A Very Special Guy Ch. 03

I was sitting by the pool at Gordon's condo complex -- our condo complex I kept reminding myself -- looking down at my ring. It wasn't a big diamond, but it was my diamond. I had gotten married and graduated from college the same month.

My graduation from Broward meant a lot to Mom and Dad -- I was the first one in our family with a college degree. They were so happy and they kept saying how proud they were that I had paid for it myself. "Worked her way through college." They said, over and over. Each time they said it, I said a silent prayer that they never found out what kind of work I was doing. I'd been a hooker on Miami Beach.

I had gotten out of the business when I met a very special guy. My Gordon. God how I loved him! I'd do anything he asked me to do. And I'd do whatever I had to do to keep him. In fact, I'd already done it! Sitting next to me by the pool was my very close friend Gloria, another veteran of the world's oldest profession, who saved up a big stash and turned straight. She'd helped me to deal with a former customer who threatened to break up my engagement to Gordon.

That former customer was a senior partner in Gordon's accounting firm but he couldn't squeal on me now because we'd made a video of his escapades with a couple of hookers -- actually, a couple of ex-hookers. And if his bitch of a wife ever got a copy she would take Walter for everything he had in a big divorce. She was a real bitch. She was the reason he was hiring rent-a-pussy when he met me in Miami last year.

Gloria had been Maid of Honor at my wedding in Orlando several days after my graduation. We chuckled about that -- two ex-hookers in church -- both dressed in virgin white. Gloria wanted to get out of Miami and she had decided to come to Knoxville for her new start and she had leased a condo in the very fancy complex where Gordon had his place. I think Gordon was impressed when she wrote the check. He said something about how well paid cocktail waitresses were in Miami.

Gloria had good training and experience as a secretary before she changed professions to get a better income, and now she was hoping to get a job with Gordon's firm. If fact, she might actually become Gordon's secretary, since his gal had taken a leave for pregnancy and might not be returning. We were talking about this as we sat by the pool.

"Your guy's damn good looking," said Gloria. "I can keep an eye on him for you."

"Don't be silly Gloria! Gordon would never stray."

"Sweetie pie," Gloria said, "knowing what you and I know about husbands from up close and very personal experience, you ought never to say something that dumb. My guess is that there's a bevy of broads at the firm who would be eager to spread their legs for him."

"I doubt that," I said.

"Who was he banging before he met you?"

"I don't think he was ... I mean ... well"

"You said he was a damn good lover. Where'd he learn it?" Gloria asked.

"Yes, but ... " it was hard for me to think about Gordon pumping away between some girl's legs.

"He had to learn it somewhere," Gloria said with certainty. "It's nice to spot the competition before they spot you."

Gloria got me to thinking. She was right of course. I wasn't the only broad who saw what a special guy Gordon was. Over the next two weeks, as I went through the interview process in applying for a job as an associate at the firm, I began to have thoughts about each attractive woman I met -- and there were a large number of them -- all soft spoken southern gals who seemed so innocent, but who would cut your heart out if you got in their way.

I got the job. My degree in business helped but I think the clincher was Walter's recommendation. I was at the bottom of the totem pole and at the bottom of the building -- in the basement -- but my job classification was as an accountant, so in time I would get clients and move up. Gloria started almost at once as Gordon's secretary and each evening, over cocktails by the pool she would fill me in.

Early on she gloated, "I was right! All the girls say Gordon was the prime catch in the company. He fucked a couple of gals for a few months each, but the only one he spent any time with was Margie Cooper. She's the gal with the long legs and the big tits, who works the main reception desk. They were a thing for almost a year."

I had seen her tits. I had seen her long legs. The thought of Gordon between them caused my belly to feel funny.

"Was he in love with her?" I asked.

"He was fuckin her -- big time -- but no honey, he was not in love with her. The girls say she proposed to him and he turned her down -- that's when they broke up."

"Shit!" I said. "He was just fucking her and ... "

"Sweetie pie," Gloria cooed softly, interrupting me, "You gotta stop thinking that way. It's not good for you. Don't you remember anything you learned about men. Men like to fuck!"

I shook my head. "Gordon's not like that. I know he's not."

"Gordon is a man. And if you're serious about keeping him, don't forget that. Remember why we always had so much business?"

