by BWWM Club
“Monica,” she said in a calm voice, willing herself to contain her anger. “I am very good at what I do and I promise you that I will get this sorted out. Can you promise me you won’t do anything rash?”
The girl stared at her as if deciding whether or not to trust her and Debra waited without saying a word, knowing that it had to be a decision the girl made without any help from her.
“Okay then,” she said grudgingly, standing up. “But this time I am dealing with you not that son of a bitch that got me into this,” she ended bitterly.
“I won’t let you down.” She promised the girl with a forced smile, handing her a card with all her numbers. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”
The girl took the card and stared down at it, her expression one of utter sadness. “You are nice, not like some of those stuck up rich bitches that look down their noses at you. Thanks.”
“You are welcome.” She smiled at the girl; a genuine smile that radiated sympathy and empathy and Monica went swiftly from the office, her cheap perfume lingering inside the office.
Debra wasted no time. She had wanted Michael with her when she confronted him but this could not wait. She had a feeling that Monica Darby was a ticking time bomb and it was not long before she made good on her threat to go to the press with her story.
She hurried from her office, passing Jules on the way without stopping as she usually did but heading straight for the suite of offices that Bernard Malcolm the third resided. She had always admired the silver haired, attractive, well maintained man with the erect bearing and had been to dinner at his house two times with Michael. His wife Mabel was a silver haired debutante who presided over the graceful Tudor manor like a queen. She gave a discreet knock on the door and was invited to come in at once.
“My dear Debra, to what do I owe this honor?” he beamed at her as he jumped up from his massive oak desk. He was dressed in an expensive tweed jacket with patches on the elbows and looked like everybody’s favorite grandfather. She held up her cheek for the obligatory kiss even though she was churning inside.
She waited until he had gone back around to sit behind his desk and she had taken the seat he indicated before she spoke, getting right to the point.
“We have a problem Bernard,” she said softly. “Monica Darby came to see me just now.”
She saw the startled expression on his face and avoiding her eyes he took up a document he had on his desk. “Don’t worry about it my dear; I will take care of it.”
“It’s too late for that now, I am afraid,” her voice sounded steely. “She is threatening to go to the press with her story.”
The man stared at her in horror and Debra saw his hands trembled as he put down the document he had pretended interest in not so long ago.
“That miserable bitch,” he said in quiet rage and Debra stiffened at his tone and the use of the word he used. She was seeing a different side of him that she did not like and she felt herself bristling.
“I am calling a meeting with Michael for later today and I would like you to be a part of it.” She told him coolly, not asking him but letting him know that it was not a request. “I will let you know what time.” She added as she stood up ready to leave.
“You have no right to judge me,” he told her angrily. “Every one of us makes mistakes but we all have to realize that there are consequences we must face.” She stood there looking down at him contemptuously. “Monica Darby might not have a cent to her name but she is still a person and she deserves a fair treatment.” Without another word she left his office, the opulence of the room fading against the tawdriness of the man who occupied it.
Chapter 10
Michael was furious to say the least. He listened in silence as Debra gave him the details and did not interrupt her for one second; the only indication of what he was feeling was the furrow of his brow. He had arrived at the office at a quarter past five and apologized for not calling her to let her know that he was running late but Debra had waved his apology aside and told him what was happening.
“That old fool!” he said, his teeth clenched. “That goddamned fool!” Debra had closed the door to his office so that they would not be interrupted. “What can we do?” he asked her.
“We can hear what he has to say before we decide how to go ahead with what needs to be done.” Debra told him calmly.
He buzzed Amy. “Ask Bernard to join us in the office Amy.” He said briskly, no indication of what he was feeling in his tone. “What was he thinking?” he muttered to no one in particular. “I am friends with his wife and I thought they were happy together. They raised a family together and now this?” he threw up his hands in distress.
Before Debra could say anything there was a knock on the door and told him to come in.
“Michael before you say anything I must say how sorry I am that you got involved in this,” he began, a smile fixed on his face as he came into the office, studiously ignoring Debra. “As I told your lovely wife I can handle this on my own so there was no need for her to say anything.”
“Shut your mouth!” Michael said his voice soft and menacing. The man looked at him in astonishment before taking a seat. “Is she pregnant?”
“You know how these women are Michael-“ he began with a nervous laugh but Michael interrupted him.
“No I don’t know Bernard,” Michael said with a bite in his tone. “So why don’t you tell me?” he added softly.
“You know how it is man,” he looked around at Debra who had chosen to take a seat a little bit away from both men. “My wife and I had been going through some difficulties in the bedroom area and I started seeing this girl. I never intended for it to be more than a onetime thing but I sort of like her a bit.”
“A girl young enough to be your granddaughter and a prostitute at that,” Michael said in disgust. “How much did you pay her Bernard?”
“What?” the man looked at him in shock and Debra was hard put not to burst out laughing at the comical expression on his face. “That’s none of your damn business!”
