02

Prologue

"He fucked me".

Kendall said those three words as she blinked away a tear that fell out of the corner of one eye and down her cheek.

The woman who sat across from her with a notepad said nothing.  She jotted a note, circled something, and asked in a flat but soft voice, "So you had sex with him?"

Kendall looked up and looked at her.  She had salt and pepper hair, was about 50, named Lisa, and was supposedly the best therapist her health insurance would cover.  Was she stupid?  Did, he fucked me,  not adequately describe the act?

Kendall shook her head, and said, "Yes, and No. It's hard to explain." She said, "He fucked me. It wasn't just sex." It was the only words she had to describe the experience, as crude as it was.

Lisa circled the word, Rape?, with a question mark and then said, "So what's the difference?"

Kendall considered her, another tear rolling out of her eye. She was suddenly angry and had an urge to scream at the therapist who sat there so calmly with a pen and paper.

She took a deep breath and thought, If you are bound to a table in a strange kitchen, bent over, cumming so hard you squirt a puddle on the tile floor, with a man shoving his cock up your ass, its fucking, not sex.  She remembered that exquisite feeling, forgetting about everything else for a moment. Then she came back to the present. She was afraid all over again.

She said, "It's different. This wasn't sex exactly, at least not the way you are thinking of it.  He just," She paused trying for a different word and failing. Finally she repeated "He just fucked me."

The therapist said, "And how do you feel about that?"  She made another note and Kendall had the urge to take the pen and ram it in her eye.

Kendall sighed, defeated, another tear leaking out of her eye and said, "Used, vulnerable, dirty, broken, excited, aroused,"  She paused, "I think I felt everything. It's hard to describe."

Lisa asked, "Do you love him?"

Kendall shook her head. No not love. There was nothing in her heart that felt love for him. Lust, yes. Desire, most definitely. Fear, absolutely. And attraction. That was the problem and the reason she was here sharing this very personal moment. She had to break the attraction. The need to go to him. The way the thought of him drew her in. No it wasn't love, but it was need and hunger. She said, "I don't love him. I even hate him sometimes."

Lisa put down the pen and paper and said, "Let's start at the beginning."

Kendall sighed and said, "The beginning." She considered and said, "I don't even know when these feeling started anymore, but if you ask me about my childhood I will punch you." It was a joke but it broke the tension.

Lisa said, "If you want to go back that far we can, but I was thinking you start by telling me how you met Jacob."

Kendall sighed and said, "I guess it started on June 5th. I only remember that because it was my 32nd birthday and my husband made me breakfast." The thought of her husband and her birthday put a ball of anxiety in her stomach. No doubt Robert would divorce her, and maybe he should. The thought terrified her because she did love Robert deeply. How had this happened? She loathed herself. But even then, sitting with a wadded up ball of tissues, trying to make sense of it, part of her was drawn to Jacob. It hit her like a nicotine craving would sometimes hit a former smoker; it was an all consuming hunger.

Lisa picked up the notebook again as Kendall said, "Robert made me breakfast that morning."

BOOK ONE

PARADISE LOST

Please allow me to introduce myself

I'm a man of wealth and taste

I've been around for a long, long year

Stole many a man's soul and faith

Sympathy for the Devil, The Rolling Stones, 1968

Chapter 1

One

June fifth

Kendall woke, stretched, and rolled toward Robert's side of the bed to find a cool pillow. She sighed and thought she smelled coffee. She stretched again, and slipped out of bed. It was after seven in the morning and this was sleeping late for her. Her normal routine would be to wake up shortly after five, don her workout clothes, and hit the stationary bike in the basement for a half hour. Then she would shower and be in the office by 6:30. It was her habit to try to be the first in the office, and most days she was. She wouldn't make partner sleeping in. Then she would put in ten or twelve hours of work and try to get home in time to have dinner with Robert. Most days she succeeded and dinner was her favorite part of her day, when she shared her triumphs and challenges with him, and he with her.

They had been married 8 years now and she seemed as in love with him as she was the day he proposed. The passion may have been muted as will happen with any long term couple, but the love was there. It might have even been stronger having been forged in the fires of shared experiences, both good and bad. The love was there and it would never die. She took great comfort in that she could share herself so completely with her spouse.

