolences. Life has to go on, though, and eventually, I threw myself back into work, trying to figure out how Dad did what he did, and trying to come up with things he didn't think of. 

So, I was surprised one afternoon when Susie, my assistant, buzzed me to tell me that Anna Marie Raspoli was on the phone. I picked up the receiver and said, "Hi. How have you been?" 

"Fine, mostly good, I guess. I was sorry to hear about -" 

"Thanks. I appreciate it." I wanted to move on. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

"Um, I need your help on a small matter." 

My antennas went up. She had never asked for anything before, although I understood that as her "friend" we were supposed to help each other, and she certainly had a favor owed to her. "Sure, what do you need." 

"You are still friendly with Gage Padgett, right?" 

"Sure. I mean it is hard to stay close with someone who is as famous as he is, but yeah, we email and text occasionally, speak one or twice a year, and he got me tickets to see him play a couple of times. Why?" 

"Well, I've gone out on a bit of a limb with my board, because I want to buy UAG—" 

"The sports agency?" 

"Yeah. I think they are a good play now because they are small, but have good management and a blue chip roster. Gage is their big star, but he has a change of control provision in his contract, and he made it clear that he won't be associated with any company owned by—" 

"By someone in your family." 

"Exactly. I met with him, tried to explain to him that we were completely clean, but it was like talking to a wall." 

"And let me guess, your persuasive skills were not helpful with him." 

There was anger in her voice when she responded. "If you think that I offered to-" 

"No, no, no. I just meant that you have a way of making men do what you want, but that Gage is immune to that." 

She breathed out. "I was worried that I was going to have to kill you now." 

Now, I was nervous. "Are you—" 

Anna Marie laughed her deep laugh. "Of course not. Even you still think that I hang around with my father's associates." 

"Do you?" 

"Some, but not the ones who you are worried about." I sensed that she was teasing me again. 




The Vetting Ch. 02



"So you want me to talk to Gage?" 

"Yes. Explain to him that I am not my father, and that we are not those people. And whatever else you need to say to get him to stay. Because without him, it probably isn't worth doing the deal." 

"O.K." 

"Good answer." 

"And I assume that this is time sensitive?" 

"You assume correctly, my friend." 

"Then, my friend, I will do my best." 

"Justin, I need you to succeed." 

"Got it." She hung up. 

Long story short, I left a message for Gage, and he called me back a day later. I gave him the full story, leaving out my occasional sexual relationship with Anna Marie, and convinced him to at least give it a chance. So, he stayed with the company, the deal went through, Anna Marie was happy, and you know how it worked out for Gage. 

And a few weeks later, on a Friday night, I was surprised by Anna Marie, at my apartment, for a weekend in which we barely ever left my bedroom. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

Another couple of years passed, and I gradually learned our business and its complexities. I started to be able to guess what my father would do before he did it most of the time, and occasionally, when I was "wrong," Dad actually liked my idea better. I was becoming more comfortable knowing that I was going to take over for him down the road, and he showed no signs of slowing down, which was great, because as you know, he was a great guy. 

This time, random went by the name of "deep vein thrombosis and pulmonary embolism." Dad was flying from the home office to one of our facilities in Arizona, and keeled over somewhere over Texas. The plane landed as quickly as possible, but by the time he got to the hospital it was too late. In fact, from what the doctors said, it was probably too late even before they landed. 

Obviously, I was devastated, and mom visibly aged a decade overnight. After we got over the initial shock, and the funeral, where I thought I saw Anna Marie standing in the back, Mom, who now owned all of the company, except for the 20% they had given me when I moved into the home office, made it clear that she wanted me to step into Dad's shoes. I told her I wasn't ready, and that we should hire a professional, or promote Cal Severen, our COO, until I was. But she told me that Dad had the same reaction when grandpa died, and he did fine. I pointed out that Dad had her to lean on, and I didn't have anyone like that. Mom gave me an odd look and said, "First of all, you have me. I'm still here, and I'm sure as hell going to protect your father's legacy. And second, if you don't have someone, then maybe you need to figure out why, and fix that." 

Mom's words rang in my ears for days, even as I threw myself into the job. I had meetings stacked up upon conference calls, interrupted by videoconferences. I flew halfway around the world and back—making sure to do exercises designed to prevent what happened to Dad, although I suspected that I was fighting the last war. And, after a few months of insanity, things seemed to be getting back to a semblance of normal. When it did, I kept hearing Mom's advice. 

I realized that after all these years, and other women, when I was alone in bed at night, or dozing on a plane, and the inevitable thought of female companionship entered my brain, there was only one face, one body, one smell and one mind that I craved. I was clearly getting to the point where it was time to put up or shut up. And yet, for once, I realized that I had to out strategize the master strategist. I knew that if I came on too strong, too directly, that it was likely to cause her to resist. That she was happiest when she was in control, and I had to make her think that she was. I knew that if I could pull it off, I would get what I wanted and what I probably needed. And that if I didn't, it was time to move on, find an acceptable substitute, get married and give Mom the grandchildren that she deserved, and hopefully my successor. 

