Trading Control for Love Pt. 01

Darkness was about an hour away. The northerly breeze made the 35-degree temperature feel like 28. The clear late November sky meant the air would be much colder after sunset. My brother and I were finished with an afternoon of quail hunting on his land. What little snow had fallen so far this season was gone. Just as we decided to call it a day, the dogs barked loud and long. We followed the noise.

With tails wagging, the dogs stood on either side of an unconscious naked woman sitting on the dead brown grass against a tree. Each wrist was tightly wrapped in a chain which went around the oak. A message on her chest read "Too Late!".

I dialed 911 while John ran to his truck. I put my hunting jacket over her then used one round from my 20 gauge shotgun to break the chain. She slumped forward. I felt a pulse and kept the jacket on her. John drove up with 2 wool blankets in hand. We pushed her legs against the torso and wrapped her as best we could.

The sheriff and medics arrived about 15 minutes later. We told them everything we knew. The medics whisked her to the hospital. The sheriff's staff combed the area and found some foot prints and vehicle tracks which didn't match our shoes or John's truck.

Back at John's house, we cleaned and dressed the quail while filling in his wife about the woman. I hurried home wanting to catch the late night news for more information about our discovery.

Nothing appeared in the local papers, radio, TV, or even the internet. We gave up after a few days wondering what her fate was and decided this mystery would follow us to our graves.

About two weeks later, a registered letter arrived in the mail from attorney Meredith Kimbrough. The letter requested I contact her to arrange a time regarding the woman we found. I called John to verify he had the same letter. We agreed I would contact her. I called the office and told her assistant who I was. Within a moment, I spoke with Ms. Kimbrough.

Her voice was pleasant but strictly professional. An appointment two days from now at 10:00 AM was agreed on. We hung up then I called my younger brother to verify the day and time.

We arrived at 9:45. The décor could best be described as "quietly successful" with overstuffed furniture, rich carpeting, dark wood paneling, and plenty of space. Promptly at 10:00, the receptionist called our names and pointed us down a hall. He said to go right in. At the end was a door with her name on a large brass placard. I opened the door and we entered an office furnished like the reception area only bigger. The shelves were filled with books ranging from law texts to genealogy to accounting to forensics.

Ms. Kimbrough stood up, shook our hands, then asked us to sit down in the two overstuffed leather chairs facing her while she looked in her desk drawer. Her attire was professional with a dark blue jacket and skirt contrasted with a white top. Her red hair was in a style which seemed current but also easy to maintain. Her height was just over 5 feet. She laid the folder on the immaculate mahogany desk. After reviewing the contents she seemed satisfied everything was in order. She looked up and smiled slightly.

Lacing her hands she said, "Thank you for coming. My client is grateful you found her. The medics said if she had been chained to that tree over night she would have frozen to death. As a token of appreciation, I am authorized to give each of you a check for $100,000."

We looked at each other not knowing what to say.

John cleared his throat replying, "This is a first. Robert is rarely at a loss for words. So, on behalf of us both, thank you very much. I know my money will be used to pay some old loans and debts."

His speech allowed me time to collect my thoughts.

"If $100,000 will help, then an additional $100,000 will help even more. Would you mind making out a second check payable to John for another $100,000?"

"Robert, I don't know what to say," he sputtered.

"Just say you will take it," I replied.

Attorney Kimbrough asked if I was certain about this and I assured her I was. She swiveled to her monitor and typed up a brief message. Within a few minutes there was a knock and a woman entered the room. She handed the check to Ms. Kimbrough who reviewed it then handed it over to John.

He looked like he was about to cry.

"Why are you giving up $100,000?" she asked.

"Simple. He needs the money more than I do. I don't have the crushing debt he has to cope with running a ranch. I'm not independently wealthy but I do OK. By the way, who is the person we helped rescue? Nothing ever appeared on the news about her."

The attorney said, "My client wishes to remain anonymous. She was taken by an ambulance to a private hospital where she made a full recovery. That is all I can tell you."

A few moments of awkward silence ended as she stood, thanked us for coming, led us to the door, gave us her business card, and wished us well.

