K&T, LLC Ch. 06

I told him that I would pass along his name, but warned him that Sheila's book was already full. That was expected. Even if she had not had a client all year, Hollywood people would expect her to claim a full schedule. So, I reinforced it. I told him that she had just wrapped a big project and was taking a week to relocate the business. That was only the truth.

Unfortunately, he was very motivated. So, I told him that we were both involved in a local wedding, someone I had dated in high school. I would sneak his name in, but that she was seriously booked for the next ten days. To make him work for it, I told him to send three high resolution images and some idea what he wanted. I warned him that I called in my favors. Anything I wanted was good. He was as bad as CC in that regard.

Once I finally got him off the phone, I called Sean's battleaxe secretary. I told her that I was already getting inquiries about Sheila in the context of photo editing. Helen agreed to raise the issue with Sean. In the mean time she gave me real and virtual addresses where things could be forwarded.

It occurred to me that I might need a permanent office somewhere. I had at least five offices already, but they were really just mail dumps. If I was going to get serious about the production side, I needed an office with live people in it. It would give me something to do while I waited for Sheila's bash. I was at arm's length and I could tell it was shaping into a memorable party. Blessed Mary only knew what was going on under the roof.

Back to the job at hand. I needed an office. That raised the question of where. California was easier. I called the LA office of JP Productions and left a message that I would be needing an actual desk and secretary. Out west, residential property would be the hard part. No one would be open yet, but websites are 24/7. Knowing asking prices gives you an idea of where to make your counter offer. Somewhere in the there I sent still more money Captain Kirk's way. It had really pissed me off when I learned that Shatner was worth more than I was, but I still used his site.

Damn it Schwartz, you have me putting down roots.

Sean:

The night before, seeing Sheila get out of the car had filled me with conflicting emotions. I was elated to see her, but pissed as hell about the way she looked. I had close to carried her to her apartment the week before, twice, and she looked like more of the same. Then she saw me and life was worth living again. I had barely started to ask a question before she shook me off. I looked hard at Russell. He also shook his head.

In the morning, I went down to get the real scoop. I would probably never get the full story, though Bing found me a nice blog write up of the event. Armed with that, I asked Russell what he could tell me. It was not much.

The women went into a surf and turf restaurant, sending him a nice dinner. After they had eaten, they walked across the parking lot to a club. Only an hour later, a flood of people came out of the club. All were either in animated discussions or texting. That had to be where the blog fit in. Shortly thereafter, Jo came out and directed him to a side entrance. Sheila and CC came out, wearing slippers and robes.

Jo and Francine had a showdown over who would do what. That was something I would pay money to watch. Eventually, they moved some boxes out of the car, so that the seat would slide all the way back. Sheila rode in the seat. CC knelt on the floor at her feet. That was symbolic enough. Then, Russell related the story of the ice cream stop.

When Sheila had thrown control to the winds, she had wanted ice cream. Given her dietary habits, it had to have special significance. Maybe it was because of her dietary habits. Since Sheila was not wearing her foundation, it probably symbolized letting go. Come to think of it, Sheila had not been wearing her foundation when I took her the week before. Oh damn.

What Russell said next calmed me considerably. After they had left the ice cream place, CC had put her hand on Sheila's belly. That could be a reference to the lack of corset or the expected baby, probably both. Sheila had told CC that she, CC, would be her support.

I called Gerald. "Gerald. Sean. Russell has been bringing me up to speed about the drive home. You know the undergarment that Sheila dotes on. Russell tells me that CC will taking its metaphorical place when she has a baby. I think we need to move CC's permanent room up the priority list."

Phone: Good morning to you too. Has Russell told you about the smell? Oh shit. I had a feeling I knew what sort of smell was involved. Sheila is a performer and CC is an exhibitionist.

"You are saying that Russell should be commended for his ability to focus on driving under extreme circumstances. Noted. If I hear a word of it from anyone not currently on site, he and you will both be unemployed. Now, don't you have some Class A's to get dry cleaned?" Russell suddenly looked very sick. Gerald's reaction was different.