She donned a robe, another guilty pleasure, not getting dressed right away. She found Robert in the kitchen. His back was to her and she smiled a secret smile taking him in. He was in his own robe, barefoot, standing six foot or maybe a quarter inch under. At 31 she would be older than him for 7 weeks. She smiled again at the thought. He had dark hair, a little tousled from the sleep, and broad shoulders. He was humming a song she didn't recognize over a pan of frying bacon. He scooped one of the pieces out, put it on a plate with a paper towel to soak up the grease, and then cracked an egg.

Kendall said, "You know cholesterol kills more men than motorcycles?"

He turned, saw her, smiled and said, "Well then can I buy a motorcycle?"

She moved to him, letting him wrap his arms around her, and said, "No. It's my birthday. I get bacon."

He kissed her and said, "Happy birthday love."

She loved that he called her 'love' when they were alone.

She took a piece of bacon, nibbled it and said, "You got up early today." Robert usually got up after Kendall's morning workout which sometimes created competition for the shower. He always offered to wash her back, and once in a while she even let him.

He said, "Well I can't send an old woman off to work on her birthday on an empty stomach."

She said, "Watch that old woman talk or you will be sleeping on the couch until your birthday and you are old too."

He shook his head and said, "No on my birthday the clock resets. Old isn't until thirty three after my birthday."

She said, "I see you have rewritten the calendar to serve your selfish wants."

He only smiled. Then he said, "You got a big day today. Are you ready?"

She looked at him and nodded. She did have a big day today. Today she was part of the pitch team for a new client and it was the first she had led. She said, "I have to win this client. I mean the only way anyone makes partner is to make it rain. This could be a 30 million dollar account if we get the corporate and personal contracts."

Robert said, "Tell them its your birthday. They won't be able to say, 'no'. It would be rude."

She laughed and said, "What's your day like?"

He shrugged and said, "The usual. I"m going to write some software, make some billionaire richer, and come home and have sex with my wife."

She turned to him at that last part, smiled and said, "Sex with your wife huh? That sounds like fun. You better hope she closes this deal and is in a good mood."

He said, "She will. She is a bad ass." That made Kendall's heart warm. Then he said, "And if not, we can open a bottle of wine and I will tell her what utter fools they are for not recognizing her talent and how they don't deserve her."

Kendal rolled her eyes and said, "I like the first scenario better."

Robert went to her, kissed the top of her head and said, "Me too. I love you."

He meant it and she could feel it. He made her two eggs over toast and added another piece of bacon to her plate. She took a bite and was about to ask for some coffee, when Robert handed her a steaming cup. He said, "Just a splash of almond milk".

She melted again. Any man who knew how a woman liked her coffee was worth something. She added 'sex' to her mental to do list that lived inside her obsessive and ambitious mind.

Then Robert said, "Happy birthday babe. I got to get to work, but I'll take you out to dinner tonight if you want.".

She said, "No, but pick up a pizza. I want a night in with you."

He raised an eyebrow and then smiled.

Two

Kendall's office was on the top floor of the high rise building. It was not the best office; those were reserved for partners, but she had a view of Lake Shore Drive and Lake Michigan. She had no time to appreciate the view. She went to her large desk, sat, and picked up the first of six binders that represented the legal construct of the pitch she had been working on for six months. The managing partner, David Gimble, was her boss and largest equity holder in the firm, Gimble and Associates. He started the firm out of law school in the 1980s an rode the wave of merger and acquisitions and all the legal work that went along with it. Then he started buying smaller firms, collecting clients, building his network, and making himself one of the wealthiest attorneys in the United States. Gimble and Associates now had offices in Chicago, New York, Washington DC, and most recently San Francisco. They had affiliate firms in London, Singapore, and Dubai for those clients with international aspirations.

The firm specialized in corporate litigation, merger and acquisition, and when needed, trying to keep their uber wealthy clients out of prison mostly for tax evasion or other white collar crimes.

