Separate Vacations: Parallel Lives

I thought the old guy was going to have a heart attack. I couldn't help it, and laughed as I stood up.

"Are all these people lawyers and paralegals? They're all so attractive. Well, except for Marge. It looks like you got them from central casting. Did you contract a talent agency to fill spaces? This was supposed to be a simple meeting between me, my wife, her lawyer, and mine. It was not supposed to be a planned performance. Your shock and awe routine isn't cutting it. And why is Big Dick and The Bitch here? Man, that sure has a ring, doesn't it? Maybe they can take their act on the road. And The Bitch is not supposed to be within five hundred feet of me. You should know, since you're the ones that got her twisted ass out of jail. Maybe I need to call the cops. Instead, I think Lew and I will just leave. I never was a fan of the circus.

Here's the deal. Two weeks, just Matt, Tiffany, Lew, and myself. No one else. If I find her mother anywhere close, It'll be four more weeks. I'd ask you if you understood, but I really don't give a fuck. Coming, Lew?"

You could have heard a pin drop when we left. We were halfway to the elevator before two associates and a paralegal caught up with us, first demanding and them pleading for us to come back. We didn't answer and they gave up when we got to the elevator. We made it inside before Lew collapsed in laughter. I just grinned as he spoke. "I was just going to give them a gentle screwing, and you fly up and fuck them in the ass." I just smiled, the image of Tiffany crying softly still in my head.

The weeks went by, and the meeting was to take place at four that afternoon. It wasn't going to be at either office, we decided on neutral ground and rented a small conference room at a local convention center. Lew warned the firm several times that if anything funny occurred, all talks were over. He specifically warned Stephen Middleton and Marge to be nowhere near. Lew had even gone as far as hiring private security just for safety. They were the ones who spottted Marge and Big Dick. Lew was warned and had 911 pulled up. He spoke quickly into the phone. "My client and I are on our way to a conference at the Westin Convention Center, and there is a woman with a restraining order against her waiting to accost him. Please send an officer."

We walked a little more slowly, and once even stopped for a few minutes, talking. "What are you doing?"

"Stalling. I want the cops close when she surprises us. Ready?"

I nodded. We had just reached the front of the building when she came charging out. "You bastard! Leave Tiffany alone! You'll not see a cent of her money, I guarantee that! You hearing me, asshole?"

She was literally foaming at the mouth. I smiled. "I'm sorry, Marge. All the cocksucking you've done over the years must have damaged your vocal cords. I can't quite understand what you're saying. You're so wallowed out I bet one could ram his cock up your ass and another down your throat, and not hit a thing until they touched. Sucked any good lawyer dick lately? Or have they shuffled you to the side, in favor of younger pussy that they can actually feel?"

Her face went from red to white to purple. She was almost foaming at the mouth. "You asshole! Stephen is going to kick your ass and take Tiffany in front of you. How do you like that?" She swung at me, and I could have easily avoided or blocked it, but I did nothing. Everyone on the street could hear the sound of her palm against my face.

"Music to my ears," I grinned, as the cops pulled her down, kicking and screaming. She was stuffed into a squad car and bound for jail in three minutes, especially after Lew showed them a copy of the restraining order. I looked around for Middleton, but he had crawled under a rock somewhere. Lew sent a text to Matt Henry, a full video, with a message.

"You were warned. I'm afraid the conference is canceled, you and your client are going to be busy anyway, trying to get her mother out of jail. We'll call, but it won't be soon."

..................

Tiffany sat in shock as Matt raged. "Why did you let her do it? Your mother was never very stable in my opinion, and she's transferred all the hate she had for her ex onto Bruce. She's going to keep it up until she gets into serious trouble, trouble the best law firm in the world can't get her out of. Seriously, Tiffany, your mother needs professional help. We're obviously not going to meet with Lew and Bruce, so let's go see what we can do for your mother. Hold on just a second while I make a phone call, get yourself together, and I'll be back as soon as I'm done."