Phone: Boss, you need to spend time with your fiancée. Her touch is much better.

"Just remember, Francine Martel will be showing Jo how to dance. Focus Gerald."

Phone: Sir, yes Sir. Gerald was right. I can hold my own at verbal dueling. Sheila buries people before the bout gets started. God, I loved that woman. It was too bad she was engaged, heh, heh.

George drove me to work in the Mercedes. For a while, I did not notice the scent. Then, I had trouble ignoring it. Just how often had Sheila come? When I left the car, I told George not to do anything about the odor. It was something of Sheila's and I treasured it.

As had been the case for several days, I was late arriving at work. I was the boss, so I liked to set a good example, but there were limits. If it became an issue, Helen would tell me. As it was, I suspect that most of my people thought I had good priorities. As a practical matter, business had been slow enough to let me slide.

That was changing. Reactions were starting to roll in on several fronts. The easiest to deal with was the University Chancellor, who was gloating about his new e-book. The measured photographs were evidently well received by the academic community. He wanted to discuss a printed edition. I referred him to Curtis, but it started me thinking about Sheila and her "other" skill.

Much of what Sheila did was dictated by her circumstances. Granted, she had the temperament for it, but she was not a dominatrix at heart. When the time came, I could tell that she would be walk away from her studio, with hardly a glance back. Either Jo or I would be better suited for the full time role of Mistress/Master. What Sheila had done on the side, was who she really was. An idea started perking in my head.

After the early call from the Chancellor, I spent most of the morning dealing with the catalog. In a sense, I had been doing so for weeks, but the after publication issues had a very different feel. Mostly, I was getting congratulations, direct or implied, from people that had seen the pictures. I was able to refer 90% of them to Justin Immons. That left a handful that knew or had investigated Justin's work. They needed a different answer.

It came to a head when Columbia Pictures called. It was Ivan Nevski. I did not know the name, but Helen did her magic and a bio popped up as we were doing introductions. One does not brush off one of the top camera people of a major media company. Instead I hemmed and hawed a bit, til Mr. Nevski began to show genuine impatience. Then I fed him a story and hoped for the best.

I told him that Sheila was not yet officially part of the company. We were creating a new Digital Arts division, which Sheila would head. However, there was a complication—Sheila was engaged to be married. She had done the catalog between other projects, on a contract basis. Because of the wedding, Sheila would not be available for any serious work for a couple of weeks. This was why there had been no roll out and press blitz.

Every word I said could be proven in court. The facts may have been arranged in a manner convenient to misunderstanding, but they were still facts. Mr. Nevski recognized the need to walk softly, which I appreciated. The conversation took half an hour, but it ended with me giving him an email address and the promise that Sheila would look at his proposal. By the time I did so, the email was valid.

That done, I called Curtis and told him of Sheila's new status. When his protests were halfhearted, I asked why. Curtis told me he had been working up a position for over a week. He could have papers on my desk that afternoon. I called Emily Lucann. Same song, different verse. Sheila could have an office with three staffers by Monday. I asked Helen if she had expected Sheila to come aboard as a VP. She replied that she had not expected a VP, from the start, but... Sometimes this job makes me feel stupid.

I told Helen to call an emergency meeting of the Board. Since it was business hours, most of the board were at work. Our bylaws permitted a meeting by conference call, provided two thirds of the members were attending. Helen had a quorum rounded up in fifteen minutes.

The meeting was simple. I proposed that Richard's Enterprises create a new division, to be called Digital Arts. This head of division was to be titled Vice President and report directly to the Board—salary at minimum for the level, with bonuses based on billings. The first Vice President was to be Sheila Schwartz. I then informed the Board that Sheila was my fiancée and recused myself from the discussion.

The discussion was minimal. Everyone knew the story behind the catalog. I was not the only one getting positive feedback. Darrel Chase in Auctions and Angela Weeden in Promotions had been gushing all morning, to anyone that would listen. Also, I had done this once before, when I presented Curtis as new Corporate Council. That had worked out well, so I had some goodwill. After about five minutes Curtis called the question. Of the eight members present, seven were in favor and I abstained from voting.

