No Controlling Legal Authority Ch. 10

"I see your point, honey; would be kind of awkward, everyone but her partying all night on Wednesday, and then getting together with her on Thursday to socialize with the club."

"Exactly. That's why we're so careful about who we invite to join the group. First it's cards, then it's the cocktail hour and parties, and, before you know it, they're wanting you to propose them to the country club membership committee, and you can't figure out how to say `no.'"

"Jeez," he gasped, "And, I thought dealing with the city council over the budget was fraught with pitfalls."

"Don't be sarcastic," she chided him, bristling a little at his good natured ridicule. "I have an important function in this relationship. We have to protect our position in this town, and it's my job to make sure we associate with the right kinds of people. If I wasn't looking out for us, our social life wouldn't be much more than swilling beer and munching barbecues under some carport with your redneck fishing buddies, and you, sir, would not have been elected mayor for three terms in a row."

He grinned at her and tossed his paper onto the dinette table. Then, he stood and walked around to her, smiling, and said, "You are sure right about that, babe. Marrying you was the best thing I ever did." He bent to kiss her upturned lips, and his hand moved gently over the thin silk of her robe and caressed her thigh. She returned his kiss, her tongue squirming into his open mouth, and she parted her thighs invitingly.

He meant those words with all his heart. He had been a ship without a rudder before he met her; divorced, hunting and fishing all the time and letting his pallet manufacturing business run itself, while he dissipated his energies and was getting nowhere. Not that the business was doing badly or anything; the money poured in like always, just as it had for his daddy and granddaddy, before he inherited the business, but success hadn't been important to him then, not until he met Nancy.

It was an unlikely, chance encounter. There had been a convention; the National Pallet Manufacturers' Association annual convention, and the thought of spending a week in New Orleans had intrigued him. Of course, he had wandered onto Bourbon Street the first night of the convention, drawn by the tawdry flashing lights, the sweet strains of soulful jazz in the air and the tantalizing tinkle of beaded curtains shielding delights of the flesh, the likes of which a small town, Missouri boy could not imagine. He wandered aimlessly until an insistent street barker half dragged, half pulled him into "Sloppy's" and sat him at the end of the polished mahogany runway with a double shot of whiskey and a Coors chaser. He had watched in delighted amazement as girl after girl came through the curtains at the end of the runway to perform, dancing, swaying, flinging stockings and shorts, bras and panties into the crowd amid whistles and cheers, and he clapped and put his pinky and forefingers together in his mouth in a "V," and whistled loudest of all. It was nearly two in the morning and empty beer bottles were lined up all along the bar in front of him. Dense blue cigarette smoke filled the room like a morning fog in a mountain valley back home, and it burned his eyes so badly he had to squint. The waitress brought him another round without being asked, and he could barely hear her over the din of clinking glasses and rising, drunken voices. Suddenly, an expectant hush fell over the crowded room, and he looked around, wobbling on his perch, half expecting to see the police raiding the place. The sound system crackled, and an announcer's voice broke into the silence; "Gentlemen, may I have your attention. The lady you have all been waiting for, the lady you have come here to see in all her splendid, beautiful, radiant glory is about to perform for your enjoyment. She has come to New Orleans by way of New York City, Chicago and Los Angeles. She has danced in the best and finest gentlemen's clubs in those fair cities and all across the country. We are indeed fortunate to have her here for this week, and this week only, for she has graciously consented to take time from her very busy appearance schedule to be with us here at this time. So, now, gentlemen, without further adieu, appearing by special invitation, I give you the queen of exotic dancers, the incomparable, the spectacular, the world renown, "Satin Sheets." Drums rolled and trumpets blared announcing "Satin's" grand entrance, and, then, there she was, stepping through the beaded curtain into the spot light at the end of the runway and in that instant their eyes met through the fog and time stopped; she looked straight into his eyes and into his soul, and he was swept away on an irresistible wave of adoration. Rhinestones and sequins glittered, sparkling and throwing off flashing splinters of light like lightning bolts. Thunderous applause erupted instantly as the crowd leapt to its' feet and cheered. He sat rooted to his seat, transfixed by wonderment, as Satin shimmied down the runway and into his life. He drunkenly believed that she danced only for him and ignored the catcalls and caterwauling of the rowdy spectators around him. He gulped his beers without taking his eyes off of her, and when she dropped her pink panties in his lap, he snatched them up and stuffed them inside his shirt next to his racing heart, and the scent of her perfume intoxicated him even more than the beer. He returned the next night and the next, tipping the barker with hundred dollar bills to obtain his usual seat, and by the third night she recognized him and they spoke. Between sets, she led him to a couch in a secluded corner, and he bought her drinks at outrageous prices, and she danced for him alone, and let him worship her silky skin with trembling fingers. He returned every night, and they talked, and he told her of the pallet mill and the loneliness of life in a small town, and she told him that his story touched her for she had longed for a life away from the lights and the hot screams of drunken lechers. Toward dawn at the end of the week, she came to him for one last dance, and, while she undulated over his lap, she put her hand between his legs and she felt his longing. She kissed him on the mouth and whispered she would come to him if he gave her his room key. They stayed together, in his hotel suite, for three days and nights, and on the fourth day they flew to Las Vegas and were married in a little wedding chapel in the shadow of the Desert Sands. They had been giddy with new love and champagne, and she had giggled when the Justice of the Peace pushed the application for a wedding license across his desk for her to complete and sign. She whispered to Jerry that "Satin Sheets" probably wouldn't do, especially if word got out back home, and he told her to make up another, if her real name didn't suit her, so she thought for a minute and then wrote down "Nancy Hardwick," because she had remembered a boy she had made some adult films with when she was younger, who had gone by the name "Randy Hardwick," and she had liked both the name and the boy. The boy was long gone now, but his name lingered in her memory, and she took some of it for her own. After the ceremony, he took her home by way of St. Louis, where he bought her a new wardrobe and a hairdo to ease her anxiety over adjusting to her new life. It was difficult in the early years because she was raw and unpolished, and the wives in town eyed her suspiciously because they sensed she knew more about their husbands than they did, but in time she melded seamlessly with the community, and with her help Jerry got himself elected mayor, and she became a pillar of the community. Together, she and the mayor established the Hardwick School for Boys, which, using a little creative revision of her ancestry, she let out was named after her grandfather, Archibald Hardwick, who was a semi-famous educator in his own right.