"Yes, I remember," I said.

"Tell me why," Gloria demanded.

"Gordon's not like that," I repeated. I just couldn't think about Gordon that way.

"Tell me why," Gloria demanded again.

I sighed. "Because they didn't get enough good pussy at home. But Gordon's not ... "

Before I could finish, Gloria said, "Gordon's a man! Don't forget it."

After that conversation every time I passed Margie's desk I couldn't help eyeing her tits and legs and feeling jealousy. I didn't have any clients of my own yet but I had fit in well with the firm doing a lot preliminary work to get stuff ready for the senior partners.

Gloria also did well. Gordon said she was an excellent secretary and she got several invitations to dinner from really nice guys -- the kind she left Miami to meet. On more than one occasion I noticed Gordon talking to Margie at her workstation and each time I felt a pang of jealousy. I confessed my feelings to Gloria one night by the pool.

"I can't help the way I feel, knowing that he fucked her for a year," I said.

"Don't worry about it," said Gloria. "Just give him what a man needs at home and do it a lot."

The next afternoon, late, I had to take some files from my basement office to the top floor, and coming back as I stood waiting for the elevator, I looked casually out the window. I saw Gordon talking to Margie in the parking lot. It was more than a casual conversation. Then he took her in his arms and she pressed her face to his chest. My heart almost stopped. When I got on the elevator it took forever to get to the ground floor. I ran out to the parking lot, but they were gone.

I rushed back to his office looking for Gloria and she was not there. Neither was Gordon. I asked the secretary in the next office where Gordon was and she said he left early. I had no idea what was happening but it was obviously bad. I didn't go back to my office.

I went home hoping to find Gordon there. The condo was empty. I went down to Gloria's condo and she was not there. I called her cell and then Gordon's cell and got no answer. Then I sat down in the living room and started to cry. Then I started to drink. I drank a lot.

It was after midnight when Gordon came home. He had on his dress shirt without a coat or tie. His hair was messed up. And there was lipstick all over the front of his shirt. He saw the expression on my face and got a puzzled look on his. I had a sick feeling in my stomach. I walked up to him.

I slapped him across the face as hard as I could and shouted, "Get out of here you bastard! Get out!"

Then I raced out and headed down to Gloria's condo. Gloria looked at me with surprise when she opened her door -- I had pounded on it as hard as I could. She had obviously just gotten home herself and was putting her things away.

"What's the matter?" Gloria asked. "What the hell's wrong?"

"It's Gordon," I said. "He's been out with Margie and he's got lipstick all over his shirt."

Still puzzled Gloria said, "Didn't Stella get down to your office and tell you where we were going? She was on her way there when we left."

"Nobody told me anything," I said. "I didn't go back to my office after I saw Gordon kiss Margie in the parking lot."

"You saw what?" Gloria shouted.

"I saw Gordon kiss Margie in the parking lot," I repeated.

Gloria began to treat me like I was crazy. "Just sit down and calm down. I'd get you a drink but it looks like you've had several already."

I did what she asked. She sat down opposite me.

"In the first place you didn't see Gordon kiss Margie in the parking lot!"

I knew I wasn't wrong about that. "I did! I saw it! He took her in his arms!"

Gloria nodded. "That's right, he took her in his arms and he held her. But he did not kiss her. I was standing not ten feet away. Didn't you see me?"

"The only thing I saw was Gordon holding Margie. And Gordon just got home and it's after midnight." I was crying now -- sobbing. "He's got lipstick ... "

"Just listen to me Geri." Gloria interrupted. "Stop crying and listen to me. About three this afternoon Margie got a call from her father. Her mother had had a stroke or a seizure or something bad and was rushed to the hospital. The doctor thought she might die. They live up in the mountain country -- in Highlands. No way could Margie drive those winding roads at high speed. She asked Gordon for help. She was about to collapse."

"I sent Stella to tell you what was happening. Gordon drove and I sat in the back seat with Margie. Gordon drove like hell, but he's from here and he knows mountain roads. When we got there her mother was still alive but in a very serious condition. Gordon and I left and drove back here. Margie's mother is in bad shape -- probably won't make it. Margie is devastated of course."

I took a deep breath and tried to collect myself. "You were with them the whole time? They weren't alone together?"