Everything would have to be ratified at the next scheduled meeting, but I officially had a new VP in house, pun intended. By the time the conference call broke up, Helen had a press release waiting for my approval and a placeholder in the corporate website. The crowning touch was the box of business cards she had delivered. There are reasons I like my battleaxe of a secretary.

Next, I needed to tell Sheila that she had a fourth job.

Siobhan:

Christine woke me early. I suspected it was Sheila's usual time. I groaned and pulled myself erect. Christine looked at me expectantly, so I mimed the keyboard. In return, Christine mimed pumping iron. I groaned louder, then dug in bags for some sweats. Only then did I realize that Christine had no clean clothes, unless I counted the fancy ones from yesterday. The workout suit she had worn home would do for a while, but something needed to be done.

Before we left the room, Christine held up the posture trainer. My own mother had never been this much of a nag. I resolved not to gripe. If nothing else, Christine was only reminding me of my own resolutions. I pulled off my top and let her help me put the damned thing on. It was just as uncomfortable as I expected.

We went to the small gym up the hall. Sean tends to treat it as his personal space, but I never asked for a share. God knows I bitched about enough other things. Still, the big gym is a long walk and no one was in the room. Christine went straight to the pad and started stretching. I lowered myself to the pad and tried to mirror her. In fifteen minutes I was sore all over and sweating heavily. I never knew stretching was work.

After the workout, we showered. I called for Sheila's location and found she was checking out progress in the old house. I wanted to see that myself. On the way I told Christine that our house had its own version of a rabbit hole. She was properly appreciative. We found Sheila in the Ballroom, where she was getting a reprise of the previous day's work. I nodded to the brothers Gilbert. They suddenly had something else to do.

Sheila was just as smooth and gracious as always, but something was off. She collected Christine and told me her schedule. Her first stop would be for a job interview. She had a young man that might be trained as her replacement. The way Sheila said replacement told me that she wanted to never go back to sessions on a schedule. I felt exactly the same way about teaching undergrads.

When the interview was complete, she would leave CC to help close up the shop. I was contributing Jasper and Joleen to that project, partly because they had shown the least interest in the projects at the house and partly because they had gotten really smashed on the way back from the airport. As a rich brat myself, I felt the lack of self control was inexcusable.

I warned Sheila that she was getting potential trouble. It earned me the first smile of the morning. Gerald was delegating Russell as part of the project. Russell was Sheila's semi-official driver because he was, among other skills, an unarmed combat trainer. I did not recognize the other name, but he had Drill Instructor experience and was being considered for additional responsibility. Gerald would not look kindly on problems.

The more I thought about it, the more I recognized that this had Gerald's fingerprints all over it. Sheila was providing a submissive and two unruly rich kids. Gerald was supplying the needed stiffening. Sheila had expected nothing less. It told me something that I would not have figured out for myself. Damn she was good. So was Gerald. Admitting that galled me less than I expected.

Somehow Sheila read that I was thinking about Gerald. She said, "He already conceded our bet." That hit me like ice water. I would have to dance with Gerald at the Reception Ball. Sheila was not finished. "You already know everything you need. Herr Gruber was good for that much. Francine and I will only need to brush you up."

Look up "ambivalent" in your dictionary. My picture might be next to the definition. Ye Gods, where should I begin? Instead I changed the subject. I rummaged through my wallet and pulled out Lars Gunter's card. I said, "I would like to invite someone to your wedding." I was mistaken before. This was Sheila's first smile of the morning.

I asked her, "What's up? You look like Linus without his blanket." Sheila looked embarrassed and CC looked annoyed. While I was trying to wrap my head around the concept that CC thought I was being dense, she patted my stomach. This reminded me of the corset that CC had just finished tying. Oh my God. Sheila did not have her corset. She really was without her security blanket.

