[K][T] and Family Ch. 01

With as much grace as I could I pulled Claudia aside. "Claudia, I will make this quick. A lot has happened. Sean Richards and I are engaged. I came to invite you to the wedding. Also, I suspect the reason How Jones is here is that Sean Richards and I have formed an LLC, which then committed to a neighborhood restructuring coalition. This all happened Monday. I was in the City yesterday, so this is the first chance to tell you, face to face."

Claudia was not pleased, but we were being watched, so she controlled her reaction. With a deep breath, she turned to Mr. Jones. "How, I would like to introduce you to Sheila Schwartz, one of our senior trainers, and something more, as I suspect you already know. I will let her take it from here." Gee. Thanks. Howard Jones was giving me the once over in a very unprofessional fashion.

To get his attention, I said, "Mr. Jones, what would you like to know?" I was not about to give him a straight line. He appeared not to have noticed the question. I tried harder. "Mr. Jones, you came to us. What would you like to know?" I envisioned having him tied to my whipping horse, with a candle under his privates. Then, I let some of my anticipation into my smile. It has been an effective tactic on occasion. Howard Jones was immune to subtlety.

Finally, Claudia sharply said, "Mr. Jones." He looked slightly startled. Claudia ordered, "Either ask your questions or get out. Either way, I am reporting this behavior." Howard Jones managed to pull his eyes off my breasts long enough to look at Claudia. She was very annoyed, but he gave no indication that he noticed. Instead he plopped his butt on Claudia's desk. He opined, "Now I know what bait to use when I hunt Bear. Heh, heh."

That was the end of that interview. Claudia went to the door and called for two of the trainers. They each had one of Howard Jones' arms before he realized he was being thrown out. On the way to the door he made the usual noises about freedom of the press. Claudia retorted that he would not find any news in my bra. There were several cheers when he was shoved through the door. It was a short respite.

Claudia turned to me. This was a situation. I both owed Claudia a favor and needed to get a story to the Beacon quickly. First things first. "Claudia, this is going to be rushed. I promise a full explanation later, but I have to beat Howard Jones to his editor. I am getting married Saturday, to Sean Richards, and you will receive an invitation. There will be a ball. Do you want to attend the formal dance?" Claudia's eyes went wide, then she shook her head. I continued, "Alright. The wedding will take place on the Richard's family grounds, by the lake. There will be a lot of outdoor activities. Bring your significant other and have a good time.

"Concerning the business, Sean has formed a real estate group to renovate this area. Much of it will be conversions, not unlike this building. An impressive list of people attended. If you want detailed information, call Harlan Lipton. Tell him I gave permission and will sign any necessary documents. The reason I was at the meeting is that I own this building. It was a bequest. I started working here because I needed to pay off the bank loan for the renovations. Start working up a presentation to both the property group and XTreme Fitness. A lot of floor space will be available next week, but you will need to fight for it.

"I have to run. Jones can cause trouble unless I get to the paper first. Even then, he does an unsanctioned blog. Wish me luck."

Claudia is is one of the least ethnically oriented black women I have met. She set that aside for a moment and said, "Girl, you don't need luck. Where'd ya learn a chiller like that? I wasn't even the target and my blood went cold." What could I say? "Claudia, you do not want to know. Trust me that much."

I went back through the rabbit hole and logged into one of my GM accounts. I sent a letter to the Beacon's senior editor, explaining that Claudia Johnson, Senior Manager, had been forced to evict Howard Jones for inappropriate behavior. I referred him to Harlan Lipton for official news and promised a statement from Sheila Schwartz. It ought to keep the paper in line, but Howard Jones had other outlets. I forwarded the message to Gerald, Sean and Helen. Sitting unread in my email stack were notes from Sean and Helen about my new position.

When I emerged, my work crew had arrived. I gave Christine and Jason a hug, then headed for my apartment. It turned out to be a good thing I was dressed down. Outside my apartment were three different reporters. One, who also had a photographer, was from a bridal magazine. As I was dressed, I could realistically beg off pictures. I thought it was funny that a bridal magazine was interested in me and said so. Evidently, that was quotable.

