Terrible Taste In Tees

"She's almost as irritating as Bree. Call her first. How about my club at eight? That way, we'll have some privacy."

"Great. See you then."

I took a breath, and called Les.

"Have you driven us bankrupt since I've been gone?"

She actually squealed.

"Chris! I'm glad you're back. You are back, right? And for your information smartass, I picked up another licensing deal. Another three to five percent bump. We're just getting richer and richer. Now when are you coming in?"

"Monday. I still have some calls to make, a few people to see."

"I take it you haven't talked to her yet. She came over three or four times. Called me a liar when I told her I didn't know where you'd gone. Accused me of sleeping with you."

Didn't see that coming.

"How did that go?"

"I laughed at her. Told her, 'Sorry Pot, this kettle ain't black. But to be honest, I kind of like the shine. Now, you gonna leave, or do I need to call the cops?' She cussed all the way out the door. Come back, Chris. It's your company, we need your vision. Oh, and the new shirts are selling like mad. I've named it the Eros line. You've made Bree famous. Got any more in the pipeline?"

"Not right now. See you Monday."

I called Sherry. She seemed guarded when she answered.

"Chris, how are you?"

"As good as can be expected. Just wanted you to know I'll need you sometime this month. Nothing big, maybe two girls and a guy. Can you make time for me?"

Her relief was obvious.

"You got it. Send me the details and the time."

"Thanks, Sherry. And I'm sure I don't need to tell you, no Bree. Not ever."

"I understand. I got your letter. Thanks. I just want to say..."

I stopped her.

"You don't have to say it, Sherry. I was outside your office that day you tried to make her stop. It's how I found out."

"Oh God! I wish the whole thing had never happened. I've got to tell you, she collapsed when you had her served. Did you have to do it at work? I think she really loves you."

"Not enough. I have to go. I'll email you the details."

I took a deep breath, steeled my reserve,and dialed the number.

I thought it was gonna go to voicemail. I had changed my number and she wouldn't recognize it. It wasn't actually my regular phone, but a throwaway I got just to call her.

She picked it up on fifth ring.

"Hello?"

"Bree."

It was flat, no emotion, but I was boiling inside.

"Ho-honey?" Her voice was quivering, "is it really you?"

"Yes Bree. It's me. I think we should talk."

She had recovered.

"You sonofabitch! You file divorce papers and disappear, and now you want to fucking talk? How could you?"

I was not in the mood for dramatics.

"Well then, we'll let the lawyers do the talking. Goodbye Bree."

I hung up, counting in my head. I had gotten to six when it rang.

"Hello?"

She was crying.

"Chris! Honey, please don't hang up. I need to see you, touch you. Will you come home?"

"NO. But I will meet you for dinner, tomorrow, The Bistro. Seven. I've already made the reservation. And Bree, there will be no touching."

I hung up, rubbed my head, and tried to relax for a couple hours. Ended up pacing. Twenty three steps, each way.

................................................

Finally, I remembered to call Jay.

"Where the fuck have you been?"

He was almost screaming.

"I got shit we need to go over. We got a call from Obscure Comics. They wanna publish Brunhilde, going all the way back to issue one. And they want a guarantee of a hundred more. After that, they want to renegotiate, maybe buy the whole thing. They're offering a sweet deal, Chris. We could be rich!"

I didn't have the heart to tell him I was already pretty well off. Jay was part of my focus group, an aspiring writer. He even came up with a couple of shirt slogans for me. I paid him upfront and gave him three percent of every sale. He probably made fifteen grand off them in the last four years.

When I was trying to decide what field to pursue, he suggested comics. He couldn't draw a straight line but he had a good imagination. I drew the panel board for a couple of his ideas so he could pitch them to the big three. Marvel, D C, and Dark Horse. I thought they were pretty good, but no one picked them up.

He did a little research, came up with a new idea, and nagged me into drawing and lettering the first three. It featured a woman, a direct descendant of Brunhilde, the famous heroine of Germanic legend. Raped and beaten, she vows revenge and transform herself into a svelte warrior with impressive martial arts skills. Her costume is designed by another rape victim, a bioengineer experimenting with advanced body armor. Think Ironman in a sexier outfit. Her weapons, though light, are state of the art, designed by another male rape victim.