I nodded to CC, then said to Sheila, "I stand, rebuked. Changes are always difficult. You have to deal with some big ones." I stopped to catalog a few, starting with my own home. Gods, I had never adjusted to it, just reached a ceasefire. That day, Sheila was going to close up her studio. She and Sean had just started a new business. There was a wedding to oversee. Then there was Sean himself. Sheila did not need me adding to her worries.

Before I could say anything, Sheila flowed into my arms for a family hug. The Richards have many faults, but we give #1 hugs. CC had said that Sheila trusted me. I was holding a demonstration of the fact—while CC was smiling her approval. Normally, the approval of others meant little to me, but I was beginning to appreciate CC's loyalty—and her perspicacity. Her approval mattered, which left me a dilemma.

I grabbed the left horn. "Damn it, do not start crying. We will both be stuck here for half an hour, if you do. You know how much I hate acting like a girl, so suck it up and get to work. I expect to see you back here by one o'clock. How do you expect to have a decent wedding if you never show any interest in the preparations?" Once again, CC grinned her approval. She may be easy to ignore, but CC does not miss much.

Sheila broke the hug and dabbed her eyes, looking somewhat abashed. I would have thought that no one would dare speak to her like that, except she was about to marry my brother. Sean would have delivered the same pep talk almost word for word. No wonder Sheila liked me. I was familiar in a strange environment.

Before I could go all Doctor Richards, Sheila pulled a new persona out of her bag. I mentally dubbed it Bosslady. Elements of Cynthia were clearly present, but the bearing was quite different. This one was exacting and demanding, like Cynthia, but also attuned to style and decorum. It was a public face. Come to that, so was Doctor Richards. We exchanged glances of recognition, then parted.

It was time to turn Doctor Richards loose on my unsuspecting grad students.

Sean:

Life was less interesting before Sheila. Like many things, that cut both ways. Business matters can become dull, but they have a certain predictability. I truly had no idea what to expect when I met the Amish. The only thing I was sure to need was someone to speak to the woman. Accordingly, I text Jo that I was on the way to the house to pick up Evaine.

Of all the remaining grad students, Evaine was the most familiar. She had been the first student I had been introduced to and one of the two that had ridden back from the airport with us. Jo told me that Evaine was studying the Amish culture for her thesis. That made her my best option as a liaison to the Amish women. I did not need Sheila to remind me that wives could sink a project as efficiently as a government.

George pulled us into the garage shortly after 1:00 PM. Talking to one of my mechanics was a woman I did not recognize, until she turned around. Holy shit. My sister Jo has always been tall. Standing straight and wearing heels, she towered. More than that, she oozed authority. Next to her, Evaine looked as compliant as CC, which would be helpful if she kept it up.

I climbed out of the car and hugged my sister. It was strange having a sister that was three inches taller, but I could sense the same old troublemaker inside. I hugged her like this was our first meeting, because it was, in a way. Siobhan thought so too. For about the thousandth time, I tipped my mental hat to Sheila. Jo was my kid sister. Siobhan was my sister the Doctor.

I must have said her name under my breath. Jo could always read me when she was younger. It had taken me years to figure out that she was reading my lips. Whatever the source, her first comment read my mind. "Not you too. Even Francine occasionally uses my real name. CC would if she ever said anything. Speaking of which, have you been chewed out without a word being spoken?" I thought of then Major Harrison and a certain unexploded artillery round. Ouch.

Jo read my mind. Suddenly she was my kid sister again—the one that I could tell anything and trust that no one else would ever hear. "Damn, it's good to have you home. I hope you can stay a while this time." Jo nodded. Then she did a Sheila and turned into someone extremely professional. I took note. At the same time, it occurred to me that Sheila was not the only one that donned roles like armor.

Siobhan reintroduced me to Evaine. I discovered that her last name was Schaeffelker, which would play well with the Amish, even though Evaine plainly hated it. Trust me kid, common names have their own drawbacks. I asked her if she was clear on her role from this point forward. Miss Schaeffelker calmly recited several points, but omitted the part about being my public face among half the Amish community. I cocked an eye at Siobhan, who nodded to accept the baton.