THE MOVIE STAR AND MY WIFE by StoneyWebb
-My wife, Abbie, loved going to the movies. If I wanted to make my wife happy, all I had to do was take her to a good movie. I couldn't just take her to any movie. It had to be in one of four categories -- animation, action-adventure, drama, or romance. The last category, I believe, is also referred to as "chick flicks." Abbie would also go to just about any movie that started Tom Torino, Matt Wright, or Brad Talbot. They were her favorite actors.
My first date with Abbie was when I took her to see Sleepless in Seattle. She didn't care much for Tom Hanks, but she loved the story. Years after we were married, she admitted that she fell in love with me after that movie. Why she did, I have no idea.
After twelve years of marriage, Abbie is still a very beautiful woman. At five foot six and a hundred and fifteen pounds, she has a great figure. Her dark, emerald green eyes really stand out against her raven hair. When Abbie gets all dressed up, she still turns heads.
My name is John Sawyer, and I'm no slouch either. I'm six feet one and a hundred and eighty pounds. I have sandy colored hair and blue eyes. Many times, Abbie and I have been told that we are a beautiful couple. During my college days, before I met my future wife, I never lacked for female companionship. However, when I met Abbie, I knew I didn't want anyone else. And for twelve years, I thought that Abbie felt the same about me.
We met in our junior year in high school and fell in love. Our love grew during our four years at one of the state's universities, and we were married three months after graduation. Abby is my true love, my soul, my everything. I couldn't imagine life without her. And while we both love our two kids to pieces; it is really had to be spontaneous when their around. Tonight, was going to be just for the two of us.
We had decided to go dancing with three other couples in the city. Since we'd be out late and drinking, we booked rooms at a downtown hotel. We had arranged with my parents to take our two girls for the night, so it was to be a truly special night. It turned out to be something special, alright, but not anything like I thought it would be.
When we got to the nightclub, I couldn't put my finger on it, but the mood seemed off. The women seemed to be keyed up about something, and one of the men seemed kind of smug. Of the three couples, I really liked George and Helen, and also Bob and Anna. George was a software engineer while Helen was a stay at home mom with three kids. Bob owned his own plumbing company, and his wife worked in the office doing the books.
The one couple that I didn't care much for was Chad and Thelma. And in truth, I was fine with Thelma, but I thought Chad was an asshole. But Abbie and Thelma had been roommates in college and remained good friends. So, I had to put up with Chad. As near as I could figure, he had something to do with the motion picture industry. I think Chad said he was an agent or something. From what I could gather, he wasn't terribly successful, but Thelma had a high-paying job as a pharmaceutical representative.
I'm a financial advisor with one of the larger brokerage houses. It was slow going when I first got into the business, but now I have more business than I want. The way it works with my firm is that once you reach a certain number of clients, the firm insists that you train someone and set the new advisor up with your excess customers. Of course, you keep the most profitable clients for yourself. I've had to do that twice already, and I'm getting close to having to do it again. I make a really good living.
Abbie started out working as an administrative assistant for Mike Winston, an executive vice-president for a regional bank. When our two girls came a year apart, Abbie became a stay at home mom until Stacy, our youngest, started first grade. Then one day, Mike called her and explained that he had been promoted to president, and he wondered if she would be interested in working for him part-time. Abbie asked me, and I told her to go for it.
If you're thinking that I made a mistake letting Abbie go back to work, and she's now sleeping with her boss, you would be totally wrong. Mike is sixty-two years old, bald, but even more important, totally devoted to his wife and five kids.
As I said, something was a little off, but I didn't know what it was, and at that moment, I didn't care. I was looking forward to an evening of dancing with my wife and a whole night of loving afterward.
We mingled around the room as we knew several of the other couples there. If you go dancing enough, you get to meet some really nice people. One couple turned out to be an old college friend, Fred Abbot, and his wife, Brenda. I stopped to talk to them while Abbie and the others went to our table.
I was about to rejoin my wife, as the music had just started. But then there was a commotion at the doors. A crowd gathered around the entrance and then parted. Brenda gasped.