It is a little embarrassing to say that I used my father's death in my plan, but a man has to do what a man has to do. I called Anna Marie, and when she called me back the next day, she said, "Justin—I'm so sorry. I had so much respect for your father." 

"Thanks. Did I see you at the funeral?" 

"Yes, I wanted to pay my respects, but didn't want to intrude." 

"You should have. I would have liked to have seen you, and Mom would have appreciated it." 

"I'm sorry. I guess you are right. Anyway, how are you doing?" 

"Now, I'm better. The top job is a bitch, but it is ultimately fun." 

She laughed her throaty laugh. "I could have told you that, my friend, but I'm sorry you had to find out this way." 

"I know. Look, I need a favor." I knew that she would have a hard time saying "no" if I asked her that way. 

"Anything. You know that." 

"I appreciate it. I need you to spend the weekend with me. Someplace warm and private." 

That laugh again, which turned my insides into jelly. "That's the favor?" 

And then I went for it. All the violins playing. "Yeah. Look, I've been working constantly since Dad died trying to make sure I don't fuck things up, and I think I have things on an even keel, more or less. Mom suggested that I take a weekend and recharge, and I thought that we could talk. You're one of the few people I can really talk to about my Dad and all that." No, I wasn't proud. 

I could hear a bit of a twinkle in her voice. "Talk? You want to fly someplace warm for the weekend and just talk? We can talk anywhere." 

I knew she was busting my chops. Pausing for effect, I said, "Well, I guess there are other things to do than talk." 

"In that case, I'm in. Let me clear my calendar. And if you want, we can use our place in the Bahamas." 

A couple of days later, I was on her corporate jet, flying to their "place in the Bahamas," a small private island with a huge complex of bungalows, pools and a 9 hole golf course. We stayed in the main house. We got some of the talking out of the way pretty quickly, before christening the bedroom, another bedroom, the private beach and the pool, all while drinking incredible wine and eating food prepared by a staff of apparently invisible chefs, served and cleaned up by a virtually invisible crew. 

The morning of our second day, I was going to start trying to move the conversation in the direction I wanted, when there was a surprising knock on the bedroom door. A young uniformed staffer entered. "Miss Raspoli, I'm terribly sorry, but there may be a problem," he stated seriously, but with a typical island lilt. 

"What is it Terrence?" Anna Marie asked, concerned. 

"Hurricane Bentley," he said. 

"But Alistair said that it was going to head away from the island." 

He shook his head. "It seems that the forecast has changed." 

"Can we get the jet back here right away, so we can get out before it hits?" she asked. 

"Sorry, ma'am. I looked into that, but it is booked for the San Diego meeting. It would be available to take you home as scheduled, but it looks like the weather won't permit it." 

"What about renting another plane?" 

"I looked into that, too, and I can't find anything." 

Anna Marie shot him that look, and I could see the fear in his eyes and hear the tremor in his voice. "Really, Ms. Raspoli, I tried everywhere, but the hurricane..." His voice trailed off. 

"We're safe here, right?" 

"Of course, ma'am. We have the generators and plenty of gasoline, enough food stored away for a month and, if necessary, we have the bunker." 

She looked at me. "Are you O.K. staying for a few extra days, even if they are going to be a bit wet and windy?" 

"With you? Of course." 

"Good answer, Justin." She turned to Terrence. "Thank you, and good work, Terrence. Make the appropriate preparations." 

I grabbed my phone and sent off a few emails and texts, and settled back into bed. Anna Marie had some other ideas, and we stayed together, enjoying each other, for a few hours. 

Later that day, we were sitting, naked except for our robes, on the terrace, drinking wine and watching the clouds moving in over the choppy ocean. 

"I could get used to this," I said. 

"Being stranded in a hurricane?" 

"Being stranded with you." 

She smiled. "Good answer." 

"I know." I was silent, waiting for her reaction. 

"This is nice. I've always been able to be comfortable with you." It seemed like maybe I'd gotten the hook in, but I needed to be careful, or she would wriggle free. 

"Me too. Even after all this time, we're always there for each other." 

The wind started to pick up, and I could feel rain begin to splash my face. Anna Marie stood up, and I admired her tanned and strong legs. "We probably should go in." She reached for my hand, and I took it, and continued to hold it as we went back into the house. Somehow, the table was set for a late night snack, and we had a bite, then moved to the big couch in the screening room to watch a movie. During which we made out like teenagers in a drive-in. 

