Someone once said, "If all work is play, then play would indeed be work." I had a job and so did Sheila. Actually, Sheila had three jobs. Given our schedules, it was amazing how much quality time we had already managed. Fiery, I use the term advisedly, orgasms were wonderful, but intimacy is made up of little courtesies and helpful thoughts.
In a small epiphany, I realized that this is what was lacking in all my previous lovers. They may have been technically gifted, but they were not putting me before themselves. To be fair, neither had I. With Sheila, it seemed the natural thing to do. It also gave me a chance to play with her tits, which she liked to hide in a bank vault. As I gave her our parting hug, an evil thought was growing in my mind.
Work was an odd hash that morning. The weekend had been uneventful, in many ways, at least for the businesses. With the catalog finally approved, nothing significant was pending on the auction. No major overseas issues were underway, and the routine dealings were handled at a lower level. It was, for my job as CEO, a slack period. Ordinarily, this would mean several meetings where various people pitched ideas.
Instead, I was on the phone with bankers and local businessmen—Sheila was the only female expected to attend—discussing the agenda for our meeting that afternoon. Attendance required $50,000, paid into an escrow account. When it comes to separating businessmen from dalliers, all that is needed is a demand for money. When I am doing a deal, talk is not cheap. It says something about my reputation that only one potential player begged off.
Sheila did not know about the cash up front requirement, yet, because I posted her portion as well as my own. It was one of the details we would need to iron out, which was why I went to Legal. Curtis had several things for my attention, beginning with Sheila's prenuptial agreement. That went quickly. After that, Curtis and I discussed Sheila's idea about forming an LLC. Curtis promised to get busy on a set of charter documents, which meant he was 100% behind the idea. In passing, I mentioned the day we met at the DMV. Curtis gave me an odd look. He told me that except for the birth of his son, it had been the most important day in his life. Everyone's mind seemed to be on babies.
Helen had her usual list of items, broken down by priority. LM Bujold had a wonderful rating system—garden snake, venomous snake, hissing venomous snake. I added a fourth level, involving the hissing snake and soft anatomical parts. For an important day, the herpetarium was surprisingly quiet. There was a pair of messages from Francine. One was a note mentioning $100,000 and requesting bank routing. The other was contact information for her costume and construction people. Down the list a ways was arrival information from my sister Jo. I had to get those two together.
Getting Jo was easy. We kept up with each other, so her private number was on my cell. I told Helen to work the numbers Francine had provided til she got her in person. Twenty minutes later the three of us were conference calling. My part was purely for introductions. After that, I barely managed the proverbial edgewise word. Given that Francine has a high school education and Jo is an Ivy League PhD, the two sound surprisingly alike. It got worse. The longer they talked, the more the similarity grew. Sheila was taking both of them to get corsets fitted for the bridesmaid dresses. The thought of the three together was frightening.
Eventually, the first rush wound down. Francine would have people swarming by morning. Jo and her dozen of handpicked graduate students were arriving that evening. I mentioned Sheila's idea of using the party boat as a floating stage. That had both of them going for a while. Jo had some interesting ideas for fun and games. It seemed that one of her grad students specialized in the Amish lifestyle, which uses no electricity. She gave me a list of people to contact.
I gave both of them Rick Williams number at Special Events. He could kill me later. I also mentioned the dust covered side show Rick and I had found. More excitement. Sheila had wanted horse drawn carriages. I suggested hiring Amish carriages and Amish young men to drive them. This led to a discussion of food service and Amish young women as servers. In turn, this led to more discussions of costuming, then dress code.
Finally, we reached our first decision. The invitations would need to go out by tomorrow morning. They started discussing the Reception Ball, which would be fully formal. At that point, I bowed out. There was no telling how long they would be at it. I called the number Jo had given me, which turned out to be a Mennonite church near Philadelphia. The Amish are to Mennonites like Orthodox are to Jews. The Amish are a smaller, stricter portion of the whole. I spoke to an Elder Neufeld, who was raised Amish, but no longer kept the strict observances. I had explained the situation and asked if the time frame could be made to work. As an after thought, I asked about boat restorations.