He answered on the second ring. "Stephen Middleton." He held the phone away from his ear, the voice was so loud. "You dumbass! What were you thinking? You had specific instructions to stay away, and you brought her mother, knowing about the restraining order. They have you on tape, talking to her just minutes before the altercation, and footage of you slinking off when the cops turned up. The partners are not going to be happy with you, not at all."

"You could not tell them."

Matt laughed. "I don't think so. I worked too hard to reach where I am to screw it up because some pussyhound can't keep from sniffing around a married woman. You better pucker up, big boy. I see a lot of asskissing in your future."

Matt walked back into the room to see Tiffany with her head ont he table, crying. He gently helped her up and she fell into his arms, sobbing. "Why, Matt? How did everything get so far out of control? I just wanted him to grow a set of balls, teach him to quit fooling around and grow up."

Matt sighed. "Well, you got part of your wish. I don't think he grew a set, honey. I think he whipped King Kong's ass and took his. You threatened his manhood, honey, the worst thing you can do to a man. Of course he's going to lash out, if he has any pride at all. You need to face reality, Tiffany. You're probably not going to get him back. Now, what do you want to do about your mother?"

Tiffany sighed. "Call Mort, and let him handle it. She may have just killed any chance I had at saving my marriage, and I really don't want to see her right now."

"Ah...Tiffany, I know it's not my place, but you know I've always cared for you. You're like a niece to me, so I need to say this. Your mother needs help, serious help. She's starting to get out of control, and once again, if she keeps pushing Bruce, she'll end up in jail, and not just overnight. Think about it."

................

Stephen Middleton was smiling as he entered the office. Hopefully, today's events had created such a rift in Tiffany's attempt to reconcile with her husband that the divorce was inevitable. He wanted Tiffany, wanted her badly. She was beautiful, had a great ass, and he knew she would burn the sheets up if he ever got her in the sack. Her tits were a bit small, but he was sure that if he had enough time he could talk her into a boob job. Of course, she did have the two brats, but he was already sucking up to them. Best of all, even if her husband got half her money, she was worth millions, and the future couldn't look any brighter. Her company was making money hand over fist, and she was getting a large chunk of it.

The receptionist stopped smiling whens he saw him, then broke into a big grin. "Mr. Bailey would like to see you, now. I'll call and tell him you're on the way up."

She grinned as he walked away. He did have a charming manner and an exceptionally large cock, and she had enjoyed the sex tremendously. But after he'd fucked her a couple of times he lost interest and started pursuing someone else. On reflection, she considered herself lucky. The poor woman he was after now was in for heartbreak, if she left her husband for him. It almost made her want to warn her, but she was also a bit of a self absorbed bitch. And that mother, she was certifiable. Maybe they all deserved each other.

Stephen pasted on his confident smile as he stroke into the inner sanctum. Wilson Wilkes was there, and neither were smiling. "Mr. Baliey, Mr. Wilkes, how can I be of service to you and the firm this fine day?"

Wilkes spoke first. "You can stop chasing married women, especially those not directly in the firm. The husband may not have diddly for resources, but he's got some powerful new friends. Friends that could make life for everyone in the firm very difficult."

Mort spoke up. "Listen to him, Stephen. It's pretty much a done decision about her divorce, so hang back, and don't add fuel to the fire. You well know our firm has a history of 'emtangling allainces', so we've basically kept a blind eye to your activities. However, now that someone else is looking, you have to be on your best behavior. Are we clear here?"

"I understand, sir. You can count on me."

"Arrogant assholes! Mind your own fucking business! When I get hold of some money, I'll start my own firm, and make our speciality kicking your fossilized asses." Stephen continued to rant and fume to himself all the way to his office. He calmed when he opened his computer, and looked at the screensaver. Tiffany, in all her glory, in a very small bikini. He remembered the wardrobe malfuction while she was learning to surf, and the feel of her hard nipple as he cupped her breast. She seemed shocked, but it still took her a few seconds to remove his hand and retie her top. He almost had her then, until her oldest cried out from the beach. She pushed away, gently, and swam to shore. Then, at the club, he danced away from the group, out onto a small balcony. They had both been drinking hard, and she didn't fight him when he kissed her, or after a few minutes when he put her hand on his hard cock. She gasped a little at the size, moving her hand slowly up and down the length. He was about to push her to her knees when another couple drunkenly stumbled out, giggled at her with her dress popped open, her breasts hanging free, and her hand on his monster. "Lucky girl," said the woman, before backing out.