Kendall brought up the powerpoint that would be her pitch. It was 14 slides, paired down from the 200 that her team had compiled, and she had practiced it several times a day to keep the pitch to 45 minutes. The meeting was scheduled for an hour, but often times these things ran over. She was pitching to Willard Mitchell, the owner of Mitchell Industries. She picked up the file marked, "Biographies" and flipped to the page with Willard's picture. He was an old man, nearly 75, gray with thinning hair, a little overweight, with cold dark eyes. He had a reputation for being aggressive, brilliant, and in some cases ruthless when it came to running his business. His firm was currently under investigation by the department of justice for antitrust, wire fraud, and insider trading. She smiled. He must have pissed someone important off. His loss; her gain. The legal fees for that complex defense, if it came to charges, would be astronomical. She smiled again. That would definitely make it rain. She had a brief fantasy of moving to a corner office. Then she shook her head to clear it and said to herself, "Win the business, then worry about the corner office."

She began to read the file with Willard's biography. She had read it at least a hundred times and could almost narrate it. Willard had one child with his wife before she died in a car accident years earlier. She was struck crossing a street in New York City at ten o'clock in the morning. The driver had sped away after the incident and disappeared. The car was recovered but the driver was never found.

Her son and husband survived her. Now Willard was nearly 75 and rumors of health problems swirled through the small fraternity of business elites. Mitchell Industries was privately held and nearly impossible to know some of the machinations that went on inside the firm, not being subject to stringent federal reporting requirements. That was the way Willard liked it because much of his fortune, at least in the beginning came from leveraging personal relationships, side dealing, and in some cases threats. He had been bold and aggressive as a young man, and as a senior he had not softened. Forbes estimated his net worth to be between 2 and 4 billion dollars. Not the richest man in the world, but more than enough to satisfy his every want or desire.

Willard had one son who was likely to inherit or step into the top job at Mitchell Industries if the old man actually did retire at the end of the fiscal year. He was expected to stay on as chairman of the board for the sake of continuity. His likely successor was his son, Jacob, and there was a shorter biography of the man in the appendix. She had read it, but not with the obsession she had with Willard. Willard was who she was pitching to. Jacob was a secondary player at best.

David Gimble rapped once on the glass partition of her door, and without waiting for a reply, opened the door and stuck his head in. She smiled although the intrusion annoyed her. He did own the place but if her door was closed. He asked, "Morning. You ready to pitch?" David was 60 years old, wore a two thousand dollar gray suit, English shoes from a specialty store in London, and was classically handsome.

She nodded and said, "Yes. Ready. Thank you for the opportunity." David had assigned her to lead the pitch team six months earlier when he had heard through the grapevine that Mitchell Industries might be looking for new representation.

He nodded and said, "Well try and relax. You are only betting your career and future on this meeting." He smiled, which hinted that he was joking, but there was some truth in it too.

Kendall felt her stomach knot and said, "Yeah thanks for reminding me."

David grinned, "You will do fine. Your team has been in for an hour getting the conference room ready. They seem to have taken to your leadership."

She smiled at the compliment. She worked harder than anyone and hard work was respected. But profits were rewarded. David had told her that and he had been proven correct. Lawyers for hire, at least the ones in corporate law, only really succeeded by making it rain.

David left her with the files and contracts. Kendall spun in her two thousand dollar chair the firm had purchased for her and stared out at the lake. She checked her watch. The meeting was scheduled for 10 AM in the main conference room. It was 9:07. She turned back to the pile of paper on her desk, wondering for the five hundredth time if she had missed something.

Three

Robert Baker was in his home office. He was a software and security engineer and a very good one. He was passionate about computers and liked to stay current and on the cutting edge. He had built a small but powerful mini data center in their basement over the years as money and time allowed. His office had four 27 inch monitors covering a large 'L-shaped' desk. It was the successful nerd version of a man cave. As a hobby he wrote applications for mobile phones and even had a game published on google's website. That had brought in a small spurt of unexpected money that he used for a downpayment on their home.

He brought up a browser and did a search on Mitchell Industries. He knew how important this meeting was for Kendall and he was pulling for her. He read for ten minutes and at the end of it, still wasn't exactly sure what Mitchell Industries did. They seemed to be into everything from financing payday loans, providing asset based lending services, owned media franchises including newspapers and television, as well as some government contracts to the department of defense. He shrugged, wishing Kendall well in her pitch.