“But that’s where you are wrong Bernard,” Michael said softly almost pleasantly as he leaned forward on his desk. Debra felt almost sorry for the man. “This is my company and whatever affects it, affects me. So how much did you pay her?”
He was silent and Debra could hear his brain humming; wondering what to tell Michael. “She charges two hundred dollars every time I see her.” He muttered his eyes on his clasped hands.
“How many times have you been with her?” Michael’s expression was flint like.
This time he did not protest but with an almost resigned tone he responded. “I have been seeing her for the past three months on Fridays and Saturdays.” There was a slump to his shoulders and it looked as if he had finally come to realize what he had done and what he stood to lose.
“Get out,” Michael told him still in the same deceptively soft voice. Bernard Malcolm sat there staring at the man whom he had at one time considered a son and saw the look of contempt on his face. He felt the shame wash over him in full flood. He was actually more ashamed of what Michael thought of him than what his wife and their three daughters were going to think of him. Now he wished with all of his heart that he had not gone to that bar that night some three months ago. With a deep sigh he stood up shakily suddenly feeling all of his seventy years. Maybe it was time he retired, he thought wearily.
“I am sorry Michael,” he said in regret before walking slowly out and closing the door behind him.
“So what do we do?” Michael asked Debra leaning back against the chair, his expression softening as he looked at her. She was wearing a red wool dress that molded her incredible figure and gold accessories and she looked stunning and cool at the same time.
“We fix this,” she stood up and came over to his desk. “We find out what she wants and make it happen.” She sat in one of the deep cushioned chairs in front of his desk and crossed elegant legs. “I don’t think she really wants
to go to the press Michael, I think she is just a scared girl who wants what’s best for the child she is carrying. Unfortunately, Bernard is going to have to tell his family and that is something that is not going to be easy.”
“Damn fool!” Michael said impatiently. He leaned forward suddenly, his expression intense. “That is not going to happen to us Debra,” he said earnestly. “I will never hurt you that way.”
“Oh I know that darling,” she stood up in one graceful movement and came around to sit on his desk. “You value your genitals too much to let that happen because if it does, you won’t have one to stick into another woman.”
Michael stared at her, his expression one of extreme surprise and then he burst out laughing, effectively easing the tension that had settled around his eyes the minute she had told him the news about Bernard. She was quite a woman.
*****
She and Michael met with Monica as well as Bernard who came to the meeting reluctantly. He had not wanted to be a part of it but Michael had told him that he was not asking. The girl looked different from when she had first seen her a week ago. Her face was scrubbed free of all makeup and she was wearing a neat if somewhat shabby pants suit and was without the garishly ugly wig she had been wearing and as Debra had guessed she was very pretty with soft dark hair and large blue eyes. She was seated a little bit away from Bernard who was avoiding looking at her. They were in the vast conference room and it was almost seven when the rest of the staff had already left for home.
“How are you Ms. Darby?” Michael asked her solicitously, his green eyes looking at her in sympathy.
“I am not bad sir,” the girl said shyly, all of her false bravado from the other day all but gone.
“Good,” Michael said briskly with a little smile to put her at ease. “What are your plans?”
“I want to go back to school,” she ventured tentatively, looking over at Debra as if to gain some confidence. “I am not in a position to take care of a baby so I wanted to put it up for adoption.”
“Not a damn chance!” Bernard burst out, standing in agitation.
“Sit Bernard or exit the room,” Michael told him icily. The man sat down immediately sending a murderous glance towards Monica.
“I am not a murderer Mr. Tanner,” she said heatedly. “I am not going to murder an innocent child.”
“Of course not,” Michael sent Bernard a fulminating stare. “Bernard is going to maintain you for the duration of your pregnancy and he is going to donate the tuition fee to whatever school you chose to go to.”
There was a strangled sound from where Bernard was sitting drowned out by the grateful shriek from the girl.
*****
Bernard Malcolm downed the liquid in one gulp. He was standing beside the mantle and leaning against it. He had come home after the disastrous meeting with Michael; Debra and that wretched girl who was threatening to ruin the life he had made for him and his family. Why the hell hadn’t she used protection? Weren’t women of the night required to do so? He had said that to her when she had told him that she was pregnant and she had said some crap about being allergic to most of them so she had asked the men to use protection but in the heat of the moment she had forgotten to tell him. Damn convenient. He had thought bitterly, no doubt she had seen a patsy loaded with money and a meal ticket and she had jumped at the opportunity it presented. His mind drifted back to that first night. She had been wearing that hideous wig and normally he would not have looked at her twice but he had been so mired down in self pity and starving for some affection that he had responded immediately as soon as she put the moves on him.
