One Voice

"I appreciate your thinking. Allow me to explain. When the mortgage was retired by Mr. Dumont, homeowner's insurance was no longer required. I canceled it, thinking I had time to shop around for a better price. Same thing for the car. No insurance. Both assets are a total loss. I haven't profited by a single cent from Mr. Dumont. His gifts have all gone up in smoke. I also lost my personally invested 10% down payment of $100.000.00 on the house. So the loss was even greater than Mr. Dumont's contribution alone. After the fire, nothing was salvageable."

Some snickering could be heard among the journalists. This is too ridiculous to believe. Are you trying to shake down Mr. Dumont for even more money after his very generous act of kindness toward you? Is that really what this is all about?"

I looked sternly at the questioner and replied, "I don't want a single penny from Mr. Dumont, EVER! I want him to keep everything that belongs to him as far away from me as possible, and that includes my wife. He can have her as my parting gift. If my wish were to come true, I would never see either of them again for as long as I live. Mr. Dumont has brought nothing but heartache and destruction to my family. My children will come from a broken home now because of his betrayal. This box contains memory chips that have raw unedited graphic footage of their sordid trysts that took place in my home before it burned to the ground. Please take one with you before you leave. My wife is with Mr. Dumont right now in France and they have been there together without me or her three children for over a week now. If you check your own sources, you will see what I've said is true. I'm sure there must be photographs of him with a new woman. That woman is Chelsea Blaylock, my wife. I hope she never returns to the USA."

"If what you say is true, sir. What are you and your children doing now for accommodations?"

"We have moved into an affordable three-bedroom apartment for the time being. I will soon be a single dad and we are adjusting to life without her."

Silence fell across the whole group. It was finally sinking in that perhaps what I was saying was true. It wouldn't take much for them to obtain confirmation. Then gradually stories would be written and shared online, eventually crossing the pond and making their way to France, where I hope they would do significant damage to his reputation and career. In celebrity circles, image is everything. I knew there would be fallout, and it would hit me hard. I was prepared as I could be.

After the news conference was over, Helena and I visited a restaurant for lunch. During the meal, Helena finally broke the ice.

"Paul, even though you strongly suggest that I disappear for a while, I want you to know that it's one of the hardest things I have ever done. I have grown truly close to your three angels and have loved every minute I have been privileged to care for them."

"They love you too, Helena. You're more than a babysitter to them. That's why they call you Aunt Helena. You're family."

She teared up, "It's not just the children that I will miss, Paul," as she moved her hand over mine.

"By the way, I'd like you to sign this document right quickly before we part ways," she requested.

"What is this?" He queried.

"Basically it's something that could protect us when Pierre comes after us. Trust me, Paul, as I trust you. It's because of his treatment of you that I am cutting all ties to him."

I signed it without even looking at it. Then I asked her, "Are you sure you want to leave Pierre's employ, permanently? I'm the only one who will be quoted from the press conference."

"I'm certain that my picture was taken as I stood by you. Not only that, Pierre knows that only I would have had the connections to arrange the press conference. You could have never pulled it off on your own. And Pierre always says that revenge is a dish best served repeatedly. He'll come after us both. I can hide but you cannot with your children."

"Do you trust me enough to tell me where you'll be going, Helena?"

"Paul, I'd trust you with my life. You're the most courageous man of integrity that I've ever met. There's a former college friend who now works in the French Honorary Consulate in George Town, Cayman Islands with whom I am very close. Pierre has never met him nor does he even know of him. He and I have kept in touch over the years. I will be very safe there with him until..... Paul, when this blows over, trust me, our paths will cross again."

"I understand. He's a lucky guy. I wish you didn't have to go but the most important thing to me is your safety. I have no idea what Pierre may try to do to me for outing him but I'm sure he won't take your defection lying down. Here, take my prepaid phone with you. I have your number memorized and if mine is discovered, it would only lead them to you. I don't want anything bad to ever happen to you, Helena." I leaned over and gave her a passionate parting kiss. There was nothing fake about her participation in that kiss. We shared a taxi to the airport and parted ways there, after another scorching hot VERY French kiss. I made it back home in time for supper. Mom's cooking was just like I remembered it. Although I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders, I knew a storm would be brewing.