Gloria shook her head. "Oh My God! Geri don't act crazy! Margie was devastated. I was there the whole time. Nothing happened between Gordon and Margie except he held her in his arms several times and comforted her when she started to cry."

I sat there feeling drunk and a wave of nausea swept over me. I was afraid I was going to be sick. I was behaving like a little fool. A hysterical fool! I had been so jealous of Margie for the past month that I couldn't think straight. I sat there collecting myself, until a horrible memory hit me.

"Oh my God Gloria. I slapped his face and told him to get out. Then I ran down here."

Gloria took my arm and helped me stand up. "Then we better go up there and hope he didn't listen to you."

When we got inside our condo, Gordon was not there. There was a note on the hall table. I picked it up and a chill went through my body.

The note read, "Gone back to help Margie. Will call when I know something. Gordon."

Gloria read the note. "Well honey, you did it to yourself. Now, I'm gonna give you a piece of advice. And you'd damn well better take it. Do not think about Margie. Do not wonder if he's gonna fuck her. And keep reminding yourself, that if he fucks her, you drove him to it. And even if he does fuck her, you still haven't lost him. Can you do that?"

I didn't know if I could do that. I hated that bitch so much I couldn't even feel sympathy for her mother's illness.

"I don't know," I mumbled.

"Well you better try honey, if you want to keep him, that is. Margie may still be in love with him. And if she is, she'll fuck him if she can -- wouldn't you? You know damn well you would. Gordon is basically a very nice man. With him up there this thing could go from giving her support and comfort to giving her something more. And if it does it's your fault. If he loves you he's not gonna leave you unless you drive him away. If you worry more about him fucking Margie than about you fucking him, then you're gonna be in deep shit."

I just stood there crying and thinking about Gordon with those long lovely legs wrapped around his back and those big beautiful tits bouncing as he fucked her.

"You're not listening to me Geri. You're thinking about Gordon fucking Margie. You gotta stop that. He loves you. She feels bad. So what if he does give her a sympathy fuck. So what! You won't lose him unless you drive him away and the best way to do that is to show him that you're an angry, jealous, little bitch. A man doesn't fall out of love with one woman just because he fucks another one. Understand men! You're a pro! Remember -- don't act like a jealous bitch!"

I tried to reach Gordon the next day and couldn't. Cell phones didn't work well in the mountains. Fortunately Gordon called Gloria about some office business and she explained my behavior to him. He was still very upset when he called me at home that night.

"I'm sorry you got the wrong idea, honey. But, I still can't figure out why you think I'd do something like that. You really think I'd fuck Margie?"

How could I answer that? Yes I thought he might fuck Margie, but no way could I tell him that now. I heard Gloria's voice in my head and I tried to forget about Margie. I just tried to convince Gordon that I loved him and I'd had too much to drink. I didn't do a good job. I was too damn jealous.

Gordon stayed with Margie for several days. I was afraid to ask him where he slept. When he got back things were not the same. I kept trying to get him to fuck me and he did, but not very passionately. I talked to Gloria about it and she agreed that I had a problem.

The next weekend there was a party at the club and after dinner Walter asked me to dance. He was very polite and respectful -- not a word about forcing me to have sex with him to keep my secret. Gordon danced with Walter's wife. They were laughing and seemed to have a lot of fun together. They danced several times that evening and they talked a lot.

That night as Gordon and I sat on the balcony sipping Macallan-12, Gordon said the strangest things about Walter's wife.

"I have always felt sorry for Susan because Walter treats her so badly. She's a real nice person, she's beautiful, and she tries to be a good wife, but he won't let her."

Susan was a bitch. What should I say? "I don't know her that well. But you're right about one thing -- Walter does not treat her very well."

The next two months were the unhappiest months of my life. Margie had returned after two weeks. Her mother had recovered, but was not doing well. Gordon had made another overnight trip to see her mother and to drive Margie back to town. I didn't say a word -- Gloria kept telling me not to think about Margie. Gordon had spent five or six nights at Highlands and I had no idea where he slept or what his relationship to Margie had been. I was sick with jealousy and fear. Now he just fucked me when I initiated it. I tried to conceal my jealousy but I was sure Gordon knew how I felt.

The only person I could talk to was Gloria and I picked her brain every time I got the chance. One evening down by the pool I broke more bad news to Gloria.