He had taken her to a motel nearby and when she had grab hold of him there, what he had thought was dead or sleeping had come alive as if twenty years younger. It had been so long since he had seen his wife’s pubic area that he had forgotten what it looked like. Monica had taken him inside her mouth and brought him to heights he'd not believed possible. At that point he would have given her anything she wanted. He had come as soon as he entered her and he remembered with clarifying humiliation that he had cried and told her he loved her. He could not get enough of her at that point and she had introduced him to moves he had never experienced before; now she had to come and ruin it.
He was working up the liquid courage to tell his wife but so far it was not working. He put aside the glass he had been drinking from as soon as he heard her footsteps on the stairwell signaling her approach. It was time to face the music, he thought in resignation as he went to meet her.
*****
Verona Malcolm was a well preserved woman of impeccable beauty and grace as well as she should be, never having worked a day in her life. She came from a long line of money and in all her sixty five years she never knew what it was like to be in need. She had married Bernard because of his good looks and his charms and the fact that he had ambition and he did not require much from her. They had raised a family together and now her grandchildren were the center of her life, she certainly did not have time to be opening her legs for him to stick himself inside her at this age, she had done her duty, thank the Lord and that was that.
Now the damn fool had come to tell her that he had impregnated a young prostitute, which was something so ludicrous if it was not so galling and hard to swallow. Men and their privates, she thought in disgust, they pointed it at anything.
“Are you sure the fetus is yours?” Verona asked him calmly, pouring herself a glass of chardonnay. They were in the vast dining room seated around the twenty seat mahogany dining table with him at one end and she at the other. They practically had to shout to hear each other.
“I don’t know,” he said warily, eyeing her. She looked elegant and unapproachable in a dark green wool skirt suit that suited her very white skin and brought out the hazel flecks in her light green eyes. Her ash blonde hair had gone completely white and was secured on top of her head in a neat chignon. Emeralds glinted at her lobes and at her wrist. Even though they were dining at home she still believed in dressing up. “I will be sure to have her do a DNA to find out.” He added as if trying to placate her.
“The fact that you stuck your penis inside her gives her reason to claim you as the father,” Verona told him contemptuously. “Just deal with it and deal with it quietly, I won’t have the children and especially the grandchildren hearing a whisper about it. Do what you have to do to make it go away.”
“Thank you Verona,” he told her gratefully, thankful that she had handled it so well but then again his wife was not into making scenes, she was too well contained to do so.
“I have not done it for you Bernard,” she told him dismissively, cutting into her well cooked beef stroganoff and taking a delicate bite. “And next time you feel the urge to get laid find someone more discreet.”
Bernard stared at her in resigned anger; no wonder he had to go elsewhere, the woman was cold enough to give him frost bite.
*****
“Do you think that she is really pregnant?” Debra asked her husband. They were at home curled up on the leather sofa, watching a black and white movie showing on the big screen with the fire blazing in the hearth. The snow was coming down in droves outside and they had decided to stay home instead of going out to dinner like he had suggested.
“Who the hell knows?” he said in irritation. He had kept his temper in check in deference to the girl and Debra but in truth he had wanted to knock some sense into the man old enough to be his father. “I guess we will find out eventually.”
“I wonder how he is going to break the news to his wife.” Debra murmured, feeling sorry for the woman even though from what she had seen of Bernard Malcolm’s wife, she had a feeling that she would take it just fine, the woman looked as if she was carved from ice. “I kind of feel sorry for Bernard,” she added.
“How is that?” Michael asked her puzzled, a frown on his brow.
“His wife looks as if she made the rules and there will be hell to pay if they are broken.”
&
nbsp; Michael looked down at her startled. She was in one of his T-shirts and her nipples were evident through the thinness of the fabric. Her face devoid of makeup made her look like she was a very beautiful teenager. “You have met her twice and you have formed that impression?” he asked her in amusement.
“I am a very good judge of character,” she told him archly, lifting her head to look up at him. He looked relaxed and quite different from the man who seemed like he had wanted to wring Bernard Malcolm’s neck earlier today.
“Would you give me the same consideration if I did something like that?” he teased her, brushing a tendril of hair from her forehead.
“Not a chance!” She told him immediately. “We have an extremely healthy relationship and we cannot seem to keep our hands off each other so if you did something like that I would have no other choice but to hurt you really bad.”
“Point taken,” he told her softly, kissing her lightly on the nose.
They were silent for a spell then Michael spoke up, “I remembered being about five or six one Christmas Eve. We had been waiting up for my father to come home because he had promised me a racing truck that had been popular at the time. I was so excited that I kept looking outside the window. Mother was sitting in her favorite chair, mending some old sock of his. He finally came home at a quarter past twelve, totally wasted because he had just lost his job.” Michael smiled grimly, the memory still fresh in his mind. “Instead of the toy truck I was expecting, I got a thrashing because I was up way past my bed time and my mother just sat there as if frozen while he beat me within an inch of my life. There began a series of disastrous Christmases I had to look forward to. It was then I decided that Christmas was for rich people only.”