Another reporter was from the Beacon, also wanting a story about the wedding, but in a broader theme. He wanted to know about the Sean and Sheila story. That was not something to be told simply. I said that the relationship had progressed quickly. Sean was trustworthy and I was not one to trust easily. We hit it off from the start, but that working together had been critical.

The third was a free lancer, who jumped on that. He wanted to know about what we worked on together. I stopped, turned and gave him my full attention. He did not flinch, but one of the other reporters swallowed audibly. Speaking very distinctly, I said, "What, exactly, do you think I am at liberty to tell you?"

When that brought no response, I took the three of them into my gaze. "I think that will be all for now. We have a photographer, Justin Immons of Immons' Images. Richard's Enterprises can put you in contact with him. Good day." As I went up the steps to the apartment building, one of them said, "That cat has claws."

Once in the apartment, I took a deep breath, then went to my curio chest. I needed gifts for my bridal party and buying something seemed so cheap. I wanted something of personal value. Siobhan was easy. I had a set of lacquered brass hair pins, from the early Qing Dynasty, circa 1650.

Looking through my things, I realized many of them were oriental. I had a silk fan from the Shogunate period of Japan. Most of my hair pins were from the Far East. As was my kabuki makeup kit. That would do for Francine. Kabuki is all male, which she would know. For Francine, the gender bending would be part of the fun in the gift.

For Christine, I went a different direction. She would receive the sunglasses I had her wear at the mall and a tube of Cynthia's trademark lipstick. Christine would understand both parts of the gift. The sunglasses indicated that I would accompany her at need. The lipstick said that I would mark her when desired. I suspected I would be using that lipstick years after my other clients were gone.

While I was in the apartment, I went to get my other corset. All my clothing had been removed and taken to the Residence. However, they had missed the laundry and the dry cleaning hampers. I took out an overnight bag and stuffed everything in, except the corset. That I could carry under my clothing. There was a comforting sensation when I hooked up the busks.

It had only been a few minutes, so the reporters were still in front when I came out. In spite of my wishes, they took pictures of me carrying my luggage. I told them exactly what was in the suitcase—dirty lingerie and things for dry cleaning. One of the perks of the Residence is dry cleaning on site. I even opened the overnight bag to prove it. This earned me a laugh and some goodwill, which I needed after slapping one of them down earlier. It also beat explaining a tube of red lipstick.

My phone rang. It was Sean.

Chapter 2 -- Fanning the Flame

Interlude: 25^thAnniversary

Cindy:

Mom says it never pays to alienate anyone, but sometimes it happens in spite of your best efforts. You deal with it. Dad says that Mom is being too lenient. Sometimes it is best to throw a nosy reporter to the wolves. Whenever Dad says something like that, which is often, Mom will ask if he means the wolves, or a bear. Dad never replies, but he also never apologizes.

Wednesday, 4:35 PM ET—Press Release, Richards Enterprises

Richard's Enterprises is pleased to announce the new Division of Digital Arts. The new division will draw on Richard's Enterprises long history of events promotion and auction support. The new Vice President and Director of Digital Arts is Sheila Schwartz, who will assume her position beginning June 12^th. Full operations are expected to begin by the end of June.

Wednesday 5:12 PM ET—nevskii@columbiapictures.net

Aaron,

I finally ran down the Sheila Schwartz mentioned in the catalog. Attached is a press release naming her the new Director of Digital Arts, whatever that means. This feels put together on the run, but Richard's Enterprises is a long time firm with a good reputation. If they are willing to build a division around one person, they must know something.

I tried to contact Justin Immons, but he is out on location. I talked to his assistant Peter Grayson, who is also listed on the catalog. His part was the matting of the pictures. He specifically mentioned the credits page, because he had to keep two security from showing. With that context, it's nice work, which I told him. You know what that would mean to an ordinary photo geek. He said thanks, but he had seen true artistry and he was not on her level.

Something is weird, but I think it is worth pursuing. I was invited to send three high resolution stills. What have we got to lose? She will not be cheap, not if they bill her as a Vice President, but we would be a hell of a feather in their hat.