"What's wrong?" Fred asked.
"Don't you know who that is?" Brenda was breathless.
I looked over and saw an extremely handsome man. He was only about five foot six or seven, but as a woman would say, "He was gorgeous."
Both Fred and I expressed our ignorance.
"That's Brad Talbot," she gushed. "He and his fiancé, Rita Sommers, are two of the hottest stars in Hollywood."
"Oh yeah," Fred said and began looking past Brad. "I wonder if Rita Sommers is here also. John, on a scale of one to ten, Rita is at least a fifteen."
Brenda slapped her husband's arm playfully. "You would think of that."
As I looked at Brad, I did recognize him. He was one of my wife's favorite actors. I was wondering if I might be able to get an autograph for her. But what happened totally stunned me. Brad walked right up to our table and asked my wife to dance. She didn't hesitate, jumping up and dancing the next four songs with him.
I walked over to the table and sat down, totally pissed. My wife hadn't even asked me if I was okay with her dancing with someone else. When the fifth song started, I went to cut in, but Chad's glass fell to the floor. When he reached to pick up the broken glass, he came up with a bloody hand.
"John, could you help me with this," he asked.
I looked at my wife dancing and then at Chad. I should have just gone to my wife, but instead, I followed Chad into the men's room. However, when I got there, the cut was very minor. Still, I helped him clean it and wrap it in a paper towel. When I got back to the table, I just caught a glimpse of my wife leaving with Brad. I started after them.
Chad was right on my heels, and when we got out the front door and into the parking lot, I saw Abbie getting into a car with Brad. I started to run to catch up to the car. I just saw Brad kissing Abbie's hand as she laughed at something he said when Chad took my legs out from under me. I crashed to the ground but was up in an instant.
"What the fuck's wrong with you?" I yelled.
"Brad's just going to take your wife for a ride," he said with a smirk.
Thelma was there a few seconds later. "It's a dream date for Abbie. She told Chad and me how much she likes Brad, so we arranged for him to take her out."
"That's my fucking wife!" I screamed. "You didn't think I should know about this?"
"Abbie told us that you would say no," Chad said with a smirk. "Just go with the flow."
"Fuck you! You go with this flow!" I yelled as I lashed out and smashed Chad directly on the bridge of his nose. The sound of it breaking was the only good thing about that night. Thelma then launched into me, punching and trying to kick me. Fortunately for me, Fred had seen what was going on and had followed me out. He quickly picked Thelma up and set her down on the other side of him.
"He attacked my husband!" Thelma started screaming.
"No, he didn't," Fred said calmly. "You two attacked him first. He was just defending himself."
Thelma went ballistic and called 911. The police arrived about ten minutes later and began taking statements. Fred maintained his story, and I told the same, adding that Chad had kicked my legs out from under me first. The people who had gathered after the disturbance started had only seen Thelma attacking me. They told the officers that all they saw was me simply trying to get away from her. The final result was that Chad and Thelma were arrested.
By the time the police left, I was devastated. I went back to our table and found the two women smiling.
"Where's everyone else?" Helen asked.
"Chad and Thelma were arrested for assaulting me," I answered, struggling to keep my anger in check. "Abbie left with Brad and seemed very happy about that."
"That wasn't supposed to happen," Anna said. "She was just supposed to go outside with Brad, have a few pictures taken, and then come back to the table."
"My wife and Thelma, apparently, didn't tell you what the real plan was," I said as I got up to get a drink.
Fred caught up to me at the bar.
"Are you going to be alright?" he asked.
"I don't know what the fuck is going on," I admitted. "I hope my wife has just gone for a ride with that movie star and will be back shortly. When she gets back, we're going to have a very unfriendly discussion."
"Look, John," Fred said with concern, "I don't want to stoke the fires, but Brenda told me that Brad Talbot is a notorious womanizer. He seems to get his jollies bedding married women. I hope that's not Abbie, but I think you should prepare for the worst."