"Hmmmm," Nancy murmured, reverting to her "Satin Sheets" persona, as Jerry's fingers slipped under her robe and stroked her naked flesh, "Mayor's gonna be a little late for work this morning. Want a lap dance to get your day started, baby?"

"Oh shit," he gasped with a start. He glanced at his watch for an instant and reluctantly withdrew his hand from under her robe. "I can't, darn it. I'm due at a meeting in fifteen minutes, and it's important; those people from that outfit I told you about, the one that's looking to relocate, are flying into town for a few days to see what sort of concessions we're willing to give them to set up their operations here. We're meeting this morning to get started. This could be really big for us, baby; I'm talking half a billion in investments right here."

"Too bad, baby," she pouted as her fingers toyed with the zipper to his fly. "Business before pleasure though. Do we stand to make any money out of this deal?"

"God, yes. You can't imagine how much, baby. They're going to need about a thousand acres for starters, and Briggs and I have already started putting together some tracts for them. We're optioning swamps and rundown farms real cheap, figuring we'll be able to flip `em for a fortune within six months."

"Oooo, baby, I love it when you talk smart like that about makin money. You think you're gonna need some help with the deal from my bridge club; we can be pretty persuasive, you know?"

"Sure we will, darlin. Your girls are indispensable, but not this morning. Today, it's all business and no play. Guess I'll be a dull boy but a rich one at least."

"Rich is good, honey," she purred, giving him a loving squeeze through the fabric of his pants. "Remember what we used to say in the business, don't you; the thicker the wallet, the bigger the dick."

"I remember," he laughed, "Trust me, baby, when this deal is done, my wallet's gonna be so thick, my cock'll make Archie's look like a midget's prick by comparison."

"Ooooooo, baby," she cooed, "I can't wait. When's this going to happen?"

"Never," Jerry snorted, glancing at his watch again, "if I'm late for the meeting this morning."

"Scoot then, Mister soon-to-be-filthy-rich Mayor," she said, pushing him away with a laugh. "Since you're going to be tied up for a while, if you have no objections, I think I'll have Imogene Justice over for lunch on Wednesday and check her out for the bridge club."

He frowned slightly, visualizing the Headmaster and his wife. "You think she's ready for you girls? She seems a little too proper to fit with that group, if you know what I mean."

"I have a hunch she'll be just fine, but we'll see how the audition goes; if she works out, she's in, if not, well, no great loss."

"Go for it darlin, I trust your judgement. You haven't let me down yet."

"Thanks, hun," she smiled at him as he headed out of the room. He reached the doorway as she remembered and called out, "Say, did you have a chance to find out what was wrong with that camera over the couch in the playroom?"

"Yeah, baby. Greg came over and checked it out. Drive motor was burned out. He fixed it, and it's working fine now; shouldn't give you any more problems."

"OK. Thanks honey; good luck with the meeting."