I wondered when the news would hit the French social scene but when Chelsea called, she seemed none the wiser. I decided to finally talk to her this time. I set my phone to speakerphone and used a pocket recorder to capture both sides of the call.

"Hello Chelsea, how's Paris?"

"Oh, Paul. We have been so worried about you. It seems you have been avoiding us. Can you tell me why?

"I know everything, Chelsea. That's why."

"What on earth are you talking about? What do you think you know, Paul?"

"Do you really want me to say the words, Chelsea?"

"Yes, Paul. What's going on?"

"Okay, you asked, so I'll say it. I know that you were fucking my asshole twin brother before you left for Paris with him. I know you fucked him in our bedroom on our bed. I watched you suck his dick and swallow his cum the same way I taught you to do. I know you've been fucking him every day since you've been there with him."

"How? How on earth can you say those things? They're not true!"

"Liar! You damn fucking liar! I have the video recordings of you two in our house before you left! Remember the security system the asshole installed without my permission? He thought it was inoperative. He was wrong. It recorded everything you two said and did in every room in clear high-definition video. I've watched you, Chelsea. I've seen it all and there is no coming back from it." Chelsea sobbed at the shock of the sudden revelation.

"I'm sorry, Paul. I'm so sorry. I didn't set out to fall in love with Pierre, I swear I didn't. It just happened. It's like he's you, but a much better version of you in every way. And as much as I love you, how could I not fall for him?"

"What about the kids? Have you given a fleeting thought about what's going to happen to them as a result of all this?"

"Pierre is uncomfortable around children. I tried to talk him into accepting them without success. He said you'd take good care of them. I don't know how to tell you this Paul; I'm taking a leave of absence from our marriage. Pierre has a few scenes to perform in a movie he is making and then he and I will travel the world while you cool down. I promise I'll be back home before you know it."

"There is no home to come back to. Our house, the one that he paid the mortgage for has burned to the ground along with his fancy blue sports car. They're both a total loss. Insurance won't cover the loss, so all of your personal belongings and pictures are gone. Make some new memories with him, Chelsea because all of your old ones have gone up in smoke."

"Did you say our home burned down? And that beautiful car? Why won't insurance cover it? I don't understand, Paul. What's going on?"

"You know what I find interesting about your first comment after such news, Chelsea? You never asked if any of our children died in the fire or if I was seriously injured trying to rescue them. How telling!"

"NO! Was anyone hurt? I assumed you'd have led with that if anyone had been injured."

"No one was hurt. The only other thing that died in that fire was our marriage. It's been cremated. Let me know if you plan to return stateside any time soon and I'll have the divorce papers served on you at the airport."

"Oh, there's no way Pierre will allow you to divorce me, Paul. You must get that idea out of your head. This is only a temporary affair, you must understand that. Pierre won't keep me forever. But I plan to stay with him as long as he allows me to. He also told me that you had sex with Helena."

"If he said that, he lied to you, Chelsea. Helena and I have never been intimate. If he says otherwise, ask to see the proof. It doesn't exist. He's a thief and a liar. Hang on to that man, Chelsea. He's a real jewel. Pierre has no say in our marriage and neither do you. I'm filing tomorrow for abandonment and full custody of the kids. Have a nice life, Chelsea. The children and I will be just fine forever without you. You have no husband, you have no children and I have no brother. You can slut around with whoever you want to your heart's desire. Don't call here again, Chelsea, ever! We're done!" And I hung up my phone and turned it off. I made a mental note to have my cellphone number changed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I figured that once the shit hit the fan in France, my asshole twin would urgently try to reach Helena for damage control. Of course, her unavailability would infuriate him. I reasoned that after a day or two, he might send Gerald or engage the services of others on his behalf, or perhaps even return himself to get to the bottom of everything.