She had jumped away and covered herself, and was subdued the rest of the evening. The next day she waved her rings under his nose. "I want you, Stephen, God knows I do. But as long as I wear these rings it will never happen. I've already lead you on, and I apologize. Please respect me on this."

He was furious, but put on a bland smile, sucked up to her kids, and gently derided her husband every chance he got. He almost broke out in his happy dance when she collapsed into his arms at the airport. It was just a matter of time.

............

A month later, Tiffany, Matt , Lew and I sat in a small conference room with Judge Katherine Holden. A respected jurist, she was asked to mediate the meeting, in an attempt to keep the parties calm and seek the best solution.

Lew wasn't pleased with the choice. "This has Mort Bailey's fingerprints all over it. He may have gotten her here, but I've been in front of her a couple of dozen times. She's sharp as a tack, as well as being fair. The down side is she's a hopeless romantic, so she's inclined to root for happy endings. We need to be on our toes."

The Judge heard the whole story, and the history behind what brought it about. Personally she was shocked. The young woman was attractive, extremely smart, goal oriented, and used to succeeding. The husband was more calm, not seemingly ambitious at all, but she caught the glimmer in his eye and knew he would bear watching. Katherine was a little shocked to see the way the marriage operated, but until a year or so back it seemed fine. The vacation seemed to finally trigger a change. After hearing both sides, she was sure it could no longer exist in it's current state.

"This is the most unusual set of circumstances I've ever encountered. Mrs. Davis, honestly, I don't understand your logic. Mr. Davis, I'm not sure what to make of your passive acceptance of the situation for as long as you have."

She stopped to push up her reading glasses. She was really attractive for her age, and was supposed to be in an on again, off again relationship with another senior Judge. I wished them well.

"Mr. Davis, I hear you are adamantly against counseling. I even understand your logic. But I've never seem such a mismatched couple who are obviously still in love. Your resolve almost breaks every time you look at her, and Mrs. Davis, it's plain to all you want your husband back. Now, it's my job to find resolution in situations like this, so Mr. Davis, I'd like ask this as a favor. Go and talk to someone, individually and as a couple. Air it out, and if you see no other way, when you go before me in court I'll approve the divorce. I'm not talking long term, maybe one individual session each, and three joint. Do both individual sessions one week, and the three joint sessions once weekly until you're done. Four weeks, Mr. Davis, not a lot in the grand scheme of things. It will be over before you know it and I'd look more favorably on granting the divorce, knowing you'd made one last effort. I'll even say please."

I was about to blow up, while Tiffany looked hopeful. Lew and Matt both leaned forward. Matt was quick to speak. "Do it, Bruce. Believe me, it will help."

Lew, who was still being forced to attend what was considered a marathon of counseling sessions, wasn't as keen. "Or, you could bog down into a never ending river of bullshit. However, IF they sign a binding agreement that once the sessions are done they're done and can only proceed if Bruce agrees, I think you should go along with it."

I think everyone was shocked when I agreed. Tiffany had a huge smile on her face. I could tell she was firmly convinced she had me back. I hoped she was ready for what was really going to happen.

..................

The Judge took the choice of counselors out of our hands, saying if she picked neither could claim bias. Martha Jones was maybe ten years older than us, mid-forties I'd say, and had been practicing for almost twenty years, with a stellar reputation. Her only agenda, she had assured us, was finding resolution, no matter what she personally thought should happen.

I went first, and I thinks she thought I was lying when I told her about our life. I told the whole story of our relationship from the start. She made a few general observations at the end. "You must have really loved her a lot to live like you have. Tell me, in your opinion, being as honest as possible, do you think you're a good writer? It seems a lot of your problems stem from your passion, and you're determination to continue."