As soon as he left, Nancy reached for the phone and dialed the Justice's number. Imogene answered midway through the first ring, a little too eagerly Nancy thought; she must have known her invitations were delivered yesterday and was hovering by the phone for the RSVP's to begin.

"Hello?" Imogene's voice was surprisingly low and throaty, almost sensual, like a torch singer's voice, not at all what might be expected from such a tall, slender woman.

"Imogene, my dear, its Nancy Farber."

"Ohhhh, Mrs. Farber," Imogene gasped. Nancy smiled at the young woman's reaction and reached for the invitation, which was lying on the counter beside the phone base.

"Please, darling, its just Nancy," she replied warmly.

"Yes, ma'am," Imogene gulped and then immediately corrected herself, "I mean, Nancy."

"Good girl," Nancy answered genuinely. "I have been hoping we could become friends, and I've been meaning to invite you up to lunch, but things got so crazy during the election and all..."

"Oh, me too, I mean, oh." Imogene's voice broke, betraying her excitement, and Nancy struggled to keep from chuckling. “And, this morning, darling, I opened your lovely invitation to tea, and it reminded me that I hadn't been neighborly at all, and that with the election and everything, I had completely neglected you, and I am soooooo sorry, so I decided that I would just give you a call and see if you were free for lunch Wednesday."

"Oh, no, you haven't, you didn't do..., I mean, you don't have to apologize, I mean the election was so exciting, and..." Imogene was becoming a little rattled; Nancy's call and the invitation to lunch were so unexpected, she was totally unprepared to deliver a coherent response.

"Oh, yes, it was, wasn't it," Nancy replied soothingly. "Even Jerry's being unopposed didn't detract from the excitement, did it?"

"Uhhh,” Imogene gurgled. Nancy could sense Imogene's wheels spinning futilely for traction on that notion and covered the phone with her hand to smother the sound of her laughter.

"Oh good then, you'll be available for lunch Wednesday, won't you, darling?" Nancy resumed smoothly.

"Oh, oh, yes, of course, I would love to, Nancy."

"Wonderful, Imogene, that's wonderful. How does noonish look for you?"

"Good. Noon is good," Imogene replied without hesitation.

"Marvelous, darling. We'll have cocktails first, and then do lunch, if that sounds good to you. I mean, you do like a cocktail or two at lunch, don't you?"

"Cocktails? Uh, oh, yes, sure. I love cocktails at lunch."

Nancy grinned. Imogene's lack of sophistication was pouring through her facade like sunshine through a moth-eaten curtain. "Oh wonderful, my dear; I just knew you were a kindred spirit," she gushed at the dazzled girl. Then, she lowered her voice and continued conspiratorially, "But you won't tell anybody about the cocktails, will you; that'll be our little secret, OK? You know how small-minded people around here can be about things like that, I'm sure."

"Oh, of course, Nancy," Imogene whispered, "I won't breathe a word."

"I had a feeling I could count on you, sweetie," Nancy responded. "I will see you around noon on Wednesday. Put me on your calendar, so you don't forget."

"I won't forget, I promise. It sounds wonderful, and I'm sooooooo excited, I just can't wait."

"Me too, honey. See you then."

Nancy broke the connection and laid the phone on the counter. She pulled her robe tightly around her and retied the belt at the waist, smiling smugly and thinking about Imogene's reaction. Well, she congratulated herself, that went well, even better than she had expected. The poor girl was so shocked and excited, she was nearly incoherent. If she had been told to strip naked and drive right over, she would have been pulling into the drive before Nancy had time to hang up the phone. It didn't look like she was going to present any problems at all on Wednesday and after that, well, the videos'll keep her manageable.

Nancy picked the phone up again and keyed a number to dial from the phone's memory. An answering machine picked up on the fifth ring; a gravelly male voice intoned abruptly, "Caruthers. Leave a message."

Nancy cleared her throat self-consciously and began speaking to the recorder, "Nadeen, honey, it's me. I was just calling to be sure you guys were on schedule to bring them pictures of our new teacher up here to the school for Rufus this week. I still can't believe Archie recognized her from them old videos you sold us; sometimes that boy is just amazing, but I guess you all knew that already. Anyway, I'm trying to coordinate some things on my end, and I didn't want to get too far ahead of you. I just invited Rufus Justice's foxy little wife up here to have lunch with me next Wednesday, so I can audition her for the bridge club and get some candid video shots of her and Archie, just in case she gets wise to the fact her hubby's getting into little Annie’s hot pants. Just let me know today or tomorrow if there's a problem, OK?" She paused to think for a second, "Oh yeah, Archie said to tell you `hi;' he can't wait to get together with you again. Bye now, love ya girl."