At about 2 a.m., as we were recovering from what seemed to me to be more lovemaking than just sex, we could hear the wind howling and the rain pounding the roof and windows. Anna Marie turned on her side, brushed her hair out of her face and said, "What you were saying before?" There was enough ambient light in the room that I could sort of make out her face. 

I thought I knew what she was referring to, but I needed to play dumb. "What thing?" 

"About how we have always been there for each other." 

"Yeah, it's true." 

"It is." She paused, took a breath and said, "I'm tired of being alone. This feels right, Justin. We should make this a permanent thing. It makes sense." 

I hoped she didn't see the dumb grin on my face. I tried to hold it together, and responded. "As usual, you are right. I agree." 

"Good answer, Justin," and she proceeded to reward me in a very pleasurable way. 

When I woke the next morning, the hurricane was still raging outside, and I could hear Anna Marie on her phone from the other room. We might be a couple, whatever that would mean, but business was business. She returned, naked and stunning, and put her phone down. 

"Everything O.K.?" I asked. 

"Apparently so, and I'm a little worried that they don't miss me." 

"Trust me, they do. Whether they know it or not." 

She smiled. "What I said before? About making this a permanent thing?" 

"Yes?" 

"You don't have to if you don't want to. I mean, springing that on you in bed isn't fair." 

I smiled. "Since when are you worried about 'fair' when you want something?" I smiled again, defusing what looked like it was going to be an angry look. "No, I'm in. I'm really glad that you suggested it." 

"You set me up." 

I couldn't read her face. What I said next might actually determine the future course of my life. I decided to jump in, head first. "You're right." 

"I knew it." 

"I'm sure you did," I said, although I wasn't really sure, but I knew she needed to tell me that. And it was fine. One thing my dad taught me is that the process isn't always as important as the result, and I was quite pleased with the result. 

"Then we are agreed. We are a couple," she said, as if no opposition would be permitted. 

"Exclusive," I added. She nodded. "And we figure out how to see each other more than every few years." 

"Of course. I can't be celibate for that long." She paused. "And I actually miss you when we aren't together." 

You can probably guess what happened next, at least in general terms, because I suspect the specifics would stump you. 

After breakfast, I checked in at the office, and everything was under control. I had them email me some things that I really didn't care all that much about, just so they would think that I was paying close attention, then called my mother and told her what had happened. She was pleased, more than pleased actually, and berated me gently for not doing this years before. When she asked about marriage, I told her that I wasn't going to push my luck right now, and that baby steps were needed. 

Somehow, we both spent an hour or so working, listening to the rain and the wind, which definitely appeared to be winding down. I was going through my emails, and I was reminded of a little problem I was having dealing with a production bottleneck, and sort of tossed out the problem, in hypothetical, to Anna Marie. She thought for a few seconds, then suggested an elegant, if somewhat out of the box solution, which I immediately emailed back to the point guy on the issue. I was surprised, a few minutes later, when she asked for my advice on a dicey personnel issue, and it sounded like she liked my ideas. 

That evening, Terrence returned and told us that the jet would be able to arrive the following evening to take us home. On the one hand, I was happy that I could get back to my work and the company, but on the other hand, I didn't want to leave our little paradise together. We had just finished watching yet another movie and were getting ready to go to bed, when Anna Marie said, "You know something amazing? Considering the businesses that we are in, I don't think we actually compete in any sector." 

I thought for a few seconds and nodded. "In fact, I think one of my divisions supplies raw materials for your Drigex subsidiary." 

She nodded, "and my StafSenz agency staffs a number of your Midwestern facilities." 

It was true. We thought of a few other similar situations and realized that her conglomerate was bigger and more diverse than my company, but we never were opposed, and actually cooperated. I looked at her, and I could see the wheels spinning behind her beautiful face, and mine started to whir a bit. 

"Anna Marie, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" 

"I usually know what you are thinking." 

That was true. "But does it make sense?" 

"In a business or personal sense?" 

"Both." 

She looked at me with her half smile. "Business-wise, I think it might. But personally it might be a problem." 

"Not if we don't let it." 

"Good answer. Call your mother." 

After explaining the situation to my mother, and answering a number of pointed questions, she asked me the key one. "Do you think that you and Anna Marie are committed to each other?" 

"Mom, I think so, but it is so new." 

"Understood, but what does your gut say?" 

"My gut says that as far as I'm concerned, I'd do anything to keep us together." 

"What about children?" 

"We haven't discussed that, but I know that she loves family." 

"To be crass, Justin, presumably, if you have children, the two entities will ultimately end up with common ownership." 

"Good point. Look, let's let the lawyers and bankers look at it, and see what happens. I figure that this will either draw Anna Marie and me together, or demonstrate that we aren't meant to be." 

"Makes sense. Just remember that this company is your family legacy." 

"I know, and I won't let anything happen to it." 

