The Trust

Five floors above Carleton and Julie, Jarmon hung up the telephone and read over the messages his secretary had given him. Karen had called looking for him but she could wait, and he knew she would. He checked his watch and sighed, almost ten. Nothing earth-shattering, he could spare another hour or so before getting back to work.

It had been another all-nighter, and he didn't want it to end just yet.

The bathroom door opened and the slim redhead padded naked into the room, one hand holding her damp hair up off her neck. You've got it made in the shade, Jarmon old boy; he smiled to himself, watching the woman.

Dear old Cynthia can't say a word until her famous trust kicks in, and after that I'm entitled to half. He slapped the sheets with both hands; Cyn won't kick me out. Her prodigy hungry grandfather would raise holy hell. He made a telescope of his hands and zeroed in on the woman crossing the room.

"Lose something?" Jarmon grinned, admiring her taut bottom, winking as she walked.

"I forgot my clean panties." She rummaged in her purse awkwardly with one hand, withdrawing the desired garment. "The shower's free now." She padded back, catching his line of sight and giving him the pleasure of a saucy shake.

"Watching you, I need a shower," he joked, "a cold one."

"Come on then," she called from the bathroom, "we'll do a little fire and ice."

Jarmon growled and bounced off the bed, losing his shorts as fast as possible on his way to the shower.

"Nicky, just where do you learn all these things?"

Jarmon poured them both a glass of wine and joined her on the bed. He was certainly going to have to find a place for Nicole between his wife and Karen. He laughed, picturing the thought.

"Imagination is funny," she sang, in a pleasantly clear voice.

"Being with you, mine just runs rampant." They clicked glasses and sipped the cool beverage. "Nicky, I've gotta ask... do you mind getting together like this, I mean always in the hotel room?"

"It's not my first choice, Jar, but then we couldn't do what we do many other places, right?" She smiled to herself and glanced at the location of her purse on the dresser, thinking how he would react if he knew the truth.

He chuckled and took another sip. Perfect! Please stay happy meeting like this. He turned on his little boy charm. "You've got that right. I just- well, I just wondered how you felt. You know, what with me having to be careful and all."

"I just enjoy it for what we have, baby, so don't wonder any more." She got up and fiddle with her purse again, pretending to get her lipstick, then crawled back onto the bed and winked, putting her lips to his ear and probing with a delicate tongue.

"Ahhh, god, Nicky... I don't deserve you..."

If only you knew, sweetheart!

●○●○●○●○●

Julie was just finishing in the bathroom when Reg awoke. He fumbled for his glasses and sat up in bed pushing his hair to one side. "You must have been really late getting in. I missed you."

"The meeting ran longer than we thought."

He shifted under the covers. "So what are your meetings about? Who's in this club of yours?"

"My friends, and we meet about all kinds of things. With husbands who are never around, it's necessary for our group to stick together." The tale rolled off her lips with practised ease.

"So now what? You're off again? You must have had hardly any sleep."

"I've got a hair appointment and then there's some shopping I want to do." She busied herself loading up her purse with cosmetics, tissues, cell phone and keys.

"Another appointment." It came out flat, not quite accusatory.

She turned from the dresser, slipping her purse over her shoulder, and jutted her chin boldly. "You have a problem?"

"Nope."

"Good, I'm going to grab some breakfast and then I'll be gone for most of the day."

"Fine. Enjoy your day, I'll see you tonight." He sighed as she gave a derisive humph and marched out of the room without another word. "Goodbye to you too, dear." He murmured after her.

There was little left between him and Julie and he felt it wouldn't be long before the remainder came to a head, but dodging Starkman was his first priority of the day - of every day recently. So far they seemed willing for his scheme regarding the trust money to mature, an assumption that he knew had better become a reality pretty darn soon.

Julie was just closing her cell phone when he entered the kitchen.

"You're still here, everything okay?"

"Yes." Terse. Curt.

"Just asking, dear." He took her dishes to the sink, frowning at the mess she'd left. Reg managed a quick bite of toast and instant coffee, then brushed his teeth, put on a clean shirt and jacket. He planned to enjoy the luxury of reading the business section of the paper undisturbed. Julie was in the front hall checking her makeup.

The telephone jangled on the wall beside him and he automatically reached for it as he scanned an article on hedge funds.

"Yeah, who is it?"

"It's Jorge, Reggie. How are you today?" Reg's eyes glazed and he sagged against the wall beside the phone. "Does silence mean things aren't good?"

"Things are okay, Jorge. What do you want?"

"Ha! That's a good one. Got another?"

"Jorge, I told you I'm working this angle and it will pay off but not before the end of the month. Bernie understands."

"Aah well that's the rub you see, Reggie. Bernie may understand but he's getting very tired of waiting. As a matter of fact, he asked me to ask after your lovely wife."

Reg's teeth clunked together and he pictured Julie at the mercy of the man on the other end of the line. "Why? She's fine. Look, Jorge. Julie has nothing to do with this. She knows nothing about any of it."

"Dear me, relax, Reggie. I was only trying to be sociable. I'm sure if I mentioned your debts she'd have some idea. C'mon, Reg, wives know these things, right?"

"Please, Jorge. Leave her out of this; I will have Bernie's money just like I said... when I said. I have the plan, remember?"

"You and Martin Luther King." Jorge chuckled.

"That was a dream, Jorge."

"What was?"

"Martin Luther King. That was a dream."

"Good. That's good, Reggie. Talk to you again. Soon." The voice was frigid.

"What was that about?" Julie stood defiantly in the kitchen doorway.

"Nothing for you to worry about."

"You were talking about me. What the hell's going on, Reg. If you get me into any of your messes¾"

"Relax, it has nothing to do with you." He folded up his paper and tossed it aside. "You better get going or you'll be late for your appointment."