I didn't like the answer I gave her, but I needed to be honest. "To look at my track record, the facts would disagree, but I am in fact a good writer. I just happen to be a good writer that hasn't yet written a good book. It's that conviction thay keeps me trying. Tiffany knew about my dreams, and even encouraged me the first few years, but as she rose through the ranks and the money started getting better, she openly resented it. She told me more than once to stop chasing something I would never catch and do somethign positive with my life. I just can't give up the dream, and maybe I never will."

"Honest enough. Thank you for your time, Mr. Davis. Remember, your first couples appointment is on Thursday of next week. Please see my receptionist on your way out."

"Thank you, Dr. Jones."

It was one of the things I admired about her. She had early in her career decided to always keep things professional, so she always addressed her clients as Mr. and Mrs., and insisted they address her as Dr. Jones. "I'm not here to be your friend, I'm here to be your guide. I want you to keep it in the back of your mind that this is a professional relationship, and should be treated with the gravity it deserves."

I couldn't agree more.

...............

Tiffany looked around the office nervously. It had taken four months, but she felt like she finally had a chance to reclaim her husband. She knew she had to proceed slowly, with caution. This was too important to her to screw up, besides, she had actually accomplished what she set out to do when she left Bruce behind for a month. He definitely had grown a set of balls and she wondered how hard he would be to handle in the future. Sure she could bring him around she smiled, happy she would be getting her life back.

It took only twenty minutes for Dr. Jones to crack her confidence. Before she spoke, Dr. Jones gave her a rundown of her session with Bruce, pausing when she was done and looking at Tiffany closely. "Was he lying?"

It all sounded so unfair the way she described it. "Bruce is a lot of things, Dr. Jones, but a liar isn't one of them. Yes, our realtionship is pretty much as he described it."

"You make roughly eight to ten times what your husband does, yet he pays almost all of the bills. Does this sound balanced to you?"

Tiffany sighed. "You don't understand. The man is supposed to support his family, and he has no claim on my money. It was what we agreed on."

"It sounds to me like it was a lot more agreeable to you than it was to him. What were your financial responsibilites?"

"I kept the family clothed, and paid for all extras."

"Like vacations?"

She sighed. "Yes, Dr. Jones, like vacations. I'm sure Bruce told you about my leaving him behind for a month for a vacation in the islands. Yes, it was unfair, and yes, it was deliberate, and yes, I said many hurtful things to him before I left. But I did it for a reason. I wanted to shock him out of his childish dream of being a writer, and make him enter the real world. He's not an idiot, Dr., he could excel at anything if he applied himself."

"So your idea of motivation was to rub his lack of financial resources in his face, making him stay at home while you frolicked on vacation, leaving him with the idea you may or may not take a lover while you were gone? Really, Mrs. Davis, does this sound like reasonable behavior for a married woman?"

"It sounds like the behavior of a desperate women, one who wanted her husband to make her proud of him again. After I realized my mistake, I did send him a ticket so he could join us. His stubborn pride wouldn't let him come."

"So then, you admit you lost your respect for him? You and the rest of your family flew first class, yet you send him a ticket for coach, with a nasty note for him to quit whining. You really expected him to come? He says you asked several times what it would take to heal the rift before it got to this point. When he told you to prove your love and come home, you refused every time. Why would you do that if you knew your relationship was in serious trouble? By your own admission you are quite wealthy, it would have been nothing for you to fly home, settle your differences, and go on a nice family vacation later. Why didn't you do what he asked?"

For the first time during the sessions she lost her temper. "Because he doesn't own me! I'm my own woman, and I can do as I see fit. He NEEDED this lesson, and I had suffered long enough to give it to him. I was ashamed when he accompanied me to company functions. I was too mortified to introduce him as a video store manager, so I said he was a novelist, working on a book. When pressed for what he'd written, I told them he hadn't been published, yet. After three years that got old. I wanted him to be proud of being my husband, and show his love by becoming a man of the real world, instead of living in his head."

"So you think he was no longer a fit partner for someone of your stature?"

"Yes. NO! I don't know exactly. I still love him and this separation has been horrible. I've never been so lonely in my life. And believe me, Dr., there have been quite a few successful, reasonably handsome men who have offered to console me. I've even been tempted once or twice. But I have remained faithful. Why can't we go back to the way things were?"