My heart sunk into my stomach. I didn't know what to do. But I told Fred, I'd be okay. Before I headed back to the table, I tried to call Abbie on her cellphone. It went immediately to voice mail. The atmosphere was very awkward when I sat down. The wives looked very ashamed, and their husbands looked furious. I continued to try to call Abbie with no success. Finally, the other two couples said they were heading back to the hotel. I told them I was staying for a bit to see if Abbie came back.
I waited for a half-hour before heading to the hotel. I waited there until three am in the morning, calling Abbie's phone every ten minutes. Finally, in disgust, I checked out and headed home. I got there about four and sat on the couch. I must have fallen asleep because the sun shining through our bay window woke me up. It was now seven in the morning. I checked our bedroom, but Abbie wasn't back yet. Then I checked my cellphone, and there were no messages from Abbie. So, I logged onto my computer and pulled up our Facebook page. It had blown up with pictures of Brad and Abbie leaving the nightclub, pictures of them going to his house, pictures of Abbie going into Brad's house on his arm.
I searched the Hollywood websites, and they were all blowing up by Brad's latest married woman conquest. I was beyond furious at this point. I immediately called my attorney, and since it was Saturday, my call was forwarded to his house. Since I had woken him, he wasn't too pleased to hear from me until I explained what was going on. He convinced me to do nothing until Abbie came home and explained her behavior.
Finally, at about eleven, the front door opened, and Abbie came in with a huge smile on her face. The smile disappeared when she saw the look on my face.
"We didn't do anything," Abbie said immediately. "We just spent the night talking. I know I should have asked you, but I was sure that you'd say no. You know how much I love going to the movies and how Brad Talbot is one of my favorite actors. Last night was like a fairy tale. Nothing happened, John. I still love you with all of my heart."
I just glared at her, and I could almost feel steam blowing out my ears. "I want you to pack up your shit and go to your parents. I can't stand the sight of you right now."
"John, why are you making a big deal out of it?" she with annoyance and a little fear in her voice. "We just talked. There was nothing to it. It isn't a big deal."
"It is a big fucking deal to me," I said through gritted teeth. "I don't believe for a second that nothing happened. But for argument sake, let's pretend that nothing did happen. You still embarrassed me in front of the whole world."
"Now you're just being overly dramatic, John," Abbie said, putting her hands on her hips. "Outside of our group, no one knows anything. And Helen and Anna know it was just a harmless adventure for me."
"You, stupid bitch," I snapped, which caused Abbie recoil. I had never spoken to her like this before. "It's the top story on all the Hollywood news sites. They have pictures of you and Brad leaving the nightclub, going to his house, and by now, there are probably pictures of you leaving his house sometime this morning. I think our marriage is over. So, get your shit and get out before I do something I'll regret."
"Please, John, I'm sure that you're exaggerating," Abbie was on the verge of tears now. "I love you with all my heart. I'm sorry if I upset you, but nothing happened. I knew you'd be annoyed, but I thought you'd give me a pass when you knew that nothing happened. We have to work this out. Think of the girls."
"You didn't think about your girls when you sped off into the night with your asshole movie star," I hissed at her. "How would you like Stacie or Gail doing something like that when they're of age?"
Abbie turned pale at those comments and then dissolved into tears. "I'm so, so sorry, John. I didn't think it would be this big a deal. I made a mistake. Please forgive me."
"You're right; you didn't think," I was beyond reason and getting angrier by the minute. I had to get Abbie out of the house before I did something I would truly regret. So, I left her standing in the entranceway and headed to our bedroom. I pulled a suitcase out of the closet and began throwing Abbie's clothes into it.
"I'll do it," Abbie said through her sobs after a few minutes. Then she slowly packed up the suitcase and carried it downstairs. I didn't even offer to carry it for her. I waited until she was out the front door before I slammed it hard. I peeked out the front window to make sure she left. I could see her put the bag in the trunk and get into the driver's seat. Then she put her head down on the steering wheel and sobbed. I wanted to go out and comfort her, but I was too damn mad.