BTW, I talked with Zimmer again. He said the inquiry came from Francine Martel, the Broadway dancer. She owns a chunk of JB Productions and is looking to get more involved in that side of the business. Dave said she is flying out to look over some real estate. Give her a call. She might do a face to face.

Wednesday 5:19 PM ET—wilsonrandall@uniquebride.com

Bob,

I met the bride. Attached are some pics, but nothing we can use. From the look of things, she was getting the last of her clothes, the dirty ones, from her apartment. She is attractive enough in workouts. I am dying to see her in a gown.

The wedding site is impossible to reach. Security is movie star tight. The location is an old country estate, dating back to colonial times. Some old newspaper photos of the house are also attached. Evidently, there was an addition in the 60s, so this part has been in disuse. Not this weekend. All that old woodwork is getting cleaned and polished. The grounds will be laid out for a party. There is a rumor of a bunch of horse drawn carriages coming out of town about an hour ago. I am looking into that.

I contacted Richard's Enterprises about getting admission to the event. They said pictures would be available through Immons' Images of Philadelphia, but nothing about press access. This wedding is unique in more ways than usual.

Wednesday, 7:17 PM ET--broadway.com/divawatch/martel

Yesterday I asked the question, where is Francine Martel? According to my sources, she is in LA looking at residential real estate. Is the diminutive diva moving to Tinseltown?

Wednesday 7:31 PM ET—janice.springer@coxandhart.com

David,

Richard's Enterprises put out a press release, naming Sheila Schwartz as VP of the newly created Digital Arts division. It looks like they think she walks on water. Given the results of the catalog, I am not about to disagree.

It gets strange. I talked to the local paper's financial reporter, How Jones (yes, he is that cheesy). He said she is nothing but a personal trainer, who is built like a Vegas pole dancer. She is marrying Sean Richards on Saturday. They brought in a bunch of Amish horse carts for the event, which made a short spot on the NBC news. The whole town is talking about it.

Let me know if you want me to dig further.

Wednesday 7:11 PM ET—costellof.centraljerseybeacon@clearwire.net

Rick,

I am holding a catalog that Richard's Enterprises put out on Monday. It is from their auction division and smoking hot. The auction is strictly high dollar erotica. I am not into tied up guys, but the cover shot of this thing pulled me up short. I do know photography. This pic is already making waves and it will be making a lot more.

A couple hours ago, Richard's Enterprises named Schwartz the head of a new Digital Arts division. Seeing this catalog, that makes perfect sense, but not everyone is taking it that way. I am at Harry the Bear Sports Bar. There are at least two stringers and three or four free lancers. Some are here about this catalog. Some are here about the wedding. How Jones is holding court, telling everyone that Schwartz is a gold digger that latched on to Richards.

Here's another thing. Every reporter in town has heard of Mistress Cynthia. She's the bogey man. No one has seen her, but it has been worth a couple of careers to go looking for her. There is a picture of her in the catalog and she is listed in the credits—along with Sheila Schwartz. How does that top your wedding cake?

There's more. Francine Martel has been seen around town lately. She evidently took Schwartz into the City, to have a girls bachelor bash at one of her restaurants. It turns out Martel and Schwartz have known each other for years. Remember Oskar Gruber? That place. Schwartz was quite the star for Gruber ten years ago, even more than Martel. There is years difference in their ages, but the two seem to be tight.

There is some weird shit going on.

Wednesday 7:21 PM ET—nevskii@columbiapictures.net

Aaron,

Color me convinced. I sent Sheila Schwartz three still shots from our problem child. Half an hour later I get an email back, with a dozen clips, crops and enhancements. She took one wide shot and overlaid it with her crops, highlighting where each came from. There was nothing any of our techs could not do, but the eye is uncanny. It lays the scene out better than the dialogue, for damn sure. We could use it as the poster art. It's that good and this was a quick reply.

Get serious with these people. Now. I mean it. It will not take much of this to save that whole picture.