"I trust you, son. You know that. I'll make the calls—you enjoy the end of your vacation." 

"Thanks, Mom. Love you." 

"Love you too. Say hi to Anna Marie. Bye." 

We spent the next day alternating between sex and talking with our advisors, and that continued while we flew home. 

It took a couple of difficult months until we came up with an appropriate structure for the deal that made economic sense, and protected my family. My mother cashed out, leaving her with lots of money. On a day-to-day basis, not much changed for me, at the start. I continued to run my part of the enterprise and Anna Marie ran hers, and we spoke regularly about ways to increase our synergy until we were able to let our employees take over the heavy lifting. And we made sure to see each other regularly, and if anything, our passion for each other seemed to increase. 

Six months into the combination, I was in Anna Marie's apartment, and we were eating dinner. Before dessert, she said, "Justin, I've cleared the first weekend in October with my family. We can get married then." 

I was surprised that she brought it up, but not that she did so as a fait accompli. But there was no reason to fight what I wanted. "Of course," I said, smiling. "And I assume that you've started to make the arrangements." 

"Of course." She showed me that same half smile that I remembered from her recruitment of me back in college. 

"You'll let my mother be involved?" I asked. 

"I've already spoken to her." 

"I figured as much." 

She told me exactly when and where the ceremony and reception would be, and while some men might have been a bit miffed about being left out of the decision making process, her decisions were, as usual, right on point, and left me with nothing to criticize. I'm sure you've read the articles about the wedding—it was quite an event, and everyone had a great time. The honeymoon in Italy was equally wonderful, for many, many reasons, not the least of which was the conception of our son and the chance to meet Anna Marie's relatives who never moved to America, or had moved back. 

Afterwards, I began to spend more and more time with Anna Marie, whose pregnancy went smoothly, and barely kept her away from her corporate responsibilities, although she did work more from home. I couldn't justify closing my headquarters just to be near her and our son, so I essentially commuted back and forth. I have to admit having access to our own planes definitely made it easier than it could have been. But our combined company continued to thrive, even beyond our initial projections. 

So, when Anna Marie got the call suggesting that she might be considered for the ambassadorship, it was a bit of a shock. The position opened, as you know, when a random traffic stop found her predecessor under the influence and in possession of a fairly hefty amount of cocaine. I know that there were intense discussions about her family's past, and I know that the President made it clear that he saw Anna Marie as an example of overcoming the negatives and turning them into positives. And of course, he recognized her intellect and her ability to get what she wanted. I assume that you are aware that the President and Anna Marie were friends when she was in business school and he was school. I've never asked her what the extent of her friendship was, but as you know, "friend" is an important concept to her. I suspect that there is some juiciness there, and you will find out, if you haven't already. 

So, we moved to Italy, and left our companies to our trusted lieutenants, because, as I soon found, the spouse of the ambassador works damn hard, but not as hard as the ambassador. I do enjoy the life here, and I know that Anna Marie loves the fact that our son is learning Italian. 

She was shocked, as I was, when we heard about the Vice President's skiing accident. It was terrible, I mean I only met him once, and he seemed like a good guy, and politically, we were on his side. It looked like he would succeed the President, so this must really be a mess. Anna Marie said that the President doesn't want to give any of the potential candidates a leg up by making them Vice President, and that she is in the running because she has no political ambitions, wants to do the right thing for the country and would bring, he said, a refreshing perspective. All of which I agree with, and not just because I've been in love with her for years. 

If you ask me, and I think you sort of are asking, she would do an incredible job. She is brilliant, tough, sophisticated and fearless. I mean, after standing up to her father, and his associates the way she did, I can't imagine that there are many Senators or world leaders who would intimidate her. And I certainly would be proud to be the Second Gentleman. No doubt. 




The Vetting Ch. 02



***** 

Epilogue 

For a while, it looked like confirmation was actually going to be an issue. Fox News kept bringing up her family's past, and the details of her relationship, years before he met the First Lady. Even some of the MSNBC folks pointed out some environmental issues that our companies had not dealt with well over the years. Not to mention her lack of experience in the job. 

But her appearances before Congress were a work of art. She had the Senators and Representatives eating out of her hand by the end, which was no surprise to someone who had fallen under her spell years before, and remains there to this day. And when Senator Padgett crossed the aisle and came out strongly in favor of her, telling his story of how he had doubts about her years ago, but that she proved to be honest, hardworking, moral and brilliant, the opposition from the right crumbled, and she was confirmed unanimously. 

As expected, she has done a great job, probably better than the President could have guessed, and there are even rumblings of Raspoli for President Committees being started. She has promised me, though, that she wants to get back to work, get back to our family, maybe even have another child, and that she has no interest in becoming the Leader of the Free World. 

She's never lied to me. Admittedly, there have been times that she hasn't told me the whole truth, but that's different. Right?