Money for Nothing

"Sure. I will transfer it as soon as the contract is signed."

"Get out now."

That made me some kind of anti-prostitute, I thought. I was getting paid for not having sex. At least it was limited to one specific woman, and there were plenty of fish in the sea. I had already started to convince myself that I could easily do without her, didn't love her anymore and had done the right thing.

Of course, Laura was totally unaware of the new agreement. As expected, she stood on my doorstep full of sexual anticipation two days later. Keeping my agreement with Olli in mind and being a man of honor, I immediately opened my door to let her in. The money was not in my account yet.

I picked up my phone to start "50 Ways" for the first time in a while, and probably for the last time ever. She frowned, but wisely chose not to comment.

The sex wasn't bad, but something had definitely changed. I had been careful to avoid too much emotional investment, anyway, when I had sex with her after the divorce. This time, I was outright cold, being aware that this was going to be our last time. The result was that it was pure mechanical sex. I basically treated her like one of my one-night stands.

Laura had never been unobservant, and sex with me was clearly high on her list of important things in life. This meant that she immediately noticed the change and I immediately noticed that she wasn't happy about it. Tough shit, I thought. You shouldn't have left me in the first place. You reap what you sowed back then. Overall, the evening helped me to create the emotional distance I would need when she would leave my life for good, later.

Afterwards, she wanted to kiss and cuddle, as she usually did. That was the last thing I needed in that situation. I quickly jumped out of bed and into the shower, sending a clear sign by closing the door behind me. She respected my wish to remain alone.

The whole scene was surreal, not even one word was spoken throughout. There was a whole lot of looking, longing, rejection and subtle gestures going on instead.

Finally, she showered alone, dressed and went towards the door, looking at me longingly. The right thing to do seemed to sit on the comfy old sofa we'd shared so many hours on, watching movies or just talking, and just wave her a casual goodbye. The last thing I needed was a maudlin scene.

She seemed confused, but obviously didn't dare ask me what all of this was about. She certainly was aware that what we had during the last few weeks had a use-by date, and she obviously didn't want to rock the boat by asking the wrong questions.

Finally, she just blew me a kiss with a sad look. This was it. This mundane scene really was the end of our great love story. Unfortunately, the whole scene didn't leave me unaffected either. She had left me, dammit! Why was she still in my heart?

There must be... 50 ways to love your leaver. Nooooooooooo!

I had an appointment with a notary on the next day and I signed the contract. It was all very clear and fair, and I was glad Olli had already signed it, so I didn't have to meet him again. It rankled me to know that Laura would be exclusively his after this. It felt like losing her for a second time. To alleviate the pain, I tried to look at the number 1.500.000 as often as possible, wanting it to help me to get over it. Unfortunately, it was just a number. It looked good, but not as good as Laura, and I certainly didn't love it. But I didn't love Laura, either. I kept telling myself that.

Impossible.

I refreshed my browser and checked the number again.

1.495.879,05

The number was black. My online banking program hadn't shown a black number in... I had no idea. I wasn't even aware that the numbers were available in two colors.

Unbelievable.

Problem was, I didn't even feel like celebrating. I felt nothing. I had imagined this would feel a lot better.

This was not just money; this was the kind of responsibility I was not used to. Now I had a chance, now I had to make it count. Now I had to show that I had it in me. Problem was, now I could also fuck things up massively. As low on the social ladder as I had been before, I couldn't fall very far. That had definitely changed.

The red numbers had led to my living a life without responsibility. The red numbers weren't my money anyway. The black numbers were mine. I would have to take care of it, increase it, make it count. In short, I had to grow up. Would I still be together with Laura if I had had this epiphany earlier? No, if she hadn't left me for Olli, we would be just as poor today as we ever were, and we would fight just as much about it. This was a chance I never had, the chance of a lifetime. Did that mean I should thank her for putting me into this position? That idea was unpleasant, so I decided to not pursue it any further.

In the afternoon my doorbell rang. Laura. This was going to be as pleasant as a root canal. With the receipt of the money, my life with Laura had definitely come to an end. Of course, no one had told her about it yet. I would now have the not so pleasant task of rejecting her without mentioning the real reason. Damn, this was about to get ugly.