No one could reach me by my personal phone as I had the number changed early Monday morning after I reported for work. But that didn't stop Pierre from calling me at work. I was told I had an urgent call.

"Paul, my brother. What is this you have done? You must recant. Recant before it is too late." Pierre entreated.

"I'm sorry Mr. Dumont. I'm afraid I can't do that."

"But why? You burned down your house disrupted your family and try to destroy my reputation all for what? A piece of ass? I paid you well for her. You should be grateful instead of trying to destroy me."

"I'm sure that's all she is to you, Mr. Dumont, a piece of ass, a slut, a whore. But she was everything to me and you destroyed my everything. I'm just returning the favor."

"You're a Dreamer and that's all you'll ever be, a loser, Paul. Nothing more."

"Thank you for the kind words, Mr. Dumont. If that's all, I need to return to work. Please do not call me here again or I'll have you blocked. The days are over when you can treat people like shit and expect loyalty in return. Good day, Mr. Dumont." And I hung up on him. I then requested that the company switchboard no longer accept his calls.

Whenever I had a few minutes, I searched the web on my phone or computer for reports on the effects of my press conference. It seems that video snippets of blurred-out body parts were making the rounds on Instagram and other social media. At first, Pierre denied it was him. He claimed I was impersonating him. But his French accent and voice were unmistakable. There had also been many paparazzi shots taken of him and Chelsea together in the clubs there informally before the news event. Now they were being republished in a new light, as confirmation of my story. Entertainment journalists tried to interview her, shouting out questions about why was she cheating on her husband and abandoning her children in the states. Pierre ordered her to ignore them and was angry that social media was working so hard against him when it had been in his back pocket for years. Although he had wrapped up the movie scenes he'd been working on, the producers informed him that he would be replaced with someone less controversial. Even though he now had time to travel as Chelsea had suggested, they were badgered by the press every time they tried to go anywhere. The salient French TV star was now the deplorable predator.

It wasn't long before other victims of Pierre's debauchery began surfacing and telling their stories nearly identical to mine. They were piling on to such an extent that Pierre felt like he was being eaten alive by piranhas in a feeding frenzy. In only two short weeks, all of his talent contracts were suspended pending further investigation. He still had his money but nothing new was coming in, and instead of people asking for his autograph, they spat at him. This was his ultimate nightmare and humiliation. It was astonishing to him that my one voice, just one voice was able to bring him down from his lofty perch. Chelsea was starting to complain at how roughly Pierre would fuck her, rape her would be more apropos. It was as if he was taking his anger out on her body in retribution for my speaking out. She tried her best to appease him but nothing seemed to work.

Finally, Pierre had had enough. His PR people were unable to resuscitate his former image. It was clear that he was a pariah in the industry and it would be a long time before he worked in the entertainment industry again, if ever. In anguish, he was forced to replace Helena as he was unable to locate or reach her by any means. He knew that I had something to do with her sudden disappearance. He wanted to hurt me much worse than I had hurt him.

Pierre sent his negotiators and deal-makers to New Directions, Inc., the occupational therapy business where I worked. They met clandestinely with the board of directors and negotiated the sale of the business to Pierre Dumont through a shell company for twenty-million dollars. This left the four partners of New Directions, Inc. with a nice nest egg of five million apiece. The only priority changes that were implemented were the immediate termination of me and the installation of the new CEO, Brad Preston, representing Pierre's interests. I was verbally told that because of downsizing due to the sale of the company, my position was eliminated. Greg said he hated like hell to let me go, but the terms of the sale were explicit. He would have to forfeit his share of the proceeds were he not to comply. Of course, no one other than Brad Preston even knew that Pierre was the investing owner.

