1
The lady was right. Mary never sees the woman in the leopard-print skirt again. She never even hears what happened to her.
But we, dear readers,
do
know, and if you want in on the secret too, all you have to do is read on.
It's less salacious, at least initially, than Mary and her jealous peers hoped.
Leopard print, to whom we'll refer as Davina, was the wife of David Nunes, one of the two original founders of the C&P label, producers of some of your favorite popular music, no doubt: Grace Hill, Jack Alanson, Undercarriage, Bradley Argyle, and many others not quite as famous. Even if that kind of hip-hop isn't your thing, you'll understand that he was loaded like a garbage truck after Mardi Gras.
Anyway, Mr. Nunes was simply too tired to stay until the end of the fundraiser, having had a long day, so he asked Raoul — whom he trusted — to give his wife a ride home.
So Davina, along with two of Raoul's sisters, left in one of Raoul's Rolls Royce SUVs.
The middle seats had been removed to make room for Raoul's long legs, so poor Davina had to sit up front, with the driver, while Raoul and his sisters — two of the women who'd been with him turned out to be his sisters, so that at least was a relief to the jealous Davina — sat in the back.
She chatted up his driver, a bony, middle-aged Mexican woman, but she could not get any interesting information about Raoul. She settled for telling her cutest stories, hoping that maybe the driver had at least a tiny bit of influence over Raoul's opinions.
When they stopped in her husband's driveway — she struggled to think of anything "his" as also hers — she invited them all inside for a drink. Raoul looked at his sisters, who shrugged, and they all followed her inside.
The ladies entertained themselves while Raoul joined David in his library for a bit of Scotch.
Raoul knew David well, and could see that he was troubled.
He therefore sipped the Islay slowly, savoring the peat silently.
Finally, David spoke.
"Did you fuck her?"
Raoul looked up, startled. "Your wife?"
"Yeah."
"No."
David looked back into his whiskey.
"Thank you."
"David, are you alright?"
"She's been fucking everyone, Raoul."
With a sigh and a nod, Raoul also looked into his whiskey, wondering whether he'd ever be foolish enough to expect a beautiful woman fifty years younger than himself to be faithful.
"Anyway, no one serious yet. Just some fuck-ups she knew from school. Or met in town or something. No one like us."
Raoul nodded. He could hear the pain in David's voice.
A dick's a dick, at least when it's been in your wife, no matter how much or little money it's associated with.
"What are you gonna do?"
"Well, I've got to get rid of her. She disgusts me. But it's humiliating."
Raoul just kept nodding, looking at the whiskey. "How much of this have you got?"
David handed him the entire bottle, half empty with a label Raoul had never seen before, and Raoul poured himself another shot.
"You know what this means?" David asked.
Raoul shook his head.
"It means I'm old."
Raoul just sipped the whiskey.
"I should've kept Josie. She'd lost her looks, but she was decent at least."
Raoul nodded.
"This little bitch has me by the balls, though."
"How's that?"
"She knows I cheated on her first. I fucked up the prenup. I think she set me up."
"What?"
"Yeah. It was one of her friends. I think they set me up together."
"Oh, shit."
"Credit where credit's due," David sighed. "They got me."
"Jesus."
"Yeah." David reached for the bottle, but Raoul poured it for him. He threw it back in one shot, cleared his throat, and then looked back at Raoul. "So I need a favor."
"Okay." Raoul offered more whisky but David waved it off.
"I want you to break her."
Raoul just blinked. He was a worldly man, but this was an unusual request even in his experience.
"She's mad about you. Everyone can see it. Hell, she says your name in her fucking sleep. But she's humiliated me, and I want you to humiliate her."
Raoul nodded. Hell hath no fury, apparently, like a geriatric scorned.
"What do you want me to do to her?"
"Whatever. Just break her. Humiliate her. Make her regret this." He sighed with resignation, looking into his empty glass. "She's going to get tens of millions of dollars. That can't be helped. But make it hurt."
"Okay," Raoul nodded. "I'll do what I can."
He would need time to think over the ethics of this request, but for the moment "what I can" was honest enough.
"Thank you."
They sat in silence for awhile. Raoul poured himself another shot.
"You like that, huh?"
Raoul nodded.
"Ever heard of it?"
Raoul looked at the label again, searched his memory. He was something of a whiskey connoisseur, and he thought he knew his Scotch, but he couldn't remember anything like this.
"No."
"Very small distillery. Lovely place near the shore. It's not actually Islay. It's on Arran, about two islands away."
Raoul nodded.
"I know Arran."
"I own a third of it."
"Really?" Raoul smiled.
"Yeah. The distillery, not the island. But I do have a place there. I used to take vacations there. Lovely little home, old place about forty yards back from a rocky shore. Waves crashing all night and day. Emerald lawn, like a painting. A little bit of isolated beach when the tide's out. Fantastic."
"I'd love to visit sometime."
"Actually, I'd like you to have it."
Raoul looked at him. "To
have
it?"
"I'm old, Raoul. I might never fly all the way over there again. But if I change my mind, I'm sure you'd let me visit."
"Of course, but..."
"No, it's nothing. You can buy it from me if you feel bad. I'll give you a good deal. Hell, you can have it for a dollar."
"Why don't I have a look at it first?"
"Of course. And why don't you take her with you?"
Raoul shook his head.
"Before she goes anywhere with me, you've got to divorce her."
David nodded.
Raoul waited.
"Does she even know?"
David eventually sighed. "Not yet. But I should do that right now, while you're here."
David was in his seventies, but slouched in his chair at that moment, he looked at least ten years older than that.
"You gonna be okay?"
David nodded. "Send her in for me?"
Raoul stood up and offered his hand to help David get up. Then, when David was standing, Raoul embraced him like a grandfather.
"Happens to everyone, eventually," David said.
"Yeah."
"I'll manage it more gracefully after this."
Raoul chuckled and looked down at him.
"Why don't you just keep her then? Reign her in? Or let her play, as long as she keeps you comfortable?"
"No," David shrugged, stepping back to look up at him. "I'm too old for all that now. I don't want drama. I'll just get rid of her. I need you to do my dirty work for me."
Raoul nodded.
"And if you get anything out of it, good for you."
"What do you want me to do, actually?"
"Well, if you're up for it..."
"Yeah?"
"I want you to flirt with her a bit, but not sleep with her. Get her to introduce her friends to you, sleep with them. Make her jealous. Get them on your side. And turn them all against her. Make it hurt."
Raoul nodded.
"She's got nice-looking friends. She was a cheerleader back at Florida. She was in the College of Drama. A gaggle of them are out here now trying to sleep their way into the movies."