I cautiously opened the door a bit and she almost bumped into it as she was used to just breezing past me. She looked at me, utterly surprised.

"Lucas... What..."

"Laura. I... Ah... You... You can come in."

"Glad to hear that," she replied while picking up speed again.

"You just have to be aware that we're not going to have sex again."

"What? What's the matter? Has Oliver been talking to you? Wait, has he threatened you? No, forget that, he's utterly harmless."

I suddenly had visions of hordes of private investigators watching this scene through gigantic telephoto lenses, fingers hovering above shutter releases in breathless anticipation. On a reflex, I looked around, looking for microphones and cameras. Me breaking the contract would be worth 3 million for Olli, 3 million that I didn't have, so my paranoia probably wasn't unfounded. I needed to be cautious.

"I'm not afraid of him, don't worry. I just don't think we should continue this. You dropped me like a hot potato as soon as someone with a fat wallet appeared on the horizon..."

"Hey!" she interrupted me. "That didn't stop you from having sex with me 27 times."

Twenty-seven times? She had counted? I briefly pondered whether she had turned into some kind of possessed stalker.

"That may be true, but I don't want this anymore. You decided to end our marriage and it's time to face the facts. We're done. You've ended us," I stated and it sounded way too pompous.

She looked at me as if she didn't believe a word I'd said.

"Are you kidding? What kind of speech was that?"

Yes, my speech might have sounded a bit stilted, but I still felt like a huge weight was removed from my shoulders. I said what I said for the wrong reasons, but it was true, nonetheless. I should have been strong enough to end this farce much earlier.

"Lucas, baby, I know you can't resist me, just like I can't resist you," she purred, putting her hands on my shoulders.

"You seemed to resist me quite nicely when you dumped me."

"Lucas, that was just for the money. You know as well as I do we couldn't go on like we were. The worries kept tearing us apart; living like that was pure hell. I know that our current arrangement is far from perfect, but we haven't been this happy with each other in quite some time. If we'd stayed married, we would just have fought endlessly until the love was gone. It's better this way. We have our old fire again."

"No. I don't want to be the diversion from your life of luxury. It's time to finally face reality. We're done," I said as firmly as I meant it.

"Don't do this, baby. I can't lose you completely," she almost begged.

"Please leave now."

With that I gently but firmly shoved her backwards until I could close the door.

"Lucas..." was the last thing I heard.

I expected this to hurt, and it did, but not as much as I anticipated. Her leaving me had hurt like hell. The affair was some kind of weird marriage extension that had kept me from starting my new life. This clean cut was just what I needed. I should have done that anyway. Olli paying me one and a half million for doing what needed to be done anyway felt good, and like some bizarre kind of revenge. And maybe, just maybe, I could put Laura in my rear-view mirror. And have her stay there.

It turned out that ending things with Laura was the smaller of my two problems. The bigger issue was the long, black number staring me down from my computer monitor. I had about 1.050.000 Euro to spend after taxes. I had been given the unexpected opportunity to succeed. If I failed miserably, I wouldn't have the comfortable "I never had the chance" excuse, anymore. If I fucked this up, it would be completely my fault.

I decided to keep my low-paying job as a mechanic, to keep living in the old, shabby apartment and to not change my spending habits until I knew how to proceed. I vowed to live like this never happened until I had a proper plan.

I made a list with my strengths and weaknesses. I vaguely remembered having read something about that once, and thought it might help. The result was embarrassingly short. Strengths: good car mechanic, good looking, charming, popular with women, good in bed. Weaknesses: not overly intelligent, lazy, can't handle money, no education or skills unrelated to women or cars.

That left two options: male escort service or something with cars.

Damn, damn, damn. That damn money again.

It was just like in the old times, when Laura had bought those damn shoes and we were completely broke. My worries were still the same. The only difference was, they were now on a much bigger scale. I had to pay the wages in two days and had to hope that one of my customers or a leasing bank would pay in the meantime. I didn't have the money.