With her support team in place, she stalks the streets of her hometown, fighting crime, especially sex crimes. You can be pretty explicit in a graphic novel, so there was usually nudity, and an occasional sex scene. And of course, lots of violence.

The finished product was modeled after Bree. I made a note to change her facial features a bit, just in case. We could write it in as the result of an injury.

I thought about dropping out several times when my business took off, but with my advanced technology I could draw and letter the whole thing in about three days. And I thought it was neat.

We self published on Amazon, charging 99 cents per issue. It started out slow, but we had developed a pretty good following, usually fifty thousand or so a month. Jay ran the blog and talked to the fans. I was in the background and liked it that way. He was the writer, so he got sixty percent while I took forty. It usually worked out to twenty thousand a month for him, and sixteen for me, and we had to pay taxes on that.

"That's really great news. Have you got someone to handle the negotiations?"

"I thought we'd handle it," he said, surprised.

"Never a good idea, Jay. We could use my firm. They have a whole section devoted to entertainment and intellectual rights. Want me to set it up? They were a big help to me when I started the shirt business."

He seemed reluctant, but agreed to talk to them. I rang off, it was time for my dinner appointment.

................................................

We hugged, got a before dinner drink, and got caught up.

"She's fighting it, Chris. Already got a counselor lined up. Push comes to shove, you may have to go for a few sessions. We'll try to keep the number to a minimum, but if it happens it'll probably be at least ten, but we'll make sure we get to choose who. I don't understand her, man. She went to see Don, he laid it out to her. Denied she had done anything until he showed her the pictures. She doesn't know we have tapes. Said it didn't matter, if she could just talk to you she could straighten it all out. Your appointment with Don is tomorrow at two. He says you shouldn't talk to her without him there."

He paused to see if I had absorbed everything.

"All right. But I've already set up a dinner with her tomorrow. Just to hear her try to spin it. Won't change anything. Just curious, I guess."

"My advice, don't go. It could muddle things, draw it out. Talk it over with Don."

"Thanks J. Now, to change the subject, I need another of your services. Your firm is making a fortune off me. I'm probably sending Anna to Harvard with what I'll be paying you guys."

Anna was his two year old daughter. A miniature version of his wife, Bree and I were her godparents.

"Yale," he said, with a straight face. Then he laughed. "Wanna come over Sunday? Dad will be there and he'd love to see you."

"Sure. Don't know that I'd be pleasant company, but I'll be there."

"Great. Now, what else could you possibly need from us?"

I told him about Jay and what we had been doing together. His eyes widened.

"How many layers have you got? Jesus, four years and I had no clue. I'll set you up with the same guy that got your logos protected. And you know, just as soon as I get home I'm gonna look them up."

"Thanks. It started out as just a favor, but I actually enjoy it. And all I make off of it gets donated to the foundation that loaned me the money to start my business. Wondered how many mes I've already funded?"

He laughed.

"I bet your accountant loves you. Any more gold mines I don't know about, anything else to surprise me?"

I grinned.

"Well, I do have a showing at the Edmussen Gallery next month. Me and two more artists. You should get your invitation next week."

"Out! I'm on information overload. Got a cure for cancer perculating in that head of yours?"

"Working on it, in my spare time."

He was still laughing when I left.

...............................................

I know I'm making it seem like losing Bree was easy for me, but it wasn't. As soon as I was alone the brave face slipped off, and I was in misery. Sometimes I railed. Fucking bitch! Then I would cry. I would plot painful revenge. Slash her face, ruin her career. Hook her up with some disease riddled asshole and laugh when the pain came. But I knew I still loved her. I just couldn't live with her anymore.

Her BMW boxer was sitting in the parking lot forty minutes early. I know, because I drove by the restaurant. I made myself wait until precisely seven before I came through the door.

She had gotten us a booth near the back. I appreciated that. She had a glass of wine in front of her, unusual because she rarely drank. Liquid courage, I guess. Dressed to the nines, wearing my favorite colors, hair in a style she rarely wore but knew I liked. As I got closer, I could see she looked tired, and slimmer. She saw me, started to rise, but I waved her off.