He glanced at the picture on his shelf, a photo of the two of them from their honeymoon. They were on a beach, the ocean in the background, and nearly a decade younger. He smiled remembering the day they had met.

Four

Robert met Kendall as an undergraduate and had immediately fallen in love with her. He tried to pinpoint the moment it happened and had narrowed it down to the moment he saw her eyes and she had smiled at him.

His analytical mind didn't understand the phenomenon, never having believed that a woman could have such an emotional impact on him. But Kendall had.

Robert believed in cause and effect, data driven decisions, and believed the world could be predicted, if not controlled, by knowledge and insights.

Kendall had shaken everything he knew to be true. The first time he saw her he was at a coffee house with another student. She had come in alone, ordered a coffee with almond milk, which at the time he didn't know existed. She turned with her coffee in her hand and their eyes had met. They had never spoken and never seen each other before, but she smiled and he felt his world tilt. The strangest thought occurred to him. That is the woman I am going to marry.

Kendall had taken a seat across the coffee shop and pulled out a laptop and began to poke at the keys as she sipped her coffee. Robert watched her and his friend, a sophomore who was struggling with a programming class, said, "Earth to Robert?"

Robert turned and said, "What?"

The struggling student said, "I was hoping you could help me with the programming. I have a project due and I just don't get how its supposed to work."

Robert said, "Sure. Come by the lab later this afternoon and I'll help you." Then he turned his focus back to the pretty young blond woman with the laptop. His friend, rebuffed, got up and said, "Okay, this afternoon."

Robert knew he was being rude but he was solely focused on Kendall. When he was alone he took a breath and in an act of bravery, comparable to storming the beaches at Normandy, walked over to the young woman. He approached and she looked up at him and smiled with curiosity on her face. He wasn't sure he would be able to speak and his mouth went dry. Finally he said, "Hi." That was all he seemed capable of.

Kendall looked up and said, "Hi yourself."

He wondered if she was teasing him. He felt uneasy and foolish. Why had he come over here? She probably had a boyfriend or at least a line of men that would sign up for the job. This was a mistake. Then she said, "Would you like to sit down?"

The question confused him for a minute, but when the words processed through his brain, he said, "Sure." He sat and surprisingly the two slipped into an easy conversation. They talked for an hour about school, hometowns, majors, and at the end of it, Kendall said, "Well I have to get to class."

Robert nodded, stood respectfully and said, "Would you like to grab dinner later?"

Kendall turned to him and said, "Dinner? You mean like a date?'

Robert felt his testicles tighten up into his body. This was when she would laugh at him and say something like, That's funny. Why would I go out with you? Instead of speaking he nodded, not trusting himself to speak, as his face went hot.

She grinned at him and he thought this must be what it feels like to stand in the sunshine after being in a submarine for six months. She said, "I'm free around seven."

Robert felt his heart soar and he said, "Awesome", with more enthusiasm in his voice than he intended. In his initial approach he imagined sweeping her off her feet with his wit and intelligence. Now he felt like the stuttering village idiot.

Kendall smiled and said, "Do you like pizza?"

Robert would have agreed to eat rice cakes covered in cow manure if Kendall was sitting across from him when he did it. He nodded and said, "Sure. Jake's pizza at 7?"

And that is how their relationship started. They did get pizza and Robert eventually relaxed enough to speak in coherent sentences. They made each other laugh and by the third dinner in as many days, both admitted there was something real there.

They fell into bed together a month later when that seemed more reasonable than going to class.

Five

Neither had been virgins at their first meeting, but neither had alot of experience either. Robert had been with four women. Three girlfriends whose relationships lasted four two years in one case, and two months on the other end of the spectrum. The fourth woman was a chance meeting that turned into a one night stand after one too many drinks. That experience had left him feeling a little guilty; the woman was gone when he woke up and he didn't even know her last name. He also worried about catching an STI if this woman was sleeping with random men all over campus, and was relieved a week later after his test came back negative.