Sometimes Love is Not Enough, Redux

"Beth! Shame on you," Abby exclaimed. "How can you ask such a question? That's not any of our business. So, tell us, Rhonda, how did you?"

We about fell off our stools; we were laughing so hard. I had to take stock. Here we were, five women, sharing secrets and each other's personal lives. Three of us swingers and living a happy, open lifestyle. One of us fighting for a marriage that might or might not work out and me, marriage shot to hell and trying to keep from crying myself to sleep every night. We had formed a bond and I felt lucky to have a sister and three close friends to share life with. We accepted each other's choices and didn't judge or disrespect them. It was a friendship that few people in life are fortunate enough to enjoy. I felt blessed. All I needed now was to win Jim back. I wasn't willing to give up. I would never give up. Somehow, I had to do something to get my man back. I didn't have a clue as to what, but if an opportunity ever presented itself, I fully intended to take advantage of it. I'd follow that man to hell if the slightest chance existed he would forgive me and take me back into his loving arms.

"Okay, I'll tell all if someone will get that frown off of Janice's face," laughed Rhonda.

"Earth to Janice! Wake up," Sue shouted as she slapped the back of my head. "Your shoe is untied."

I instinctively looked at my feet. Sandals! No shoe strings. Looking up, they all simultaneously shouted, "Gotcha!"

"That's better," giggled Rhonda. "Now then, where were we? Oh, yes. Well, Roger's parents are loaded. They turned their business over to us about three years ago. My parents are loaded and they turned their business over to us at the same time. Both businesses are very profitable.

"Our parents became friends at our wedding and have been inseparable ever since. They took a very early retirement and are somewhere in Europe touring old castles now. I think they'll end up on a cruse ship for the Bahamas after Europe and who knows what or where after that.

"Roger owned a health club when we met and I owned three flower shops. Right after we got married, we started an office and business cleaning service. It started operating in the black before the first year was up. Then the opportunity for this club came along and the rest is history. And yes, before you ask, we paid cash for the whole works. Including the club, we now own and operate six businesses and all of them are very profitable. Everything is incorporated under the name of R&R Enterprises. We figure we can do what our parents did in about another five years. Whether we do or not remains to be seen. Right now, we're having too much fun making money."

"What the hell's going on in here!" Roger screamed.

Rhonda, who was standing behind the bar, shrieked and jumped. Beth was in the process of taking a drink and it spewed out of her mouth, showering Rhonda. Sue's glass shattered when it flew from her hand and hit the floor. And me? I had to clamp down real hard to keep from making a mess in my panties. Abby didn't jump at all but instead, slid from her stool to the floor in uncontrollable peals of laughter. She had seen Roger step around the corner and wasn't the least bit surprised by his outburst.

Rhonda started threatening death and damnation. Beth was trying to apologize to Rhonda for the unexpected shower. Sue was trying to apologize to Rhonda for the broken glass. Abby continued her hysterics from the floor and I made a mad dash for the restroom, damning Roger as I passed him. I swear! I've never seen a more satisfied look on a man's face in my life.

Everyone finally settled down, the mess was cleared from the floor and our little hen session was over. Rhonda managed to deliver us home in one piece and we all agreed to attend next Friday's get-together at Brent and Beth's.

Chapter 09

I'm starting to hate Mondays. Just the thought of another long week here was depressing. Arriving at work two hours late normally isn't a good way to impress the boss but at this point in my life, I really didn't care. I almost called in sick but I knew I wouldn't feel any better if I stayed home.

I wasn't anymore than seated behind my desk when Smythe stepped to the door and asked if I was feeling all right. He'd been walking on pins and needles around me ever since our little confrontation a year ago. He's afraid and that suits me just fine. I don't think he will last much longer. I was talking with Nora and Lois the other day and they've heard a rumor that he may be on his way out. I'm sure he was worried about something more important than my health but he chickened out and left without asking whatever it was he really wanted to know.

Lois, who was now my secretary, left a note on my desk to call someone by the name of Gail Preston. Who in the world was Gail Preston and what could she want with me? As far as I could remember, I've never met or talked to anyone by that name. I punched the intercom button and asked Lois to step into my office.