John rushed to the bank and deposited both checks. A few days later, he called me.

"Those checks were legitimate! They cleared the bank and I'm getting some debts paid off. That extra $100,000 certainly helped, Robert. Thanks again."

"You are welcome. You would do the same for me if the tables were turned."

"Don't be so sure," he chuckled.

I was glad I entered the attorney information in my cell phone because she called me a few days later.

"Ms. Kimbrough. This is a pleasant surprise."

"Hello Mr. Lawrence. My client still wants to express her gratitude for saving her life. How much would you consider a fair amount?"

"No money is needed. However, I would like to have dinner with her at the restaurant of her choice. I have some questions about why she was on my brother's land and what happened."

"You are definitely not run-of-the-mill. Let me relay your request to my client and I will get back with you."

"Thank you Ms. Kimbrough."

She called 2 days later.

"My client is ready to meet you at Stevenson & Sons this coming Thursday at 8:00 PM. Are you familiar with it?"

"I've heard of it. Do I need a tux or will suit and tie do?"

She chuckled. "Suit and tie is fine. Just be sure the jacket and slacks match and the tie is a conservative pattern. The socks must be dark and shoes black. Sorry, no hunting jackets allowed."

"How did you know I have a hunting jacket?"

"My client remembered you putting one over her."

"I'm surprised. I thought she was completely out."

"Your kind act is one of the few things she remembers."

"Changing the subject," I said, "how will I recognize her?"

"Tell the Maître d there is a reservation in your name. She will be at the table."

I ended the conversation by thanking her and saying I looked forward to Thursday evening.

Concentrating on my livelihood of writing and editing proved impossible. I checked on the internet for top of the line men's clothiers and went out that afternoon. $800 later, I had a very nice black suit with matching slacks, gold tie, a white Oxford cloth shirt, and a black double breasted top coat with matching muffler. I still had trouble concentrating when I returned home and the next day. A couple of conference calls helped move the time. Finally, the work day ended. I showered, shaved, dressed, then drove to Stevenson & Sons arriving at 7:48. Tipping the parking attendant $20, I went into the building. The elevator took me to the top floor where I checked in my coat. The Maître d was eyeing me with curiosity since I was a new face.

"Reservation for Robert Lawrence", I said expecting all kinds of static and delay. Immediately I was led to a table in a corner of this very posh restaurant with a beautiful sight of the city. Looking around, it seemed only a few tables had such commanding views and privacy.

She arrived at 8:30 filled with apologies for being late. I stood to greet her and tried helping her sit down but the waiter was ahead of me.

"Thank you Charles," she said as though they were old friends.

She looked at me saying, "So, we meet again. You clean up well. How is your brother?"

"He is fine thanks. His credit rating is higher than ever by paying off loans and debts. He's even got money in savings. Thank you again for the financial aid. I think he might have declared bankruptcy in a few months."

She smiled with satisfaction.

"Shall we order?" she asked.

A quick glance and Charles stood at her side.

"The broiled salmon, please."

She looked at me expectantly.

"The same. Please."

After Charles confirmed the wine, she looked at me.

"My attorney tells me the money I wanted to thank you with for saving my life was turned over to your brother. Why?"

"Well, he needs it more than I do. I'm not wealthy but my debt load is much less. Besides, he is my brother. If the roles were reversed, he would do the same for me."

"You intrigue me. Such honesty and trust is refreshing. I can't think of anyone in my family with such a close relationship."

"WOW! Even your parents?"

"Especially my parents."

Thinking I may have touched a nerve I asked, "How did you keep the information about what happened to you out of the news?"

"My attorney took care of that when she found out what happened. She has full power of attorney so when I stabilized, she arranged the transfer to a private facility. In return for a donation to a new wing the hospital is planning, it was agreed to keep the paperwork at a minimum and safely tucked away."

"What do you remember of the events prior to the dogs finding you?"

For a moment, her eyes looked frightened.

"I suppose I owe you a full explanation. Or at least as much as I know. The Sheriff thinks it might have been a hero kidnapping."

"What is a hero kidnapping?"

