The Deal Pt. 01

When I first came across Literotica (a short time ago) I read Rehnquist's 'Educating Shannon' and was fascinated by the plot line, but I thought it had the potential to be so much more Possibly because I identified so much with the character of Erik. I found that I wanted the characters to become more developed so I wrote this story (The Deal) based on his premise and the characters of 'Educating Shannon'. Somehow the story ran away with me and turned into a 60,000 word epic before I knew it because it resonated with me so completely.

I tried repeatedly to contact Renquist to ask permission to use his story as the inspiration point and core story line but it's been over 10 years since he was active on Literotica and he's not responding to my e-mails. I therefore give full credit to Rehnquist for the plot and the basic characters of Erik, Shannon and Rebecca and hope he finds my use of his characters acceptable as there is nothing on his profile the explicitly forbids anyone from doing this. If however he's unhappy with my use of his characters and premise I will remove this story.

You can read his original story here: https://www.literotica.com/s/educating-shannon).

Also note that although it's not a wife but fiancée and not so much cheating as blindsiding the main character, I have submitted it in Loving Wives because I must have a masochistic streak for punishment from the unforgiving critics. (But also because the LW genre has the most emotive content of all in Literotica).

Dedicated to my wife Denise and to Rehnquist who unknowingly inspired me to start writing.

* Prologue *

May 16, 2012, was the day Shannon dumped me after three years of dating, a year of engagement and plans towards a wedding. I'll never forget it - late afternoon at her cousin's college graduation party. I had to work late and the party was in full swing by the time I arrived.

Once there, I grabbed a beer, chatted with friends, and wandered looking for Shannon. I found her sitting on Joe's lap, whispering in his ear and rubbing her ass on his crotch while he had his hand buried between her thighs. I just stood there, looking stupid and shocked. Joe nudged her and she looked up at me. "We're done!" She said, and went back to whispering in Joe's ear.

* * *

Later that year, I passed the bar exam I was twenty five and I was a lawyer.

The economy sucked and no-one was hiring unknown's, so I scraped together my meagre savings, borrowed from mom and dad, and opened my own office in my hometown of Springfield, Illinois.

The first year was tough, but I became an unashamed ambulance chaser and clients trickled in. Some of the rich ones who knew my folks would throw simple work my way, and the poor ones came around because they couldn't afford anyone better. Then came the Harris murders.

Johnny Harris was a 40 year old loser, and living at home. He grew some weed in a far corner of the soybean fields, smoked the dope, listened to the Doobie Brothers, lived and wanted for little. When his parents were murdered and Johnny found the bodies, the shit hit the fan. After seventeen hours of interrogation, he broke down and admitted he might have done it in a pot-induced haze. He wouldn't sign the confession, but the cops didn't care. They charged him with capital murder.

Johnny's sister Tammy had used me for her divorce, and she told Johnny to get me for the case. I had helped out on a few murder trials in my law school clinic, but I'd never had one myself. Johnny didn't care though. He was flat broke and I met his most important criteria: I was cheap. Real cheap.

I worked day and night on the Harris murder case. I flooded the prosecution with motions, discovery requests, and anything else I could think up to give this poor bastard a chance. Eventually, I was successful in getting Johnny's confession suppressed. Seems the cops had no probable cause to take him in and hold him for seventeen hours of interrogation. With no confession, no eyewitnesses, and no physical evidence tying Johnny to the crime, the State dropped the charges and Johnny walked free. Within weeks, I was the busiest attorney in the county.

I took all manner of cases. I represented banks foreclosing on homes; homeowners being foreclosed upon; criminal defence; real estate closings; personal injury; and divorces. If you could pay my bill, I'd take your case. Day after day, from early morning to late into the evening, seven days a week, behind my desk researching and drafting documents or arguing in a courtroom on behalf of my clients. My office got bigger, my part-time secretary became my PA, then another full-time secretary and a para-legal. My crappy, studio apartment became a large, airy ranch-style home in one of Springfield's gated communities. I had it all.

All, that is, except a love life. Sure, there were dates and the occasional frantic release of passionate sex with some near stranger. None of them hung around, though. Who wants a boyfriend who works all the time and is often late for dates when he manages to show up at all?