After about twenty minutes, she started the car and drove away. I immediately called my parents and explained to them what had happened. I asked if they would keep the girls for a bit more. And if Abbie showed up, tell her I had them. They agreed. Then I was left to contemplate the ruins of my marriage. I began running everything back and forth in my head.
Abbie claimed that nothing happened. Could that be true? I didn't know, but my gut told screamed that she was lying. Could I live with what she had done and try to move forward? If, as she believed, no one knew about it except our friends, maybe. Now that it had gone viral, I didn't see any way forward for our marriage. I desperately wanted to get back at both of them, but I could think of nothing to accomplish this. I cried for at least an hour, pounding the walls and the doors as I walked around.
I felt so impotent. I knew there was no way I could get back at Brad. He was a Hollywood hot shit, and there was no way I could touch him. And I knew a divorce would hurt me financially, but if it came to that, I was prepared to work from home and sue for full custody of the girls. Since I was, obviously, the more stable of the two parents, I felt I had an excellent shot at that. I don't think Abbie ever considered that her actions might actually lose her the girls. But the thought of the damage a divorce would do to my daughters sent me spiraling further down.
About one o'clock, I was just making some more coffee when the phone rang. So far, the media hadn't gotten my phone number, but I knew that wouldn't last.
"Hello," I answered the phone.
"Is this John Sawyer, and is your wife's name Abbie," a female voice asked me.
"Look," I snapped, "I'm not in the mood to talk to any reporters."
There was a gentle giggle that sounded a little like bells ringing. "Good," the voice said, "I hate talking to them also."
"Who is this?" I asked about ready to slam down the phone.
"My name is Rita Sommers," she responded softly. "I think you are already familiar with my fiancé, Brad Talbot?"
"Yeah, I'm familiar with the asshole," I didn't know where this conversation was going, but I wanted to be done with it as quickly as possible.
"Do you love your wife?" Rita asked.
The question seemed to come out of left field. I sighed. "Despite everything my wife's done, I do still love her. However, after everything that's happened, I don't think there is any chance of saving our marriage. I just can't accept what she did."
"If I could offer you, hopefully, a way to save your marriage and also save my relationship with Brad, would you be interested?"
My heart started to beat irregularly. I had to sit down and think. Finally, I responded, "Yes, I'd love to save my marriage, but I just don't see any way to do it."
Again, there was that gentle giggle, and then a sigh. "I've loved Brad for a long time. We've known each other since we were kids. He came from a very dysfunctional family, as did I. His father was a womanizer, and as a result, his mother hated all men. She showed Brad absolutely no love. Nothing he could do ever pleased his mother. He has slept with married women many times before. I think this is Brad trying to get the love his mother never gave him. In any event, I came from an equally dysfunctional family. Only, in my family, my mother was a drunk, and my father abused me. Back then, Brad was all I had, and I loved him to my very core. But then he moved away when his mother divorced his father. I cried for weeks. We reconnected in Hollywood after we both had made it. I had heard the stories about Brad, and I was very leery about starting a relationship with him. But as soon as we saw each other, we fell in love again. And when we got engaged, he promised me that the married woman thing was behind him. When I confronted him about your wife, he claims nothing happened. I have no way to prove it one way or another. But right now, the thought of losing Brad is driving me crazy."
"Yeah, my wife also told me that nothing happened," I admitted. "And the thought of losing her is driving me crazy also."
"Do you believe her?"
"No, I don't."
"And neither do I. I know Brad, and it would be totally out of character for him to take a woman back to his house and do nothing. But I suppose stranger things have happened. Still, I'm going on the assumption that something did happen. So, I want him to understand how much hurt he has caused me, and I want your wife to understand the same thing. I don't know if that will be enough, but I'm hoping that if we're successful, we'll be able to move forward with our significant others."
"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.
Finally, from the far side of the room, I heard Rita's voice. "I bid one hundred thousand dollars."