"A person is kidnapped, the ransom is paid, and prior to being released, the kidnapper pretends to be someone who accidentally finds the person, frees them, and is adored by the general public."

"What do you think?"

She seemed lost in thought then said, "I have no idea. I only remember walking out the door of my home and feeling a a pin prick. When I woke up, I was naked, immobile, tape over my mouth, and blindfolded. It felt like I was tied to a table. Then the beatings began."

I winced as she described the blows to her body. She sounded detached but her hand shook as she drank the wine.

"So the doctors think the cracked ribs and bruises were with a bar of soap in a sock? Jesus! Who would do such a thing?" I asked.

"I do not know. I remember feeling someone write something on my chest then another pin prick. Your dogs helped me wake up with their barking and licking my face but I was still out of it when you and your brother appeared. By the way, you two were primary suspects in the Sheriff's investigation. Especially when they realized your brother's debt. But your movements showed you could not have done the kidnapping since I live in a gated community."

"That is good to know," I said in a relieved voice. "So you have no idea why my brother's land was chosen?"

"None. The Sheriff thinks it was a random choice with the idea I would be found dead. Which would have worked had it not been for you two."

As we continued eating I asked, "How are you holding up? This must be an ordeal for you."

Her face looked guarded like a trapped animal.

"A bit of a traumatic experience but I am fine. Thank you for asking."

My instinct was to hug this stoic lady and say I am here for her. But it felt what she related was all the vulnerability she could afford to show.

"Did we arrive in time to keep the ransom from being paid?"

She seemed grateful for a question not focused on her.

"No. The $2,000,000 was paid to an untraceable account. My attorney was waiting for word on where to find me when she caught the police scans. She was at the hospital by the time I arrived. Enough about me. What do you do when not rescuing naked damsels chained to trees?"

I explained about being a free-lance writer and online editor of novels and short stories. With a few well worded questions between the salad and main dish, she learned where I was born, my college degrees, that I was divorced, some of my pet peeves, and being 52 years old. Her dark brown eyes seemed to be absorbing everything I said. Suddenly, I was aware of a deep attraction to this brunette with little streaks of grey. The feminine no-nonsense hair style fit her well. The dark gray jacket and skirt with an off-white top accentuated her body and the sexy voice sounded confident yet guarded at the same time.

Finishing the excellent meal, I sipped the wine and found the courage to ask, "Would it be possible to see you again?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Would it be possible to see you again?"

"I thought you only wanted to have dinner with me," she said defensively.

"I did. And I will always be grateful for getting to meet you. But, I like you and would like to see you again, if you don't mind."

She looked at her plate. Her face blushed.

"Did I say something wrong?"

The woman regained her composure then said, "No. I'm not accustomed to being asked on a second date because men usually find me too distant. Frankly, I am OK with that because it saves me a lot of grief and anguish. But you are so different; so down to earth; so real. I want to say yes....."

"But?"

"I am cautious. When something seems too good to be true, it usually is."

"I will take that as a compliment. How about this idea? Check with your attorney about me and I will abide by your decision. By the way, in case this is our only time together, what is your name?"

"Mary Rothman."

My ability to ram my foot in my mouth worked splendidly. With no hesitation I asked, "Are you related to the Rothman family which is the source of so many outlandish conspiracy theories centering on them running the world?"

"The same. I am 6th generation of evil incarnate."

My shocked expression amused her.

"I think I just blew my chances of a second date. Time to exit before I do any more harm." I signaled to Charles who ignored me until Ms. Rothman looked his way. He took her solid black credit card while I pathetically held my blue Visa.

While he was away, I asked if I could at least take care of the tip. She held up a $100 bill and told me the tip was covered. Before I could protest, she asked I indulge her as a way of saying thanks for saving her life. I decided my ego could handle the request.

Charles returned with the card and a receipt. She signed it, put the card in her small purse, and gave him the money. He thanked her and pulled out her chair as she rose. I stood up and we walked out to the cold night air. A black Bentley was at the curb and she prepared to enter. She turned around and shook my hand.

"I will convey your offer, Mr. Lawrence. You should hear from my attorney in a day or two. Good night."

