The Movie Star and My Wife

"So far, I'm right there with you," I said. "How are you going to accomplish this."

"I'm not going to accomplish this; we are."

Now I was confused. What could I possibly do to hit back at my wife, let alone Brad Talbot? "You're going to have to spell it out because I don't see how I can do anything."

"First things first," she said. "To get the maximum effect from what I want to do, I need you to slowly begin a dialog with your wife toward a possible reconciliation. I'm going to do the same thing with Brad. Right now, I'm not speaking to him. I'd say that after two or three weeks, I'll start talking to Brad, and you should let your wife move home with you around the same time. I'll let you know when. You'll still keep your distance, and you mustn't sleep with her."

"Why would I let her back in the house?"

"Because, once she's home, we'll have dinner together, and I'll explain my plan. I still have some pieces of my plan that I want to think about."

I was still unsure about this, but I didn't have any better ideas, so I decided to go with it. The first thing I did was call my parents and tell them I'd pick the girls up in half an hour. Then I called my administrative assistant, Joanie, and told her I'd be working from home for the next week or so. I could tell from her voice that she already knew the story about Brad and my Abbie. She was very sympathetic and told me to let her know if there was anything she could do to help.

Finally, I called Abbie's parent's house. Abbie's father answered the phone and was extremely apologetic. He had seen some of the news coverage, and he was mortified. But he was immensely relieved when I asked to speak to Abbie. She broke down in sobs on the phone. She kept saying how sorry she was and wanted to come home, so that we could talk about it.

"Look, Abbie," I said calmly, "I think it would be good for us to be apart for a while. I'm going to work from home next week. You have to work Monday through Wednesday. Why don't you plan to pick up the girls Wednesday evening? We'll talk about everything then. I'll plan to take the girls on Sunday evening."

"Please, John," she cried, "I want to come home now. I want us to be a family. Don't you want us to be a family anymore?"

"I thought we were a family," I said with sadness. "But then you made me doubt everything I thought we had. I'll see you on Wednesday evening, say around five."

I picked up the girls and told them mommy was spending a few days with Pop-Pop and granny. They had many questions about why, but that subject fell away when I pulled into the parking lot for Chuck E Cheese. The girls raced around playing games for two or three hours, and then we had dinner there. The phone was ringing right as we got home. I looked at the caller ID but didn't recognize it. When I answered, a reporter asked me if I wanted to comment about my wife's affair with Brad Talbot. I slammed the phone down. After that, the phone rang every five minutes. I finally took it off the hook and just left it off. At about six, my cellphone started ringing. It was Abbie.

"Why aren't you answering the phone?" she demanded immediately.

"Because it's been nothing but reporters wanting me to comment on your affair with Brad Talbot."

"There is no affair," Abbie snarled. "I told you nothing happened."

"Well, then you need to tell the rest of the world because, for some reason, they don't believe that," I said sarcastically.

There was dead silence on the other end of the line. Then Abbie asked if she could talk to the girls? So, I put them on the line and sat listening to this side of the conversation. They were bubbling over about their day at Chuck E Cheese. Finally, Stacy handed me the phone and told me that mommy wanted to talk to me. Abbie again begged to be allowed to come home. I told her I needed more time.

Wednesday evening, Abbie was there about four instead of five. I was a little annoyed that she disregarded my instructions. But I decided to let it go. The girls were excited to see her, and Abbie smothered them in kisses. When she came to me to kiss me, I backed away. She looked at me in hurt and annoyance.

"So, it's going to be like that," she said testily. "If that's the case, maybe I should just take the girls and go."

"If that's what you want to do," I said calmly and started to walk away.

"No," Abbie said quickly with a little panic in her voice, "I think we should sit and talk about our problems."

The girls went off to pack their overnight bags because Abbie had told them that they would be visiting with their grandparents.

"What are we going to do?" Abbie asked after an awkward silence.

"I wish I knew," I answered. "Right now, I'm hurt, humiliated, and angry. Got any suggestions on how I get rid of the big three?"

"All I can do is apologize," Abbie said, trembling slightly. "I made a huge mistake. Please, please, forgive me. I don't want to lose you."