That's the way it is, though. You make your bed and you sleep in the damned thing. And if your choice is to avoid the Shannon Ryan's of this world, that bed becomes an empty field you throw yourself into at the end of another 16-hour workday.

***

By 2019, business had grown to the point where an associate was needed or clients would have to go elsewhere. Not wanting to lose any valuable accounts, my eyes were out for a hard-working, talented young attorney with fire in the belly. That turned out to be Rebecca Galarza, a twenty-seven year old assistant state's attorney with strong litigation background and a flair for contract law. She wasn't tall, only 5'5 with long, dark hair, deep brown eyes, and flawless olive skin. High cheekbones and a delicate chin and full lips completed a very attractive face. Her strong athletic legs ran straight up to a perfect, bubble ass, and her breasts were a perfect handful sitting high on her chest and pointing slightly upward. Everyone considered her, smoking hot.

Not that I noticed.

I made Rebecca an offer. Eighty four grand a year plus thirty percent on anything above two-fifty K that she brought in. All told, she could expect to make over a hundred and twenty or more a year with an average work week, and far more if she put in longer hours. Not great in New York or Chicago, but really good money in Springfield Illinois.

Rebecca's experience was mostly with criminal prosecution. As such, there was a learning curve she needed to meet to deal with my clientele. She sat in on meetings, real estate closings, discovery depositions, and all other manner of this strange and arcane world known as general civil law. She held the hands of wives and husbands going through divorces and custody battles, drafted contracts for commercial building contracts, and presented zoning petitions before the local powers that be. Within six months, she was working eighty hours a week and we were taking in even more money and clients than before. She required less and less guidance and when it came to contracts almost none at all, and I was left figuring out how to meet the expanded case demands.

All of this new business left even less time for a love life. Rebecca, though beautiful, was an employee, and it didn't seem prudent to risk the investment. Occasionally I'd turn and catch her looking at me in a way that indicated the chance was there, but messy dating followed by messy break-up would leave poor Erik with another associate to find and train. Still, if something didn't happen soon....

* Chapter 1 *

It was August 2018 - my intercom buzzed. "Mr. Taylor, your four o'clock appointment is here to see you."

I pressed the button. "Please show her into the conference room."

I looked at my schedule. 4:00 Hollis S, possible divorce/custody action.

I grabbed a legal pad and pen and strode to the conference room. She was sitting in a chair with her back to me, her short blond hair cut into a bob above the collar, her shoulders slumped slightly, her long fingers twirling a pen on the tabletop. "Thank you for waiting, Mrs. Hollis." I said, closing the door and walking around to the other side of the table.

She looked up at me. "Hello, Erik." Said Shannon.

I stood there a moment before pulling out my chair and sliding in. She hadn't changed much. Her short blonde bob framed her square jaw and high cheekbones. She still had those bright green eyes that could pierce your soul. The short bob accentuated her long neck which led downwards to a willowy figure, which she seemed to have maintained over the years. She was still stunning, no two ways about it.

I didn't say anything, just drank her in and remembered how her body felt in my hands. Then I remembered the bad times.

"It's been a long time." She said, trying to smile.

I sat down, put the pen and pad of paper on the table, leaned back, and crossed my legs. "Almost ten years."

"More like six."

"Six and a half." I conceded.

She looked back down at the table while I waited.

"Ray's divorcing me." She looked at a picture on the wall to her right. "Says he's going to get full custody of the kids, too. Says by the time he's finished he'll leave me in the streets."

She tightened her lips and announced that she had packed her bags the week before and moved in with a friend but that he -- Ray - had cancelled her cards and taken her off the bank account so she had no access to money and was relying on money her parents were sending her for everything including looking after her two children. Her parents lived in a small town in Michigan.

It sounded like many other cases I had handled from both sides. "Who's Ray?"

"My husband."

"I figured that much. Why's he so all powerful, is my question."

"Ray Hollis." She said, looking back at me before searching out another picture on the walls. "I know you've heard of him." I shook my head. "His family owns Hollis Construction."

I nodded. "Okay?"