Brad had been given very specific instructions to carry out Pierre's wishes. He ordered the switchboard answering staff to pass on any calls regarding Paul Blaylock directly to his office phone without offering any comments to the caller about Mr. Blaylock whatsoever. Failing to do so would cost them their job. Secondly, as he had access to all company files, Brad pulled my personnel file and entered into my permanent work record that I had engaged in inappropriate contact with multiple female patients, though none were named. Of course, it was false but it was Pierre's malicious attempt to destroy my reputation in retaliation. No one but Brad and Pierre knew that my employment record had been tampered with. And since no one saw him do it, Brad could not be legally identified as the culprit who'd entered the false information.

Brad's secondary task was to search for Helena at every opportunity. Since Pierre believed she was in cahoots with me, Brad surreptitiously watched me hoping to catch me meeting Helena. Brad was a thug who had no experience other than carrying out orders for money. This was the easiest money he'd ever made. Pierre's next move was to hire a hacker. Gerald had a friend who knew a friend.... This guy was good. He was paid serious money to locate every financial asset I had and redistribute it offshore where I, nor anyone I might hire would be able to locate it. This was child's play to him. Every penny I had to my name suddenly disappeared. My bank accounts were emptied and closed, my 401K vanished, my investment portfolio was sold and the proceeds disappeared. Every asset to my name was depleted but none of my bills were touched. I'd still be expected to pay all of my monthly bills now with no source of income.

At the same time, Pierre was finally done with Chelsea. Sure she was a good fuck, but so are the many other cuties he was denying himself due to her being there. He had been bitterly disappointed that he had been unable to cuckold his clueless brother there in France. That was his greatest remorse. She was now a big negative in his public life. Any sightings of the two of them always turned out bad. He halfheartedly apologized to her saying that things had not turned out as either of them had expected and it was all her husband's fault. He put her on a plane back to the states. Her only positive was that she would be able to keep the gifts he had given her. When she arrived back in her hometown, she immediately sought me out. Pierre had provided her with my new address. She rang the doorbell.

"Hello Paul, it's wonderful to see you, may I come in?" A hopeful Chelsea asked.

I stepped out onto the small concrete pad designated as my porch and closed the door behind me. "What are you doing here Chelsea? You've been gone for over three months. Did the asshole you ran off with get tired of fucking you?"

"Please, Paul. I don't want to fight. I want to see my children. And if there's any way you could see clear to forgive me, I'd like us to resume our marriage. Give me a chance to make it up to you, please."

"Now's not a good time to see the kids, Chelsea. You should have called in advance so we could set something up. But as far as you and me remaining married, let me be clear, that ship has already sailed. I filed for a divorce due to abandonment shortly after you left the country. There's no way I'll stay married to you. Why do you even want to try?"

"Paul, I believed that I wanted all the trappings of celebrity, wealth, and prestige, and thought that I had to choose between you and that life. What I found out is that none of it matters in the slightest without you," she said insightfully.

"You know what they say about hindsight, Chelsea. It's always 20/20. You betrayed me and our marriage. You did it uninhibitedly in our own house and bedroom. You told me you were taking a leave of absence from our marriage, and you abandoned our children to stay with the asshole in France for a quarter of a year. Actions have consequences, Chelsea, and your actions have cost you your home, your marriage, and your children as far as I'm concerned. If the court orders me to allow you visitation, then I'll comply but until that happens, you need to leave here and not come back."

"Can't I stay here with you and the kids? I'll cook and clean and provide passionate lovemaking as you've never seen before," she proposed.

"We don't need you any longer, Chelsea. You are no longer relevant to me or the kids."

She hesitated and sniffed but then went on to say, "I'm pregnant, Paul. You're going to be a father again."

"There's no way I can be the father of your baby. You've been out of the country for the past three months. How do you think you can pin this on me?"

"The DNA test, honey. It will show that you're the father of our baby."

"No, it won't. It will show that asshole Dumont is the father because I can prove that you and I have not had sex since before you left the country."

"You can't abandon your child, Paul and you know it. Even on the remotest possibility that it could be yours. Can't I please stay with you and our children?"

"No, you can't stay here! What's wrong with you? Haven't you heard anything I said?"

"But where will I go? How will I live?" She pleaded. "Our home has been destroyed."