With a polite hand shake, she glided into the mobile cocoon. The valet returned with my car a few moments later. I went home in a daze.

The next two days were hell hoping to see her again. In the late afternoon of the second day, attorney Kimbrough called. She got down to brass tacks immediately.

"Ms. Rothman would like to see you again. However, as her attorney, there are some stipulations you are expected to comply with. These are not negotiable and violating them means terminating all dating. Understood?"

"Understood."

"First, no one is to know you two are dating. This includes family and friends. Second, if anyone asks you about dating Ms. Rothman reply with a simple no. If they persist, refer them to me explaining they are engaging in harassment. Third, no photos of you and her will be taken by you or any of your friends and relatives. You are not to buy her gifts for any occasion such as Christmas, New Years, Valentines Day, or her birthday. Finally, the dates will be arranged and paid for my Ms. Rothman. Do you understand and agree with these stipulations?"

"Yes ma'am. Do you need a signed and notarized statement?"

She chuckled saying, "No, as a matter of fact. Ms. Rothman and I agree you are a low risk. But I have prepared a document in which you agree in your work as an independent author and editor, nothing will be written or edited by you which in any way appears to be about the Rothman family either as fiction or non-fiction. If you could come to my office at your earliest convenience, I will have the document ready.

I asked, "How about right now?"

"Fine. I am here until 6:00. By the time you arrive I will have the next time and date with Ms. Rothman. Oh, Ms. Rothman was impressed with your choice of clothes. The style and cut were from Winston's, correct?"

"Yes."

"She set up an account in your name so you can add to the wardrobe. You may be on multiple dates and it wouldn't look good to wear the same suit each time."

Attorney Kimbrough had the paper ready when I arrived an hour later. After signing and one of her associates notarizing the document, she told me the time and place for our next date. Another very posh restaurant, with a reservation in my name.

Driving home, I reflected on what I agreed to and was miffed over the rules and the account. As a male, I always paid for the meal when dating. The account bothered me because it was a signal I wasn't able to pay for the proper clothing to be with her. But I also acknowledged Mary Rothman was not a typical date. Socially and financially, she was a major league player while I was high school freshman by comparison. So, I accepted the blow to my bruised ego knowing I wanted to see her again.

Mary arrived just after I did and we enjoyed a delightful meal. I was in a dark gray suit with a light yellow shirt and dark red tie. She was impeccably dressed in another functional yet elegant light tan matching skirt, jacket and shoes with a white blouse. She seemed to be adjusting to the novelty of dating a man who seemed open and honest. And I was adjusting to the wealthiest woman on Earth being also human. We exchanged pleasantries about our activities since the last meal. She always seemed fascinated with what I had done and what I was working on. I, in turn, could never fathom where she found the energy to cram so many activities and meetings into a single day.

This was the first time I noticed her bodyguard. He stood about 6 feet 5 inches, no neck, built like a brick wall, dressed in black except for the white shirt. There appeared to be a large pistol on his belt hidden by the jacket. He never looked at either of us but constantly scanned the room moving his bald head with a minimum of energy. For his size, the man blended in very well standing nearby. Mary said his name was Percival Loving and I doubted anyone ever kidded him about his parents' choice of a first name. Mary explained he came onboard after the kidnapping.

"My attorney and I were impressed with how quickly you signed the non-disclosure agreement. Some men have put up a fight and refused to sign. As you can imagine, that ended the relationship. Why did you sign so willingly?"

"Because I like you very much. Signing is a small price to pay for the opportunity to be with you. I don't know how else to put this, but I like you, Mary. I really do."

Her face struggled to stay stoic but the battle was lost as her red face looked down at the plate.

She looked up saying, "Pardon me. I am not accustomed to such statements, Robert. Thank you very much."

While I was hoping for a reciprocal "and I like you very much, Robert", it seemed that was all she was capable of saying right now. She relaxed a little more with each date. Her responses were still guarded, but every now and then she would stop herself before sharing something. I took that as a good sign she was beginning to trust me a bit more.

A few dates I asked her about parents.

"What would you like to know?"