This follows directly from the first chapter, posted under 'incest/taboo.' If you haven't read it, this is an okay story, but won't make a lot of sense. Max and Lee put their plan in action; Pete makes an intriguing discovery. Lee learns about his secretary's appetites; he and Max grow closer.
Max lay there, feeling her new husband, Don, settling down on the narrow space she had left for him in the double bed. She finally heard his breathing slow down and become shallow, indicating he was asleep. Quietly, she slipped out of bed, grabbed a robe and went down to talk to her father and brother.
They made plans for an improvisational dialogue in the morning and reviewed people who could be used and or trusted to help at work. After Ian and Edie went to bed, Lee and Max continued to talk.
"Lee, you'll have to come off as a bastard, extorting some of the women at work for sex, or at least appearing to."
"Why?"
"Because it can't be just me without raising Don's suspicions." She giggled. "Especially since that's about all he can raise.
"I'm sure we can get my secretary and her daughter to go along, and pretend, if not actually participate, but it would be better if you actually screwed them. And Ashley, the girl who will be you temporary secretary when you start.
"She is our floating steno. With her, you'll have a legitimate issue to use. She's an inveterate eavesdropper. She's been caught a few times listening in on open intercoms. She should have been let go, but she's the grand-daughter of one of Dad's first customers.
"She really gets off on humiliation, hers and other's. I've seen her almost climax from being reprimanded in front of another clerk; another time, when she was eavesdropping, I saw her get up and hurry to the ladies room; the back of her skirt had a big wet spot. Later, I asked the woman she was working for what had been going on. She said she'd had to cut the balls off one of the foremen because he was making racist statements in the break room when my black secretary and her daughter were there."
"You're saying I should screw these women? Won't that bother you? Knowing Don can have sex with you sure as hell bugs me. More than I thought it would when we talked about it."
Max dropped her head onto his shoulder. "Will I like it? Definitely not. Can I accept and live with it? I think so. It won't be forever, and it's not like you're going to fall in love with them. It's all just a gigantic charade, put on for Don's benefit. And a little bit to help make it up to you about Don having access to my cooch." She reached up and kissed his jaw. "I'd better get back to bed, in case he wakes up. Sleep well, lover."
The sun, coming in around the window shades, woke her. She was aware of the pressure in her bladder, and the discomfort of excessive gas in her gut. The movement of swinging her legs over the side of the bed was enough to force the release of some of the gas, resulting in a loud retort, resembling a loud raspberry. It was enough to awaken her bed partner.
"Max?"
"Good morning, Don. Excuse me; I need to get to the bathroom." As she hurried across the room to the doorway, she was followed by a string of retorts, accompanied by a foul, fetid odor, one with which Don was intimately familiar.
She grabbed a robe and hurried down the hall to the bathroom, from which the sound of flushing soon presaged her return. Entering the room, she sniffed, and blushing slightly, apologized for the odor. "I guess I should have eaten something yesterday. I was just too stressed to eat.
"What are your plans for today? Are you going to see your mother? How long since she was here last?"
Don glanced at the bed, then back to her. "I thought..."
"I imagine you did. Look, Donald, you said if I married you, you wouldn't force the company into having an audit, which would most likely result in my father going to jail. We're married, but that doesn't mean we're lovers. I'll let you fuck me two or three times a month, since that's the monthly average for married people, but don't expect anything more than that.
"I will host dinner parties for you, and introduce you to some people who belong to the country clubs, and do what I can to advance you socially. But you'll have to change some things you do, too." She adjusted her robe and tightened the belt, sitting down on the side of the bed, facing him.
"I had planned on resigning my job, but in talking to Dad yesterday, I think you are going to need someone at work advocating for you to keep your position. This new guy has Dad pretty hyped up on using the internet for sales, cutting our need for a live sales force of twelve to fifteen down to less than four or five. I'll find a way to help you keep your position; you'll just have to trust me."
"Trust you? I'm not even sure I know you any more. I watched you grow from when you started as a summer college intern until you came to work and became your father's right hand. But the woman I saw yesterday and last night, she's a total stranger to me."
Max stood up and took off her robe, revealing all her hickeys and bite marks. She walked to her dresser and took out some underwear to put on. "I'm sorry, Donald, maybe you should have tried to get to know me socially before you put all that effort into such an elaborate extortion scheme. This is who you married, and who you'll have to contend with."
"What about the guy who did that to you? You going to keep seeing him?"
"Him? I don't know. He did me a favor, and was useful. I might. Depends on what he wants to do, if anything."
"Do I know him?"
"I don't think so, although you may have met him once or twice. I think he's been to the plant to see Dad."
"A friend of your Dad's? An older guy, then; someone who could teach you..."
"All sorts of fun games? Yes, but I've found I'm pretty much of a vanilla sex girl. I like to look at and hold my lovers."
"Lovers?" he choked. "H...h...how many..."
"Q and A is over, Donald. Notice, I haven't asked you anything about the women you've had in Buffalo and Toronto. Don't look so surprised. When you brag in the break room, stories like those get told around. From some of what I've heard, I'm guessing they were call girls. You really should find yourself a local girlfriend. Safer and less expensive."
She finished straightening her sweater. "I'm going down to start breakfast. The bathroom down the hall is safe to use. Dad has his private one for him and Edie. Lee Brock is down in the in-law apartment in the basement, which has its own bath. Be careful, though; the latch doesn't always catch. We can't have you flashing Edie," she said with a grin, as she walked out the door.
Don sat there, a feeling of dejection settling into his soul. Of all the possible outcomes he had imagined, Max's cold hearted acceptance of the situation had not been among them. Even her suggestion that he get a local girlfriend underscored her opinion that theirs was strictly a marriage of—what, certainly not convenience. "It was more like the royal marriages of the Middle Ages," he thought, "except there was no pressure to produce an heir. Christ wouldn't that be a fucking complication.
"Ah, well, she promised me we'd screw a couple of times a month. I'll just have to be better than last night, and better than her 'friend.' At least she seemed to be impressed with my cock."
He went to the john and tended to business, then dressed. On the way downstairs, he heard Max and her father talking. "You're really considering that internet thing, huh?"