There was stunned silence not only at the amount but also because of who had made the bid. Rita Sommers moved down to just below the stage as the crowd roared. She smiled up at me. She turned around to the crowd and said, "And I don't even care if he can do dishes."
The room again began to roar and cheer. I have to admit that I was blushing full on. Rita came up and put the traditional collar around my neck and gave me a soft kiss on the lips.
From the stage, by prearrangement, we went back to where Abbie was sitting. She was stunned. She didn't know what to do or say. So, I bent over and kissed her gently on the lips. I shrugged and said, "best-laid plans, Abbie. Here are the car keys. As I understand the rules, I'm Ms. Sommers for the next twelve hours. I'll see you back at the house."
Rita and I danced a few dances at the gala. During these dances, she kept nibbling on my ear. I could see Abbie watching me with a deer in the headlight look. When Rita took my hand and led me out of the ballroom, I could see Abbie's lips begin to tremble.
After the gala, Rita took me in a limo to another night club. We danced and talked there for an hour. After that, we went to a private screening of a new movie. The theater was filled with nothing but the Hollywood A list people. The film, I thought, was crap. So did Rita, but when we talked to the director, we both raved about it.
Then the limo took us to a very seedy part of town. After the vehicle was parked, I noticed that there were two cars behind us. Rita explained they were part of her security detail. She pointed out two rundown houses on opposite sides of the street.
"That one with the porch light still on used to be my home. The one across the street was where Brad lived. It wasn't quite as bad a neighborhood back then, but it was still pretty seedy."
It was pushing on toward three am when we finally arrived at Rita's condo. She explained that she had six condos, one in Hollywood, one in New York, one in Florida, two in Europe, and one in South America. This particular condo was three stories high, and you could have fit two regular-sized homes in it.
We went into the den, and Rita poured me a drink. As I sat on the couch, I began to chuckle. "I wish I had had a camera to take a picture of Abbie. I almost feel guilty about doing this, but not quite."
Rita sat very close beside me and put her hand on my knee. "John, tell me truthfully, has your wife convinced you that nothing happened?"
"Neither one of us will ever be able to prove it, but I believe that they had sex," I said sadly. "That's why it still hurts so much."
"I know John, and I'm ninety-nine point nine percent sure that Brad had sex with your wife," Rita was angry at the thought. "I think that turnaround is fair play." With that, Rita leaned in and kissed me gently.
I was stunned by the offer. I had, simply, assumed that we'd retire to Rita's home and sleep in separate rooms. Everyone would believe we had slept together, but we would know the truth. Now she was offering herself to me. It didn't take me long to decide. I suppose if I were a better man, I would have refused. But I was still hurting from what my wife had done. Plus, who in their right mind would turn down a chance to sleep with Rita Sommers.
We made love twice more before we fell asleep in each other's arms.
Then I looked at the clock and realized that it was almost eleven o'clock. I should have been home already. Rita laughed at my frantic expression.
"Remember, your wife wasn't concerned when you were waiting at home. And remember, nothing happened."
I laughed, and we showered together. After drying and getting dressed, Rita made eggs for me while waiting for the limo to come to pick me up. During the drive home, I was finally at peace. If Abbie was willing, I felt that we could now work to put everything behind us.
When I walked into our home, I found Abbie crying in the living room.
"I wasn't sure you were going to come home," she said miserably. "The news is buzzing about Rita Sommers paying one hundred thousand dollars for a night with you. At first, I thought this was just payback, but then I saw how she looked at you. If she spent that much, she must really care for you. But I don't blame you after what I did. Is there any future for us?"
"First of all, Abbie," I lied, "nothing happened."
She looked at me with almost anger in her eyes, but then it evaporated. "Really?"
"Rita is a new client of mine," I told my wife. "She felt it was only fair considering what Brad did to me. Besides, Rita's the one who gave me the tickets. She usually gives a hundred-thousand-dollar donation anonymously each year. This year, Rita did it publicly to send a message to her fiancé. So, you're right. It was to pay back Brad. Whether we have a future or not is entirely up to you. If you're willing to work on our marriage and go to counseling, I'm willing also."