"Abbie, it's not that simple," I said, sitting back and crossing my arms across my chest. "To the entire world, I'm viewed as a cuckold. My wife cheated on me, and I didn't do anything about it."

Abbie began to cry. "I never meant to hurt you. I was just so thrilled to be able to meet Brad Talbot and see his house. I knew you'd be a little annoyed with me, but I never thought it would turn into this mess."

"Abbie, I want you to know that I truly hope that we can find a way past this," I said, and her face brightened for a moment, "but I also want you to know that I've consulted an attorney. If it turns into a divorce, I want you to know that I'll be seeking full custody of the girls. I think you should get an attorney of your own."

"I don't want a divorce," she started to cry. "And I won't let you take my girls away from me."

"Abbie, I'm not saying we will divorce, but I think we need to think of the worst-case scenario. And I'm not trying to hurt you," I lied. "But I think that you need to keep in mind, that with your recent notoriety, the courts might view my petition for custody very favorably."

"Please don't do this," Abbie pleaded. "I'll do anything to get us back together."

"Why don't we just continue talking," I offered. "In fact, why don't we have lunch next Sunday when you hand off the girls."

"Suppose I decide to keep the girls with me," she said with a flash of anger in her voice. "I don't like passing them back and forth. I don't think it's good for them."

"If you do that, then I'll have no choice but to start divorce proceeding immediately. And remember, you've tarnished your name. I believe that courts will not look kindly on you."

All the fight bled out of Abbie at that point. "I won't do that. I don't want a divorce."

At the beginning of the second week, I went back to my office. My assistants were very sympathetic. Some of my customers, not so much so. Two in particular thought it was really funny and began giving me the business. I politely asked them to drop the subject, but they continued to tease me. I'd had enough. I told them that I was severing our relationship and transferring their portfolios to another office. Even though both tried to apologize, I told them our relationship was ended. The word got around to my clients, and there was no more talk about my wife and Brad.

At about two that afternoon, I got a call from Rita.

"Do you have plans for tonight?" she asked.

When I indicated that I didn't, she said, "good, because you're having dinner with me at the Zoom-Zoom Room at seven. A tie and jacket are required." Then she hung up.

I was a little surprised when Rita told me she had reservations at the Zoom-Zoom Room. It is the most exclusive restaurant in the city. It usually takes a year to get reservations, and it is unbelievably expensive.

At seven, I arrived and was directed to a private dining room in the back. It only had a table for two, but the room was quite lavishly decorated. There was even a velvet couch there. My mind lit up with scenes of possible activity that had taken place on that piece of furniture.

About five minutes later, the door opened, and I saw Rita Sommers walk in. As I bolted to my feet, I realized that she was quite literally breathtaking. I did not doubt that the restaurant would have come to a complete stop when Rita walked in. I estimated that she was about five foot four or thereabouts. She had long blonde hair, soft brown eyes, and a figure that wouldn't quit. But it was the smile that drew you in. It made you tingle. For the life of me, I couldn't imagine why Brad would cheat on a woman like this.

"May I call you, John?" she asked as she sat down across from me.

I nodded and asked, "What should I call you?"

"Rita, of course," that gentle giggle made me smile.

We ordered drinks and sat talking for a bit. I told Rita a little bit about my job, but I mostly told her funny stories about my girls or me as an awkward teenager. Then the waiter returned and took our order. I didn't want to push Rita, but I was chafing at the bit to find out what her plan was. I desperately wanted to save my marriage, but I was clueless about how to do it. When we finished eating, she settled back in her chair.

"First of all, John," Rita said with a sad smile, "that sleazy snake, Chad Tompkins orchestrated this whole mess. He fancies himself a movie agent, but he's nothing more than a pimp. He sets up gullible men and women to be taken advantage of by movie stars. You wouldn't believe the number of people, especially married women, who get bedded by movie stars with Chad's assistance."

"You're talking to someone who knows firsthand," I said with a snarl. "However, I didn't know what Chad's job was exactly. At least, I was able to have him arrested."