I slipped into the booth and waited. I had flagged a waitress and ordered my drink on the way over. Coffee. It appeared before she had a chance to speak. I asked her for about thirty minutes of privacy before we ordered.

I took a sip before I spoke. I had laid my phone on the table.

"Before you start, I need to tell you my lawyer thought this was a bad idea. He insisted if I met you I record the conversation. If you can't agree to that I'll leave now."

The pain on her face was obvious.

"Is that really necessary?"

"It is if you want to talk. You wanted this, so spit it out. What do you need to say?"

She started crying.

"Bree! Stop! If this is all you'll be doing I'll be leaving."

She got herself under control.

"How could you? I never loved anyone like I love you. I thought you loved me too."

"I did, right up until I found out you were loving a lot of others too. I'm not much of a sharing guy, Bree."

"I don't love them! Only you! They were just a diversion, something to do to relieve the stress. They never meant anything, never."

"Stress? You cheated because you were stressed? News flash. You could have packed a couple of toys, taken care of yourself. You think I don't have stress? I'm responsible for the livelihood of over a hundred people. A series of bad decisions, a quirk in the economy, and we're all out of work. And I was just as deprived as you were, there were times when I was around women, attractive women, who let me know they were available. But I never took them up on their offers. I admit there were times I was tempted, but I loved you. LOVED YOU. Get it?"

"It was going to stop, honey. I was coming home to tell you I was ready to quit and start a family. And it was just a few times."

"Bullshit! I have you on tape with your big dicked lover talking about the last year. And Abbie? Never knew you were bi, might have been good information to have before we married. I know a lot more than you think, so don't try to spin anything or we stop talking."

She had her head hanging, face in her hands.

"I'm sorry. I never thought. You don't know what it's like. All those bodies, naked sometimes, rubbing against each other because a lot of times we didn't have much room. The flirting, the innuendos. It all got to be too much. I couldn't stop myself. But I promised myself I would when I quit, devote myself to you and our children. I didn't think you'd find out, and if you did, I was sure my love for you and you for me would over come it. Please honey, let's work this out. I'll never do anything like this again."

"You said you were sorry? Sorry for what? Sorry you got caught? Sorry you destroyed our marriage? You probably are. But I don't think you're sorry you did it. You see, I heard you talking to Sherry the day before you left. How much fun you had. How you'd treasure the secret memories. How even if you got caught you knew I'd forgive you. Really? You honestly thought I'd say, that's all right, honey, I know you love me? How's that plan going?"

"Oh God!" she wailed, while people looked over at us.

"Bree! Calm down, people are staring. I think we're done here. We're through, Bree. You miscalculated. Badly. Learn to live with it. I'm being as fair as I can be with the settlement. You get to keep your dream house. You can keep working, fuck anyone you want without worrying. Your dream life. Goodbye, Bree."

She grabbed my hand.

"Please stay."

I shook her hand off.

"I don't think I can take any more of your lies tonight. One more thing, did it ever occur to you to use protection? At least on the guys? I don't know if they make pussy or tongue condoms. Get tested Bree. I did. And I swear, If I have anything, the divorce will get a lot uglier. Good night, Bree."

I had gotten a little loud, and the closer booths and tables heard my little rant. Bree screamed and ran out of the restaurant. I dropped a couple of twenties on the table. She was gone by the time I got outside.

She emailed and called me constantly for three weeks. I didn't answer them. Got a restraining order when she showed up at the office and the plant and refused to leave. The next week we met with our lawyers.

She looked about as bad as I'd ever seen her. Gone was the aloof attitude, the just right clothes and makeup.

Her lawyer had made outrageous demands. Half the business, all our savings, the house, even my truck.

Don laughed when he was done listing what she wanted.

"Nice fairytale, Jerry. You know damn well the prenupt is bulletproof. He hasn't tried to break hers. And he's being more than generous, and Bree knows it. Let's cut to the chase. What does your client really want?"

We all looked at Bree. She sat straighter, looked me in the eye.

"I want my husband back. I want him to come home and allow me to make up for my mistakes. I want his forgiveness and love. I'll do anything, agree to any conditions. A monitor on my ankle, gps in my car and on my phone. I'll check in every hour on the hour. Hell, I'll even wear a chastity device. I checked online, they actually make them. Please, Chris, please."