He was not very helpful, until I told him about the boat. Woodworking has great pride of place in Mennonite communities. For that alone, he was prepared to meet me. As for the rest, something might be arranged, if I was willing to hire a couple of train cars for a special run. Elder Neufeld promised to know more when we met.
After that unusual conversation, I checked back with Helen. She informed me that hurricane Sheila had arrived. Sure enough, there was a long list of emails awaiting my attention. Most, but not all, of them were from HR. Sheila's intention may have been to put her name in the rumor mill. If so, taking my card to HR was inspired. I suspected I had CC to thank for that detail. What Sheila did with the suggestion was even more spectacular. With all the gossip that had to be running, I hoped we managed some work.
Emilia Lucann was the only one that required a response. I sent a confirmation of the nuptials and copied everyone and their house pets. Almost immediately, I received word from Helen that Sheila and CC had arrived. Time to revisit Curtis.
One thing I loved about Sheila was her ability to make an entrance. Her outfit was very much in keeping with that tradition. It was closely fitted, which was not surprising given the bustier. She wore three inch ankle strap navy pumps. The suit was a cream colored linen, with a deep red blouse. Instead of earrings, she had simple sapphire studs. On the left breast, she wore a red and blue brooch. Her hair was up, but loosely, secured with a vintage comb and three long ivory pins. It framed her face very well. Her makeup was just mascara and red lipstick, which matched the blouse.
I gave Sheila a quick hug, which she pressed, then stepped back. I glanced at CC. When Sheila shrugged, I suggested that some time back in Auctions would be helpful. Sheila sent CC off with just a glance. Seeing them together reminded me of something. I told Helen to find out about au pair training and to get CC enrolled. Sheila's smile was like a sunrise.
Signing the prenuptial agreement was no fun, but such things rarely are. Curtis' contract reserved the house, grounds, contents and my stock portfolio, particularly in Richards Enterprises. Sheila's section reserved the warehouse building, franchise rights to the gym, contents of her studio and personal property. The list was fairly impressive, much of it wearable. Jo would love the contents of Sheila's vanity.
With that chore done, we could turn to our real estate interests. The new company was to be called K & T Properties, LLC. Sheila was to contribute the warehouse. I would contribute the fair market value of the building plus the reasonable going concern value of the XTreme Fitness franchise. This amount was to be determined, but not less than $100,000. I produced the statement of deposit for the escrow account. I proposed this amount constitute the first $50,000. Sheila looked mildly surprised, but agreed without comment.
After that, we haggled a bit on officers and meeting requirements. The state will not let you have a company that does literally nothing. At minimum, there have to be regular meetings, with minutes taken. Sheila gave Curtis the name of her accountant and signed a disclosure document. Then the three of us moved to the car and headed to the meeting.
The meeting was the usual gathering of businessmen. George Ablot claims he never made a dollar in a suit. He made his money clipping coupons from his father's ConEd bonds. Fred and Frank Fitzpatrick never wear anything but a three piece suit, then take off the jacket and tie. Fred was an architect and Frank was a general contractor. James Jameson used to own the newspaper, before he sold to Gannett. More recently he runs a list of rental properties and parking lots. Michael Weston—he hates the jokes—made his money in construction. He sold that company and started a new one that specialized in restorations. The only lawyer in the group, not counting the advisers, was J. Harlan Lipton, loosely related to the Lipton Tea family.
It was not the biggest or most powerful group the city had ever seen, but it would do. Everyone at the table, except Sheila, myself and George Ablot had held city office at some point. The Fitzpatricks and Weston stayed up to date on all zoning and proposed zoning. Ablot had family ties with various state and federal agencies, plus a brother who was a major concrete and paving contractor. If someone was in our way, these men could rock their boat.
Sheila rocked them. I do not think any of them recognized her at first glance. Having seen Sheila in Cynthia mode, I was not surprised. Because of this, they were taken aback, since she was a completely new face. Nor was her name a help. Only Harlan Lipton recognized it, though I could see that several of the advisers also made the connection. However, when she spoke, four sets of eyes widened suddenly. Their sudden glances were met with a Cynthia smile. Jameson, Weston and Ablot all swallowed. Lipton smiled even wider. Interesting reactions.