"They're loaded. He says he's going to get a battery of lawyers and take it all. Keep me from ever seeing my children again. It's not that he wants them. He just wants to hurt me for daring to stand up to him." She looked back at me, her eyes not leaving mine. "Erik, you've got to help me."

"No, Shannon, I don't."

Her shoulders slumped further. "I knew you'd say that."

"Why's he leaving you, as if I really need to ask?"

She looked back at me, her green eyes flashing with fury. "Fuck you." She spat out.

"No," I said. "It wasn't fucking me."

"I don't..."

I leaned across the table, my face inches from hers. "Of course you don't, because you're not a lawyer. But if you need a lawyer, you'd better be prepared to answer that question and many more. Do you understand?"

She looked up, hopefully. "You'll help me then?"

I sat back. "No, Shannon, I won't help you. You can't afford me. But I'll give you some referrals."

"How do you know I can't afford you?"

"Because if you could, you wouldn't be here."

She nodded. "I guess I just figured that... Well, you know."

"That I'd help you for old time's sake? That you treated me so well I'd come running to defend you?"

She looked me in the eyes, tears dripping down both cheeks smudging her eye-liner. "I don't know what I thought. I guess I didn't think." She was really crying now. "That's been the problem lately. I just can't think straight."

I pushed a box of tissues toward her. She took a few and wiped her eyes. Those same eyes I used to loose myself in -- although they were red-rimmed and not too clear right now.

"Don't tell me, let me guess," I said. "You married this Ray Hollis guy because he could take you out and show you a good time, buy you a mansion, a fancy sportscar, entry to the country club and give you the kids you wanted. I mean, that's the whole enchilada, right?"

"Don't go there, Erik," her eyes flashed, "I wouldn't do that."

I nodded. "Sure you would. Get what you want and then do what you wish to anyone, with anyone."

"You don't understand." She slapped her hand on the table. "I was faithful. He's the one who left me at home alone while he and his friends went whoring around."

"Oh, but I do understand. You were always ready to trade up. All you had to do was bat your eyelids and shake your ass and it all came to you Shannon, that's the way you've always been. It's the way you'll always be."

She ignored my less than stellar appraisal of her character. "I thought I loved him but he didn't love me, he wanted me as a trophy, something to show off at the club and with his friends and family. And he got me, which is all he ever wanted and once I was pregnant he lost interest, he got tired of me, he moved along to the next whore who would share his bed."

I leaned back, locking my hands behind my head. "Sounds like two peas in a pod. You two are perfect for each other."

She ignored that too, sniffed hard and continued. "It was okay. I wasn't real happy about it, but I was prepared to forgive him at first. Then when I realised he wouldn't change I was prepared to look the other way." The tears were pouring out now. "I really tried to make this work for the sake of the children." She angrily pulled out another handful of tissues and wiped her eyes, crumpled the soggy mess and dropped it on the table in front of her. "But then he started slapping me around." She looked at me, as if gauging the effect her allegation had. I remained impassive. "You don't believe me." Her eye flashed again.

"It doesn't really matter what I believe. It only matters what I can prove."

She reached into her purse and pulled out her i-phone. "How about these?" she said, flicking through a series of selfies shot against a mirror.

I glanced down. Yep, she seemed to have some proof, not that his attorneys wouldn't go after it and try to shoot it all down.

"Okay, you've got some proof. Why do you need me? "

"This doesn't make you mad? You don't give a shit at all?"

I scrolled through the photos. He liked kidney shots and punches to the stomach and ribs. Nothing that would show outside a dress. I put the pile back down in front of her. "No. " I said. "I guess I quit giving a shit a lifetime ago."

Her shoulders slumped. "Erik, no one else will represent me. At least no one worth hiring. I've tried. They all want too much money, and he won't give me access to money to hire anyone. She reached for her iPhone again and swiped the screen and showed me a picture of two adorable little girls. They were identical twins. Not having children myself I guessed their age at somewhere between three and four. They had the same eyes as their mother with fluffy blond hair and dimples as they smiled into the camera. "Kerry and Kayla" she said. Somebody obviously had a thing for names starting with K.