Abbie rushed into my arms, and I kissed her deeply. Then I led her to our bedroom. I don't know where I found the stamina, but we made love twice. Then I fell back asleep until my two girls jumped on me about two in the afternoon. We had a quiet dinner with the girls, and after they were in bed, Abbie and I sat out on our patio holding hands. I knew then that we would be able to put the pieces of our marriage back together again.
Epilog:
Abbie and I found a good counselor, Wendy, and she helped us greatly resolving our issues. Surprisingly, Wendy was much harder on Abbie. I had assumed that since she was a woman, she would be more sympathetic toward my wife. But she pointed out, erroneously, that Abbie had planned her diversion from our marriage, while I hadn't.
Even though we both maintained that nothing had happened, I don't think Wendy believed either of us. Regardless, she said that the simple fact that we had decided to go off with someone over our spouses was a betrayal. Abbie blushed deeply through much of that. Of course, Wendy gave me a sort of pass because she mostly saw my night as Rita's revenge on her fiancé. That, of course, was true, but Wendy didn't know that I was up to my neck in planning and executing it. Still, the sessions were very helpful.
There is one side effect from all of this turmoil. Abbie no longer likes to go to the movies. She doesn't even like to watch them on television. Still, she'll go with the girls if they want to go to some children's movie.
As for Chad and Thelma, I had the charges dropped against Thelma. I told the authorities that she thought she was protecting her husband. But I let the charges stand against Chad. He got three months in the county detention center. Chad and Thelma were dropped from our group, and Abbie no longer talks to Thelma. They had a huge fight because Abbie blames Thelma for almost ruining her marriage. I won't begin to say I understand my wife's logic, such as it is on this subject.
Rita and Brad got married in what was called the wedding of the century. There were over a thousand guests there. If you weren't invited, you weren't anybody in Hollywood. In case you're wondering, Abbie and I didn't get an invitation. However, I did send Brad a wedding gift. I bought a pair of bull's horns and cut them in two. I sent them with a note that read, "You leave my wife alone, and I'll leave yours alone." I was still pissed at Brad when I sent the horns, but Rita told me that Brad thought the gift was hilarious. He's put it in his study with the note framed below it.
However, Hollywood being what Hollywood is, the marriage barely lasted a year. True to her word, when Rita discovered Brad was chasing married women again, she divorced him. It was amicable, and they are still friends. It's a shame because I know that Rita loved him deeply. I know from what she told me about their relationship over the years that they truly did have a connection that runs much deeper than most couples. But apparently, it wasn't enough.
Oh, yeah, Rita is still a client. When we opened her account, she deposited one million dollars. I fully expected her to close the account once her planned revenge was completed. But Rita kept it with me. When it had grown to a million and a half dollars, she deposited two million more. I haven't seen her in person since the day after the gala, but I do facetime with her at least four times a year to discuss her investments. Sometimes she calls with a question about her account, but sometimes, she just calls to talk. I enjoy those conversations the most.
Rita is a very savvy businesswoman. Surprisingly, she is also quite conservative, at least in her investments. I have no idea what her politics are. Even when I do the quarterly update on Rita's portfolio, we go over her account in about twenty minutes and then spend the next hour or two talking about our lives.
After Rita had divorced Brad, she told me that she should have kept me and dumped Brad. I laughed and reminded her about how we lived in two different worlds. Since then, Rita teases me that she's keeping tabs on me. And it is her supposed plan that if the stars ever line up where I am single, and she decides to give up acting, Rita says that she will go all out to get me. I know that she's just kidding, but it's a nice fantasy to keep in the back of my mind.
Abbie and I are closing in on our tenth wedding anniversary. We've had a few rough spots, but by and large, it had been a great marriage so far. As I look back, I am convinced that without Rita coming to my aid, I would have divorced Abbie. And today, I can't imagine what life would be without her. Oh yeah, one last thing. Abbie is pregnant, and we're going to have a little boy. I can hardly wait.