"Really?" Rita's eyes brightened. "That is good news. But you really shouldn't be too hard on your wife. I believe that Brad could have charmed Mother Teresa's panties off her. As you know, your wife isn't the first married woman to fall under his spell, but I intend to make her the last. And if I can't accomplish that, what I propose will at least pay him and your wife back for the hurt they have caused us. I can't promise that once my plan is played out, either one of us will still be with our significant others. However, regardless, we will have the satisfaction that we didn't take our betrayals lying down."

I was somewhat taken aback by Rita's willingness to cut my wife some slack. But I was very pleased to hear that there was going to be some payback. Now I just wanted her to tell me how we were going to do it.

"What exactly are you proposing?" I asked.

"Before I get into the particulars, I just want to say that you are an extremely handsome man. You're also quite charming. I think your wife was a fool to jeopardize your marriage. If we had met under different circumstances, I could have been very interested."

"That is very kind of you to say, but we both know that we travel in completely different worlds. And you are beyond stunning, but even more so than that, you're a compassionate person."

"You're very kind. You are, of course, right about our two different worlds, but it doesn't change the fact that I find you very attractive."

"Thank you," was all I could think to say because I wanted to know the plan. "So, what are we going to do next?"

"Over the next two weeks, I intend to become a client of yours."

"Excuse me. I don't understand. A client?"

"Yes, you do offer financial advice to your clients, don't you?" Rita said with a smirk.

"Yes, of course." I still didn't understand where she was going.

"Then I intend to invest some money with you," she said simply. "However, we'll have to have three or four meetings to discuss the arrangements. I think four would be the ideal number. Two of those meetings will be at your office, and two will be at lunch meetings. I'll pick the places."

"Okay," I said, still unsure about why I was going to do that. "I can set up an account, but you'll have to have to invest a minimum of ten thousand dollars."

"Oh, I intend to invest way more than that," she said, smiling wider. "You, in the meantime, will not tell your wife that I am your client. You will continue to meet with her and discuss reconciliation. In two weeks, you will let her move home, but you won't sleep with her. On the fifteenth of October, you and your wife will attend the "Reading is Critical Gala." It is a charity that I helped found and have worked with for five years now. Most people don't associate the charity with me, which is how I like it. I attend every other year. Normally, I wouldn't attend this year because I was at the last gala. However, I will be attending this year, and you and your wife are also going to be there."

"Okay, I was right there with you until the charity gala. I know for a fact that tickets to that event are twenty thousand dollars each. I can't justify spending that kind of money."

Rita giggled again, then smiled. The tingle went from the top of my head down to my toes. "Your tickets will be complimentary. You'll just tell your wife that a client gave them to you."

"I still don't see how this accomplishes anything," I was getting frustrated now.

"Well, you see, John, part of the night's entertainment is an escort auction."

"An escort auction?

"Not that kind of escort," she giggled again. "We auction off willing men to the women in attendance. The woman or man who bids the most for a particular individual gets to put a sort of slave collar on them. Then the men are at the mercy of the women who have paid for them," Rita said with a laugh before continuing. "Most of them are bachelors, but married men put themselves up, so their wives can bid on them. Occasionally, a married man is won by someone other than his wife. I assume that those married men are on their best behavior because, if not, their wives would cut their balls off. However, at this year's gala, a married man will be auctioned off, and his wife isn't going to win the bid. And what happens after isn't going to be innocent."

I still had a look of befuddlement on my face. Rita laughed and patted my hand. "You are the married man who will be auctioned off. And I am the one who is going to have the winning bid. So, you simply have to rent a tuxedo, buy your wife a new dress, and be my guests."

It suddenly hit me what Rita was planning, and it was brilliant. Both Brad and Abbie were going to get to feel what it had been like for us. Of course, I realized that this was all for show, but still just spending the night with Rita Sommers while everyone assumed the worst would go a great deal toward balancing the scales. It would take the horns off me as a cuckold and put them on Brad. Also, my wife would feel the hurt and humiliation that I felt. Then, maybe, we could sit down with a counselor and put this all behind us.

