Author's note:
Let me express my appreciation for the encouraging feedback on the first two chapters, and again give my thanks to the wonderful author karaline for her editing and advice. This is a story about a relationship between consenting (and fictional) adults. Comments, votes and emails are always welcome. Thanks again to my readers!
*****
Finnegan's was a mid-range restaurant that billed itself as a 'resto-bar' in order to justify the outrageous prices it charged for lunch. On the plus side it was brightly-lit and spacious, and the lack of ambient music made it quieter than most eating places and perfect for meetings. The fact that the house white wine was amazing made the high prices easier to digest.
Her older sister Betty was waiting for her when Jane arrived and the two of them embraced before sitting and ordering. Jane was happy to see her sister looking well but disappointed in the beige slacks and old-lady cardigan Betty had chosen to wear; they made her thirty-three year old sister look much older. And not in a good way. Why couldn't a brainy psychologist learn to dress herself properly for lunch?
They exchanged light chatter while waiting for their meal. Betty dished on James, the boring-yet-suitable man she was seeing and Jane was content to pepper her sister with indiscreet questions about him until the salads arrived. Betty asked Jane how business was going, and this gave Jane the opening she was looking for to get some advice on the situation with Mike. She knew exactly what she wanted to say.
"I've got this client that I used to do business with all the time. A few years back I screwed up an order and he got furious and canceled the contract. The problem is, now I need a reference from him in the worst way but I can't get any traction with him. He doesn't trust me," Jane said, then paused for a sip of wine.
She couldn't mention Mike's name, of course. Betty passionately hated him and Jane didn't have the time or energy to fight that battle over lunch. Couching the situation in business terms seemed an easier way to get the advice she needed.
"Oh come on," her sister said. "There's no way you're letting a little thing like that stop you. You're the unsinkable Jane Willow."
"There's more...another vendor is in the picture now," Jane said.
"I see. A competitor?"
"Not a competitor, exactly. She sells a completely different product. But my client has got so much time and attention tied up in this new vendor that there's practically none left for me."
"When will his business with the other vendor be concluded?"
"Not for ages. It's a long-term contract."
"And you can't wait it out?"
"I've got four weeks, tops. Probably less."
"You must have other clients you can get references from," Betty said.
"Plenty. But I need a reference from this specific client. It carries a lot of weight. If I can't get it, my career is over."
"So you're asking..."
"I'm asking for some tips on how I can re-establish trust with this client. You're a psychologist, there must be techniques I can use, right?
Betty chewed her salad and took a long sip of lemon-water. She regarded Jane with an analytical expression.
"So, let's unpack this," her sister said. "To begin with, your story is obviously a cover, representing an issue you're having in your personal life."
"What makes you think that?"
"Because you never have - and never would - seek my advice for a business issue."
Jane had to concede the point. Betty was a brilliant psychologist but a total dud when it came to the business world.
"Your so-called client is a man you were in a relationship with. The other vendor is a woman, since you used the pronoun 'she'." Betty tapped her own chin lightly with her index finger as she continued to think. "But not a romantic rival, since you said she wasn't a competitor. So that means she's...what...an ex-wife? Mother? Sister? Daughter? I'm guessing...daughter, since a daughter would be the long-term relationship most likely to tie up almost all his time and attention. So...you're trying to hook up with an old flame, but he's got a daughter now and that's crossing you up."
Jane shook her head in amazement. Small wonder her sister was pulling down two-hundred bucks an hour in private practice. A truly brilliant woman!
"But he doesn't trust you. There's bad blood there. You didn't just break up; you said he was 'furious', which implies..." Betty trailed off, then her eyes grew wide and she covered her mouth in disbelief.
Fuck. She knew.
"Before you say anything," Jane said, "he is completely different now. Totally domesticated and basically harmless."
But Betty wasn't listening. She had her phone out and was tapping and swiping, then handed it to Jane.
"Look familiar?" Betty said.
Jane looked at the small screen and saw her own face, swollen, misshapen and bloody. The whole left side was purple and red and her left eye was partially swollen shut.
"You...kept this?" Jane asked, her voice a horrified whisper.
"Four broken teeth. Deep cuts to your cheek and forehead requiring eight stitches. A broken jaw. A grade three concussion - you were out cold for at least ten minutes. You spent two days in the hospital, missed three weeks of work and complained of post-concussion light sensitivity and frequent headaches for more than eight months," Betty said, counting off each injury on her fingers.
"Why would you keep this picture?" Jane's horror slowly morphed into outrage.
"Victims of domestic assault frequently return to their abusers. I kept the picture in case you ever had thoughts of going back, and needed a visceral reminder of what he did to you."
"He's not an 'abuser'! He just lost his temper one time and hit me."
"Oh, you're right, that's totally a different thing," Betty said, rolling her eyes.
"And besides..."
"It wasn't all his fault, you kind of deserved it, you shouldn't have made him angry. That's what you're going to say now, right?" Betty said.
Jane fumed silently. Her sister was annoyingly smart.
"Ah, yes. The classics never go out of style," Betty said.
"He's different now. He's got a kid."
"And God knows what he's doing to her," Betty said in a voice filled with contempt.
"He's an unbelievable dad. He's not 'doing' anything to her!"
"Not when you're there, obviously. But when you're not he probably beats her, or worse. It would fit the pattern."
"Oh, is that your professional assessment?" Jane said.
"I didn't realize I was on the clock," Betty countered. "I don't work cheap, you know."
Jane gritted her teeth and tried to move the conversation forward. Irksome or not, Betty would have some great ideas for how to smooth things over with Mike.
"Anyway..."
"Why four weeks?" the older sister interrupted.
"What?"