"Look at my little angels Erik." She pleaded. "They need their mommy and I need them. Ray doesn't care enough, he just wants to leave me with nothing for daring to stand up to him." I almost relented for a moment then remembered that regardless of those two little angels, their mother was a bitch. Perhaps they'd be better with their asshole father - Probably not...

"What about your parents." I thought out loud. "Can't they help you?" She was shaking her head no.

'They're retired and not in a position to help me unless they re-mortgage their home and I can't ask them to do that." She stopped looked me in the eyes, chewing her bottom lip. "I don't really know how to say this."

I raised my eyebrows; she looked down at the table and spoke softly. "Erik, I'll do anything if you represent me. Anything."

I leaned forward, my face near hers, my lips close to her ear. "What do you mean, 'anything'?"

"I mean anything. Whatever you want. You name the terms. You want me to come back to you, I'll do it. You want to fuck me, I'll do it. I mean anything."

I leaned back, saying nothing. She continued to stare at everything other than me, then a teardrop fell on the table before her. After a moment, she looked up. Tears were dripping down her face. "Aren't you going to say something?"

"First," I said, crossing my arms. "Why would I want you back? You're second-hand goods." She sobbed out loud. "Second, why would I want to sleep with you? Been there, done that. Third, If I represent you here, give you twenty, thirty, forty grand in legal services -- you will what, sleep with me once? Christ, I don't know how good you think you are, but pros charge $500 a night out here. I know, I've represented them."

She saw a glimmer of hope. "So if we could work out an arrangement, then maybe...."

I shook my head. "No, Shannon, we couldn't. It's unethical, and I have no reason to believe you won't report me once you use me to get what you want."

Her hands flew across the table and grabbed my left hand. "Erik, set your terms. I don't care what they are, just set them. I won't tell anyone, swear on the life of my babies that I won't."

I took a deep breath and started thinking. It took a few minutes, while she kept crying and emptying the tissue box. Eventually the puzzle started to come together nicely.

"All right, Shannon, here's how it'll work." I took her hands and held them tight. "You'll get billed at the normal rates. You will be billed every week. Afterwards, you will come to my house the first Saturday night following your receipt of the bill. Got it?" I looked at her. After a moment, she nodded. "You have, of course the right to review your bills. If there's anything you think is excessive or incorrect, we will discuss it and negotiate a resolution. I will be absolutely fair on this point, treat you just like I do all of my other clients. Okay?" Again, she nodded. She was getting nervous though, waiting for the hammer to fall.

I leaned forward and whispered. "For every thousand dollars on that bill you owe me, you will spend a Saturday night with me. Doing, as you said, anything."

Her eyes opened wide. "But that could be..."

"Exactly," I said, "that could be a lot of Saturday nights. And you can't get behind in your bill, either. So if the bill is two grand, you've got to spend the next two Saturday nights after getting the bill paid."

"But that's not fair." She cried. "That's not what I proposed."

"No, it's not. But it's what I propose. And it is fair. I'm essentially paying you twice what a hooker would get, so the terms are actually more than fair."

"But I'm not a hooker," she said. Tears were streaming down her face. "I don't know," she whimpered.

"But wait." I laughed in her face, "there's more! At the end of every month, I will give you cash equal to the nights spent with me. Two nights, two grand, three nights, three grand and so on. You will then get a money order payable to my law firm and immediately pay the bill with the money I give you. Understand?" She nodded. "Second," I continued, "anything means just what it says. Anything. Understand?"

She lost colour and paused, looked at the table, then at her hands. Anything not to look at me directly. Eventually she nodded.

"Shannon, if you don't follow these rules, I will immediately withdraw as your attorney. You'll have no evidence of our arrangement, and you'll probably lose custody of your kids. Possibly wind up on the streets or stuck at your parents, flat broke and with nothing to show after your years of marriage. Do you understand?" I leaned forward and took her chin in my hand and raised her face till I was looking in her eyes. "You don't have to decide now." She tried to look away but I held her face to mine and locked eyes. I was unflinching "Do you understand?" She nodded, broken.

"I'll get started on your case immediately after you complete the paper work my PA will give you. I'll know what your answer is on the first Saturday after the first bill. If you show up, we've got a deal. If you don't, I'll withdraw."