The next weeks went by very quickly. I have to say that the first time that Rita came into my office, I thought all the girls there were going to pee their pants. Our lunch meetings were in very discrete restaurants. I didn't understand why we were holding these meetings in secret. Everything of substance could have been discussed in my office. Most of the time, we were just telling each other stories. They were fun luncheons, and I learned a lot about Rita and Brad. She truly did love him. And she would be devastated if they broke up, but she was prepared to dump him if he was going to continue his old ways.

A week before the gala, I allowed Abbie to come home. However, I told her I would be sleeping in the guest room. She was hurt but didn't push it. The Wednesday before the gala, I came home with the tickets, and Abbie's eyes lit up. She began to gush about all the celebrities that would be there. Then she scolded me for spending that amount of money.

"It didn't cost me anything," I told her. "One of my clients asked me if I could use the tickets. I thought it would be a fun evening. By the way, I think you should get a new dress for the night. Get something sexy."

Abbie was floating on a cloud. I almost felt sorry for her. But then I thought back to that evening when I thought it would be a magical night for the two of us, only to be made to look like a fool. It was time for her to feel my pain.

When we arrived, we found about five hundred people already there. When we checked in, there was a table where you could sign up to be part of the auction. I saw a line of men filling out the forms. There were five really good-looking men in line, so I turned to Abbie.

"What do you say, Abbie?" I asked innocently, pointing at the table. "It is a charity, and we didn't pay anything for the tickets. What do you say that I sign up, and you can bid on me?"

Abbie giggled, but it wasn't near as musical as Rita's. "I don't have any money, and I didn't even bring my wallet because it wouldn't fit in this bag."

As per Rita's suggestion, I had cash with me. "Here's a thousand dollars. I doubt you'll have to pay more than fifty, but it is a charity, so offer at least two hundred."

"You're worth the whole thousand dollars and much, much more," Abbie said with a wide smile.

I got in line, and when I got to the front, I filled out the form and signed it. I looked at the list, and it appeared like there were about eighteen or twenty guys signed up. If I didn't know this was a setup, I would never have had the nerve to do it.

As I was about to turn away, a woman at the desk said, "you checked that you're married?"

I nodded, and she pulled another form out. "I hope your wife is with you, or you won't be able to participate. She needs to fill this form out and sign it."

I motioned over Abbie and explained what they wanted. She quickly filled it out. What Abbie didn't realize, because she didn't read the form, was that she was agreeing to allow me to do whatever was requested by the winning bidder. After the paperwork was completed, we went in search of our table. Rita had put us at a table with two starlets, one television anchor, and two actors on a national soap opera. My wife had stars in her eyes, not only from the people at our table but also from the other gala celebrities.

When the auction began, all the men offering themselves were called up. I smiled at my wife and started up. As it turned out, there were twenty-four participants. And I'm sure it was by Rita's design that I was left to last. By the time I was the last one on stage, they had already raised well over three hundred thousand dollars. And I have to admit that the bidding was lively and amusing.

"Our last participant is a local man," the announcer, a well know game show host, said. "His name is John Sawyer, and he's married with two children. I'm sure his wife is out there somewhere emptying the piggy bank. So, what do you say should we start the bidding at fifty dollars?"

"I think he's worth at least a hundred," an older woman up front yelled out. "Can you do dishes, dearie?

I laughed and called back, "I can wash them and dry them." This brought a big laugh from the crowd.

"That's more than my husband can do," another older woman cried. "I'll give two hundred."

Then it went to five hundred. Finally, I heard Abbie yell out, "I'll give one thousand dollars."

This brought a cheer. But almost immediately, a younger woman offered two thousand dollars. Before I knew it, the bid was up to five thousand. I looked over at Abbie, and she was looking around, totally confused. I just shrugged at her.

Out of the back of the room came a bid of ten thousand dollars. This was quickly followed by one for fifteen thousand dollars. If I hadn't known this was all being staged, I might have gotten a swelled head. The bid hit twenty-five thousand dollars, and I was getting a little nervous. I thought a few thousand dollars would seal the deal. This was way more than I expected.