She had started crying again.

I put my head in my hands, sighing.

"I don't want a prisoner, or a slave. I want a loyal and faithful wife. Tell you what, why don't you show me a clean bill of health from our doctor, and we'll go from there."

I thought she was going to pass out. I couldn't ask our doctor, but I could get a printout for recent prescriptions from our insurance carrier. Don thought of that one. When I got to one I didn't recognize, he researched it. It had a variety of uses, the primary one being treatment for STDs. She must have picked it on her last trip, I tested clean. She tried to bluff.

"I will, if you do the same."

Don handed her my doctors' report, saying I was void of any STD.

"We'd like you to get tested tomorrow, and expect the test results by next week. Then we'll talk again."

We barely heard her whisper.

"How did you find out?"

"Sometimes, Bree, I get my head out of the clouds. And nobody betrayed a confidence, I found out in a strictly legal way. Even then, I wasn't sure until you just verified it. I'm not moving back, Bree. We're done. Let it go."

Her look was bordering on hysterical.

"No! You have to take me back. You have t..." she broke down in sobs. I felt like shit, even if it wasn't my fault.

Don and I got up.

"I believe we're done for today. Jerry, get her to face reality. Come back to us with something we can live with. Then we'll talk."

.................................................

Despite my letter, Sherry almost fired the whole crowd when the STD scandal hit. Bree, Brandon, Abbie, three more girls and two more guys, just from her agency. I don't know who Big Dick worked for, or who gave it to who initially, but he had to have it, who knows who he may have passed it on to.

The fallout was intense. Brandon was finally in a position where he couldn't blow smoke up his wifes' ass, and she started divorce proceedings. One of the other males almost lost his wife, hanging on by a thread. He had to take an office job. One of the other girls was married, and another had lived with her lover for three years. They both got dumped.

We finally got to go before a judge. He had read the proposals and counter proposals and was leaning heavily in my favor, when Bree gave the performance of a lifetime, falling to her knees and begging the judge to order counseling.

"Young lady, I don't think it will change things, but I like to think all options should be explored if there is even the slimmest chance the marriage can survive. I'll order ten sessions, two individual each, six joint. If the counselor thinks it can be saved we revisit. If they think it can't, I'll grant the divorce immediately. Do both parties agree?"

She thanked the judge, saying she already had one lined up. We were a bit more reticent.

"We'll agree, your honor, with conditions. WE get to pick the counselor, and refuse to do more than ten, regardless of the outcome. My client thinks it's a monumental waste of time, but will go along if it will help finish this up."

The judge looked at me.

"Young man, it sounds like you're not committing to this plan. Are you that certain you won't reconcile?"

"Positive your honor, it's a case of leading a horse to water. If he's not thirsty, he's not gonna drink. But I'll comply."

He rapped his gavel.

"So ordered. I expect a report in no more than fourteen weeks. We'll go from there."

Figuring it was going to happen, we had done a little research. I knew I didn't want a woman, and figured she would balk at a man, so we picked a husband and wife team. One individual session with each, both present during the joint.

................................................

To save a little time, I sent over the DVDs, the audio recordings, and the written reports.

The first session, with the woman, was uncomfortable. She had already had her session with Bree.

"I'm certain she still loves loves you. I saw some of the film, read the report. I'm sure it was brutal for you. But there's some history that you're not aware of, something that may have a bearing on your feelings. We'll explore it in our joint sessions. But if you could look at her situation without getting emotional, it might change your mind."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Without emotion? Marriage is all about emotion. Love. Trust. Commitment. Honesty. Take out emotion and all you have is cohabitation. Tell me, counselor, how do you feel about marriage? Do you believe in open marriage, cuckholdry, that sort of thing? How's your marriage work? Without emotion? That's probably the stupidest thing I've ever heard from someone who's supposed to be a professional."

I looked at the time. Still had five minutes. I stood.

"I'm sorry, but I'm leaving now. Seems I've gotten emotional. And I think maybe I'll look into your backgrounds a little more thoroughly. I picked you based on testimonials from other clients, maybe I made a mistake."

She got a little flustered when I said that, apologized for her statements, said she was trying to do her best for both of us.