"He's taking Margie back to see her mother next week," I said. "They'll be gone several days. He's fucking her Gloria -- I know he's fucking her."

"You don't know for sure," Gloria responded, "and even if he is, the last thing you want to do is get in a fight over it. Don't think about it. That green monster will tear you up inside. It'll make you act strange -- Gordon will notice. You haven't lost him yet and I don't think you're going to, unless you act like a bitch. Let him fuck her if he wants to. Just don't think about it."

"Is he seeing her here?" I asked. "I mean is he gone from the office during the day?"

Gloria hesitated, and then seemed to make a decision. "I haven't told you, but yes he is gone more than I would have expected - some long lunches and some afternoons. I don't know where."

"So he could be seeing her?" I felt that pain in my stomach again.

"It's possible," Gloria said. "Has he started fucking you more?"

"Only when I initiate it. He never starts it. Something's wrong! What the hell am I gonna do?" I felt tears in my eyes.

Gloria sat there thinking for a moment. "You've got some choices, honey. First you could do nothing and wait. Second you could try to get him to talk about it. Third you could hire a private dick and have him followed when he leaves the office. My advice is to do nothing. If he is fucking her, just pretend it's not happening. Gordon is a nice guy. Don't start trouble. Don't be a bitch. That's the only way you'll lose him."

The next Friday, I was dropping off some numbers that I had put together for one of Walter's big accounts and when I entered his office he said, "Have a seat Geri. You and I need to have a talk."

His voice had a no nonsense tone. I sat down and said, "What about."

"Ordinarily I would be more circumspect," he said, "but in view of our past history I think the best thing to do is say it flat out."

"Say what flat out?" I asked.

"Your husband is fucking my wife."

I wanted to tell him that my husband was fucking Margie and I doubted he had time for both women. But I just sat there, nodded, and waited for him to continue.

"You don't seem surprised," he said. "Why not?"

"Well, he hasn't been himself for a couple of months," I said.

"It figures," Walter continued. "You and I have a past that needs to be kept quiet. This thing could get dirty and the last thing we need is for our story to come out. I have had a private detective follow my wife for a month and she's been meeting your husband maybe twice a week for long lunches. They met twice at a small fishing camp I own a few miles out of town. They spent an hour or two there. I think he's fuckin her."

What the hell did I have to lose? Tell him. "Well he sure hasn't been fucking me for the past two months."

Walter nodded. "I want to use this thing in a divorce. I want to get rid of that bitch. But if things get ugly what are you gonna do with that damn video?"

"Hold off a couple of days Walter. I need to think about this. I had no idea Gordon was involved with your Susan. Do you have all the things you need to prove it -- dates, times, places, pictures?"

"Yeah, I got 'em all. Everything except a picture of him shoving it in, and I won't need that."

"I'll talk to you again on Monday. We have to work together on this," I said.

That night I told Gordon I was going down to Gloria's condo and over a glass of Macallan-12 I told her the whole story.

"It's for sure he's not fucking 'em both," Gloria said. "Yeah, he goes out just like Walter said, maybe twice a week. I don't know what the hell he does."

"The only thing I can do now is talk to him," I said. "I've got to sit down and ask him what he's doing."

"Good luck Geri," Gloria said. "Can I help?"

"No. I have to do it alone."

I went back upstairs and Gordon was sitting in his favorite chair sipping Drambuie. I poured myself a glass and sat down.

"We have to talk," I said.

"What about?" Gordon asked looking a bit wary.

"Walter called me into his office today and told me that you were fucking Susan. Are you?"

He didn't bat an eye. He poured himself some more Drambuie, took a sip, and leaned back in his chair. His voice was calm. He was in control.

"First I was fucking Margie. You haven't stopped thinking about that, have you? It's been haunting you. It's getting to you. You're lousy in bed -- all mechanical like a machine -- no loving. I can read your mind Geri! You're thinking, 'Tire the bastard out so he won't fuck Margie.' Now answer me -- that is what you have been thinking when we fuck isn't it?"

Oh my God. He's right. That's exactly what I'd been thinking. Shit! I'm a pro. And I can't even please the man I love in bed! Tears started to flow but I refused to sob. Gloria was right when she told me to pretend it wasn't happening. I lowered my head -- not looking at him.