When I was married to Laura, we both had jobs, we never had money and we never really understood why. Now, it was the same. I owned a prospering car dealership and garage. The garage was always full, we sold quite a few used and new cars, but still, the company never had any money. I just didn't understand it. I asked my tax advisor about it, and his answer was way too abstract for me to understand or do anything about. I was still just a simple mechanic who happened to own a company.

One of the three steady girlfriends I'd had since my divorce had been an assistant tax consultant, but she had refused to mix private and business things and I couldn't blame her.

Two years, I thought. Two years since I'd last seen Laura. I wondered what she was doing. I looked up in surprise to see that I had a visitor. In a Hallmark movie, it would have been Laura and we would have flown into each other's arms, having a tearful reunion.

The reception I gave Olli was slightly less emotional.

"What the fuck could you possibly want?"

His stance still resembled a wet washcloth and he still looked decidedly unhappy. Aesthetically, he didn't improve my day at all.

"I need your help."

"Again? Man, that's becoming a bad habit."

"It's about Laura."

"No surprise there. She's too much woman for you?" I taunted him. Yes, it was petty, but I'd had a bad day and he conveniently came along in time to take some punishment.

He sighed and slumped down on the chair in front of me without having been invited. He didn't just look like an unimpressive and unhappy man anymore, but more like a heap of misery.

"More or less, yes," he surprisingly admitted. "You probably know how unconditionally I love her, right?"

Yeah, I could have answered with something like 'Yes, I loved her just as much,' but why should I? There was nothing to gain, so I just nodded.

"She was mad at me for driving you away, can you imagine that?"

What kind of wimp was he, letting her accuse him of driving her lover away? It was a safe bet that he knew the answer to that question, so I refrained from asking and just nodded.

"One night, I finally confessed what I'd done. You can't imagine how angry she's been. Isn't that strange? I mean, she was angry at me for... I don't know... It doesn't seem right."

I didn't want to pity him, but found it harder and harder to avoid.

"When she finally talked to me again a few days later, she announced that I'd have to up my game a lot, sexually, to make up for what I'd done. Lucas, I'm fully aware that she's out of my league, physically. I even understand that she expects to be sexually satisfied. Still, this seems so wrong on so many levels."

I couldn't disagree, but remained silent.

"Well, I failed. I mean, Lucas, I'm twelve years older than she is. I never was nearly as fit as you and Laura are."

"You bit off more than you can chew, it seems."

"Exactly."

"So?"

"You know, just being with her is like a drug. Just seeing her makes me happy. Every minute I'm around her is like a dream. You know how beautiful she is."

"I know, but let's be honest, Olli. You're mismatched. This won't work in the long run." To my surprise, I was actually giving him honest advice. Laura and I were history anyway, so I could look at this situation without too much bias.

"I know, but I can't let her go. It's just impossible. At some point I might have to, but I try to get as much time with her as I can. Every second is precious. The only reason I'm not staring at her 24/7 is that it irritates her when I'm too clingy."

"So, you expect your marriage to end eventually?"

"Yes, I'm pretty sure it will. She refuses to even talk about kids. That's another bad sign."

"I see." The whole story left me surprisingly unaffected.

"I'm afraid that she'll leave rather soon. She's in a constant bad mood. She's got her MBA degree now; she doesn't need me or my money anymore."

He was right, but confirming it to him would feel like kicking someone already lying on the floor, bleeding.

"So, what's my role in this little drama?"

"You need to help me keep her satisfied."

Holy shit, this guy was constantly exploring new depths to sink to.

"Does that mean what I think it does?"

"I don't know what you think, but probably, yes. She's sexually unsatisfied, and as painful as it is, I have to admit that I won't be able to change that. Even blue pills have their limits. I'm still the better man of the two of us. I would have made a huge success out of this business while you're on the verge of failing. But I can't give Laura the sexual thrill that you can, and I'm afraid she's going to leave me over it."

I didn't rise to the bait.

"So, you want me to have sex with her?"

"Yes, in a very limited way. One time per week, no overnights, condoms required. What do you say?" he said, obviously thinking that I'd be eager to agree. For him, Laura was one in a million, so he was sure that I wouldn't be able to turn down this offer. She was definitely out of his league, but luckily, she wasn't out of mine. I'd had quite a few beautiful women, before and after my marriage to her.