"Good morning, Janice. Sorry I wasn't at my desk when you came in. I was in the break room talking with Nora."

"That's okay, Lois. Any good rumors floating around?"

"No, nothing new today."

"I found your note. Who is this Gail Preston person and why does she want to talk to me?"

"I don't know what she wants but just a minute and I'll show you who she is."

Lois left for a minute and then returned with a book and placed it on my desk. The jacket was dark and showed the silhouette of a running woman. In large blood-red letters was printed, "Nightmare at Midnight." Across the bottom in the same red letters was printed, "A Hera Storm Novel."

"So what's this got to do with Miss Preston, Lois?"

"I think it's Mrs. Preston and she writes under the name of Hera Storm."

"Does she have an account with us?"

"Yes, she does. I think she deals mostly with Walters up in investments."

"Thanks, Lois," I said as I turned to my computer.

I typed in Gail's name and then sat there and stared at her accounts summary page. How had I missed this? We had a celebrity for a customer. Walters was extremely efficient and considering the rate of growth of her investments, he was very good at picking the right stocks and bonds to invest in. Listed down in the notes section was the name of each of her books and what each had made, gross and net. Evidently "Nightmare at Midnight" was her latest effort and had just made the best sellers' list. It was expected to be as big of a hit as the one she received so many awards for almost two years ago.

There was a reference to another account and I punched that into my computer. It was for her husband, Paul. He worked as a sales manager for a major restaurant supply house and from the looks of his earnings and savings records; he was doing very well for himself. His gross earnings last year were well into the six-figure range.

My conversation with Mrs. Preston was confusing, to say the least. She requested me to meet her for dinner at one of our fair cities' finer eating establishments that evening. She was rather vague about why and I debated for a bit before agreeing. She mentioned that it was more in the line of personal business rather than bank related. The fact that she was one of our better customers was the deciding factor.

I called Sue and let her know where I was going that evening and not to worry about fixing supper for me. The rest of the day ended up being the same old boring routine. My first instinct this morning was correct, I should have called in sick.

* * * * *

Gail Preston was a real piece of work. She put me completely at ease the moment I sat down at the table. She had already ordered for us and the rib-eye steak was delicious. The wine was smooth and went with the meal perfectly. We talked about her novels and how much research was required so her stories would be as accurate as possible. I was surprised when she started telling me details of the private, intimate research she conducted for her first best seller so that she could realistically convey the feelings of her characters. It wasn't long after that when she told me a few details of the problems she experienced during the early years of her marriage.

The conversation somehow shifted to me and before I knew it, I was baring my soul to her. I don't know why, but she was easy to talk to and she was a good listener. I suddenly realized that something was on the table that wasn't there when I sat down. It had a little green flashing light.

"What's that thing," I asked, pointing at the small machine.

"Oh, sorry. I should have told you. I never stop doing research for future novels. The tape recorder is much easier than trying to take notes. I assure you, no one but me will ever hear that tape. I sincerely apologize for not asking you first. It's just that I'm so used to doing this that I forgot to mention it. Please, may I leave it on?"

"So, is my name and personal life going to appear in your next book," I asked rather sarcastically.

"No! Never! I only use the recorder to get a feel for your emotions and how you deal with them. If I use any part of your story, it will be so disguised that no one would ever realize that part of the story came from you. I promise!"

She was looking right into my eyes and had such a serious expression on her face. For some strange reason, I believed her.

"Very well, leave it on. If you do use any part of this conversation in one of your books, I would like to read it before it's published."

"That's fair. If you have any problems with it, I'll change it so you're comfortable with it. Now then, you were telling me about one of your female college professors. Please continue."

I did continue. She probed into each relationship, not only for physical details but focusing on the effects to me mentally. I hadn't even told this much to Sue. Gail never showed any emotion or react in any way to the things I told her. She had several questions about my tryst with Wilder and probed deeply into my feelings during and immediately afterwards. I had a very hard time explaining my actions and feelings when I discovered Jim's ring on my panties. Gail never let up. She carefully talked me through each phase and did it in a way that made me feel comfortable talking about it. She did kinda grin when I told her what I did to Smythe and had me go over that part twice. She was very interested in my working relationship with him after our confrontation. I got the feeling one of the characters in her next book would have some of Smythe's traits.