Chapter 3—Security Concerns

Interlude: 25^thAnniversary

Cindy:

The horse and buggy caravan had one helpful aspect. It focused attention on the preparations. Once again, owning the caterer proved useful. Dad went to work on Thursday prepared to do damage control. Instead, most of the reporters wanted to talk to the Events people. Jeff Winston appeared on the morning shows, since Mom would not even consider it. Rick Williams made the media contacts that started his career in politics.

Sean:

If I were to choose a really unusual day out of my life, much of that two weeks would qualify, but Wednesday before the wedding stands out. Getting calls from Hollywood heavyweights is unusual enough, but launching new divisions—with no people in them—is downright strange. That does not even count the Amish or the fact that I had a circus growing on the lawn. By the time Sheila came home, I was ready to leave for some fresh air.

Naturally I could not do it quite that quickly. I met Sheila at her car and gave her a big hug. I told her that I was going crazy and felt like a drive. Sheila said that she felt like dressing up for dinner, but not in New York. There were three or four places in Trenton, or just across the state line, that fit that description, plus there are some five star places in downtown Philadelphia. I asked for a cuisine and she said surprise me. The Lotus Blossom would do just fine.

I led Sheila out to meet the Amish. Without my asking, she faded back a step. I introduced her to the two Elders Neufeld. Sheila nodded politely. Evaine came up. Sheila spoke quietly with her for a moment, then indicated she was done for the moment. I thanked the Elders for their time and said that I would be more available the next day. Elder Josiah told me that Sheila seemed plain. Among the Amish this is praise. I said that she was many things—at need.

We went into the house through the front entrance. Sheila nodded at several things, but made no comments. In the Foyer, where the bar was set up, Sheila inquired about the small keg rack. I told her that this was for a keg of Irish style whiskey. She just nodded. Something was on her mind.

We went up to the bedroom. Sheila immediately threw off her workout clothes. While I had seen her in them several times, this was the first where I sensed distaste. Add that to a request for a dressy restaurant and you get a sense of lingering dirt. Who or what had made Sheila feel sleazy? It was at that point that I noticed that Sheila was wearing her corset. The strings were loose, but I could fix that for now.

I told Sheila to grab a door frame. I carefully drew her already tiny waist even smaller. Then I put my hands to her waist and lifted her. I finally had her attention. It was only a few steps to my desk, which had a chair pulled out. I carried her there and stuck my foot on the chair. Not giving her time to anticipate me, I lowered Sheila to my knee and put my hand on on her upper back to keep her there. My other hand roughly shoved her panties down, then gave her three good swats on each cheek. Sheila never made a sound. When I set her on her feet, she winked at me. I will never understand this woman.

I told Sheila that I had chosen oriental dining and inquired how familiar she was. She was very unfamiliar. When I thought about it, that made sense. There is not a decent oriental restaurant within 30 miles. We have to make do with buffet joints that will cook to order. Sheila would prefer properly done simple food to that sort of thing. I said that we would be kneeling on cushions, so dress appropriately. It was at that point that we were told that the Amish had made the six o'clock news nationwide. It was probably a good thing that we were going out.

The drive to Philadelphia is not long in miles, but substantial in aggravation. This was one of the reasons I was letting George do the work. It also gave me a chance to chance to talk to Sheila. I just hoped she was ready to talk to me. If nothing else, I could be a warm body to lean against. Maybe teddy bear was not the worst job in the world.

Besides, I had not had good sushi in weeks.

Siobhan:

No one ever told me that life would be fair. I never stopped hoping for an occasional small justice, but generally my hope has been disappointed. That was why it was so fulfilling to see Sean wrap his whole being around Sheila. Spying on Sean is an old habit of mine, dating to early childhood. When he noticed me watching, he usually winked, so avoiding the wink became a game. The habits have stood me well in academia, where observation is critical.

Sheila was melancholy. She tried hard not to show it, but the evidence was clear. Lord knows she had good reason. The changes in her life were daunting. Whole phases were being forcibly shut down. To be sure, other, better phases were opening up, but that was the future. Sheila was mourning her past, indeed her whole life. I heard her tell Sean that she wanted to dress for dinner. That fit perfectly.