"No. Thanks for the offer, but I'm not interested."

"What?" He was as stunned as I had expected him to be. Rejecting Laura was unthinkable for him. "Are you totally crazy? Have you looked at her?"

"Not recently, no. Sorry, too much baggage. Not appealing. No."

"Man, I need your help here. I can't hire some male escort; she'd neuter me if she found out."

I had to chuckle. "Definitely."

"Man, help me out. All you have to do is to fuck her once a week. That's really not the most unpleasant task on Earth."

"True. But unlike you, I have no shortage of hot women and they come without all that history. No, sorry. I have no intention of going through all that emotional shit again," I said and really meant it.

"A hundred thousand."

"What?"

"We already know that you can be bought," he said, trying to make it sound condescending. "We are just negotiating the details now."

"You want to give me 100,000 each time I have sex with your wife?" I had to suppress a good laugh; this was just beyond weird. "I'd be a whore, but I'd at least be the most expensive whore in the world."

"No, you'd get the amount once per year. I refuse to pay you per meeting. That would be tasteless. You'd be discreet. Nobody can ever know of this. It will only happen in your apartment. I refuse to be a cuckold."

What does he think this would make him, I thought, but decided against saying it. I also wondered why a one-time payment would be more tasteful than the traditional pay-per-fuck. It's tasteless anyway, prostitution always is.

"It's not prostitution, Lucas," he answered as if reading my mind. "I'm not paying you to have sex with her. Seducing you is her problem. I'm just buying her the opportunity to do so."

"You really think that wouldn't make you a cuckold?"

"No, because I stole her away from you. I'm just giving you a small part of her back for a limited time."

That's a bit deluded, I thought, but at least it's creative. If he was fine with that, who was I to object? He was the customer.

"Will there be a time limit?"

"No, but it will eventually run its course. I will spoil and woo her so hard, she will forget you, eventually. This is just to make the transition easier for her. Her sexual urges will lessen in time."

If that's what he really thought, he didn't know squat about his wife.

"Lucas, let's make it 150,000 per year in advance, not refundable. What do you say?"

I looked at the threatening numbers on my computer screen and knew that there was only one answer.

Laura was lying with her head on my shoulder, purring like a happy kitten.

"That was marvelous. I know that we're not perfect, Lucas, but I'm so glad that we have what we do. The years without you were pure hell. I've never stopped loving you."

"Me either," I admitted, although I had spent years trying to convince myself otherwise.

"I'm so glad about the agreement we have."

"Yes, it seems to work quite well," I agreed.

Suddenly, the door opened and this dude ran towards the bed, jumping at me. I had been expecting it.

"Careful, man," I chided him.

"Pancakes," he demanded, like he usually did on Sunday mornings.

"That's Daddy's task." Laura chuckled.

I sighed. "Come on, buddy, let's see what kind of damage we can do to the kitchen."

"Don't you dare, boys. I'll spank your asses if my kitchen isn't clean as a whistle."

Well, technically, it wasn't her kitchen as I owned the house and we hadn't remarried. She was working on it, proposing all kinds of unfair prenups in my favor. The jury was still out on this. She was very busy making things up to me anyway, and hadn't slowed down on that task in years.

Of course, I had turned down Olli's ridiculous offer. Getting money for not having sex was well within my comfort zone. I couldn't see making myself a whore and Laura a john, though, just to save their doomed relationship.

Their marriage collapsed just a few weeks later, voiding the contract I had with Olli. As she knew the conditions, she was on my doorstep about two milliseconds after filing the divorce and has clung to me like a burr since then. She managed to rekindle our old love quickly. Dealing with trust issues was a lot harder and is still not resolved. Her MBA helped her make my business a success. She did that selflessly, without payment, just for board, lodging and sex. The business was still solely mine and would remain so.

We had both been pretty shallow and self-centered back then. Laura loved me, but left me for money. I loved her, but I couldn't manage not to have brain farts and shout at her about money. Shit, we were only 22 when she left. We'd been admired and envied by everyone: the couple who had it all, they said. No wonder we were somewhat narcissistic.