Finally, I was talked out. I had reached the end of my story and we sat in silence, reflecting on what had been said over the past.... Oh, my! I just realized. It was after eleven. Where had the time gone? The waitress had been bringing small platters of finger-food every so often and we were starting our third bottle of wine.

Gail brought me out of my reverie and I almost hit the floor when she said, "If you still want to talk to Jim, I think I know someone who can arrange it."

"What! How? Do you know Jim?"

"Yes, a mutual friend introduced us."

"Is he alright? What did he say? Is he...."

"Easy, Janice, easy. I spent a few hours with Jim the other day. His friend talked him into telling me his story. If you are still interested, I think his friend can talk him into listening to your side of what happened."

"I would definitely like the opportunity to explain what happened. The thing is, what will he think of me when I do. I'll have to tell him everything, including what my life was before we met. Do you think he will really listen to me and give me a second chance?"

"I don't know, Janice. You've both told me that each of you agreed that what took place in your lives before you met didn't matter. That should be in your favor. What he'll do after your confession, I have no idea. I do know that he thinks you were there with Wilder willingly. I'm almost sure he hasn't any idea that Smythe coerced you into doing what you did."

"Well, if nothing else, I'll at least be able to apologize, tell him how sorry I am and ask for his forgiveness."

"Yes, you will be able to do that. But please, don't get your hopes up too much. There's a good chance that he'll just listen and then leave. He may not change his mind about you at all."

"I know, but I have to try."

Our meeting was over. I thanked her for a wonderful meal and she told me she would let me know when she could arrange for Jim and me to meet. I know she said for me to not get my hopes up but I couldn't help it. I was getting my chance to try and make things right between us and I for sure didn't want to blow it. Sue was still up when I got home and I had to explain everything to her.

Chapter 10

I was positive I was following Gail's directions but I sure didn't like the part of town they were leading me to. Then I saw it. A simple blue neon sign on the front of a building that spelled out Bear's Bar. Gail had called me late in the afternoon and told me if I wanted to see Jim, I should be at Bear's Bar about nine that evening. There were no cars parked directly in front of the door and I did exactly what Gail told me to do. I got out of my car, went in, and handed my keys to a very large man sitting on a stool just inside the door.

I told him my name and he said something into the small microphone clipped to his collar. Two men got off of their stools at the bar and came over to us. He handed one of them my keys and the other led me to one of the large booths against the wall to the right of the door. He pulled the heavy curtain aside and I sat down on a large padded horseshoe shaped bench seat. The curve of the table matched the curve of the seat. He pointed out the two switches on the wall. One of them was a dimmer switch to control the brightness of the overhead light and the other was a call-switch for the waitress.

I was considering calling the waitress for something to drink when the curtain slid aside and a nice young lady handed me a large Tom Collins. How did she know what my favorite drink was? I took a sip and was pleased because the bartender had gotten the mix perfectly.

I was just about ready to try the call-switch to order another drink when the curtain moved and Jim sat down across from me. He just stared at me. No hello, how are you. No how have you been. Nothing but an intense look. I was so sure of myself when I arrived. I knew exactly what I had to tell him but now, looking into his eyes, my confidence deserted me. I felt like I wanted to run, to hide. No! This was my only chance. I had to do this.

"Hello, Jim, you're looking well."

He didn't reply. He just sat there, looking intently into my eyes.

"Thank you for seeing me."

Still no acknowledgement. Did he hate me so much that he wouldn't even say hello to me?

"Please ... Jim ... I'm sorry."

This was a mistake. If he wouldn't even speak to me, he certainly wouldn't listen to me. I knew he was trying to show no emotion at all but I could see the pain in his eyes. Pain that I had caused and I couldn't stand to see him this way. I had to leave. I got up and just as I was opening the curtain....

"Janice. Please sit back down. I agreed to listen. You have my undivided attention. Say what you came here to say."

I just stood there for a moment, trying to calm down. I had to get my emotions under control. I felt like crying but I knew tears would be a waste of time. At least he wasn't yelling at me. His voice was even, emotionless. I sat back down, swallowed the last bit of my drink, and started my speech. There was a spot on the wall just above his left shoulder and I concentrated on that as I spoke.

"Jim, the first thing I must do is apologize to you and I do so now, most profusely. I shamelessly betrayed your trust in me. Worse than that, I have never been even remotely honest with you. My behavior toward you, our relationship, and our marriage vows have turned into nothing but a lie. I should have told you of my past when we first met. I can only imagine the pain and anguish I have brought to you. For this, I am truly sorry. I hope that someday you will be able to forgive me.

"What I am about to tell you is not offered as an excuse for my actions. There is no excuse but you do deserve an explanation. What you are about to hear is not designed to create sympathy for me. Nor is it offered in hopes of us getting back together. I realize now that you were fully justified in leaving and I've accepted that. I have no hope of us ever living together again. Y-you ... you deserve s-s-someone ... someone far better t-than ... than m-me."

Damn it! I was losing my self-control already. The tears I had managed to stop a few minutes ago were bound and determined to make their appearance. Jim turned the call-switch on and a waitress appeared immediately. He ordered me another drink and a beer for himself. I dug in my handbag for a tissue and wiped the tears from my face. What little makeup I was wearing had to be ruined by now but I didn't care. I took a gulp of the fresh drink, fixed my eyes on a knothole above his right shoulder and tried to continue. Why couldn't I look him in the eyes? Maybe I was too ashamed.

"Thank you for the drink. I think I'm going to need it and a few more before this is over."

"You don't have to do this, you know."

"Yes, I do. You deserve to hear the truth."

"Okay, then, I'm listening."

"It all started when I was a junior in high school. My stepfather gave me some adult drinks and then took me to his bed. Mom was visiting her sister that night and didn't get home until the next day. I told her what happened, expecting her to throw him out, just like she did my father. My father beat and abused her. He started on me when I was twelve. She saw the light, called the police and we never saw him again. She remarried a couple of years later.

"She explained that my step-dad was very well off financially and it was up to us to take care of him in any way he wanted. After all, he was taking care of us and was even going to pay for my college education. She told me it wouldn't hurt for me to show my appreciation and be nice to him when he wanted me. Although he had been insistent, he had taken his time and tried to make it enjoyable for me. He didn't come to my bed very often, but when he did, I accommodated him. I even managed to kind of enjoy his visits as time went on. He was always loving and thoughtful, never hurting me physically."

"I'm sorry, Janice, I had no idea."

That little acknowledgement meant so much to me. His eyes and posture had softened just a little. I could do this now and I was able to look him in the eyes as I continued.

"Thank you, Jim. Anyhow, I had a teacher take an interest in me during my senior year of high school. He wanted me and I wanted a better grade in algebra. That's the first time I realized I could use my charms, so to speak, to get something I wanted. I was nice to him and my 'B' became an 'A'. We both got what we wanted.

"I never pursued, or came on to any of my college instructors. However, if one suggested he or she wanted to get to know me better, I co-operated. I always made sure I got something in return. I was lucky in that I had some very good teachers in the art of making love. I also learned how to fake pleasure and an orgasm, when necessary. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I really didn't care. Considering what my step-dad did to me and my mother's attitude, I accepted things as they were and didn't let it bother me."

"Again, I'm sorry, Janice. I don't know what to say."

This was getting easier. He seemed to relax and his voice had lost its edge.

"Thank you, but you don't need to say anything. I went to work at the bank as a junior loan officer right after I graduated from college. I hadn't been there two weeks when a potential investor noticed me while on a tour of the bank. He asked me to have dinner with him and when I looked at the President for guidance, he just shrugged his shoulders and said the decision was up to me. We went to a very nice restaurant, danced for a while and then went to his room. The President stopped by my desk a couple of days latter and handed me a nice bonus check for helping to get that investor's business.