Bruces Journey

"Bruce, Gretchen Chaldony is on line one for you."

"Thanks Linda, I'll get it from here."

"Hello Gretchen."

"Hi Bruce – got another client who needs your help – can we get together next week on Wednesday at 9 in my office – I'll fax your office all the usual information today – that sound good?" One thing I will say about Gretchen, she can make a question a command easily.

"Let me check Gretchen" I placed her on hold. I already knew it would work, and I am pretty sure she did as well. But for the sake of appearances, well. "I will have to do a little juggling, but I can make it then."

"Thanks Bruce – you are a dear. See you then." Click. She was gone.

Gretchen Chaldony was one of the most expensive and one of the best estate attorneys in town. That woman's firm really knew it's stuff, and she herself specialized in mega estate planning only. I knew this was going to be a large case, requiring a tremendous amount of work. Good thing I had hired good people. As I sat at my desk, I reflected on how my life had gotten to this point. And to think, it all started as a volunteer coach of a little girl's softball team a few years ago..............

Let me start by telling you about me. My name is Bruce Roberts. I am an overweight, out of shape ex-jock who is losing his hair. I tell you this because I want you to know I have no delusions about who I am or what I am. I am a financial planner, or at that time was trying to be. In the course of the previous 5 years, I had built up a nice little practice. I was not anywhere near the big time, nor did I have any aspirations to be. I made an OK living, had a part time receptionist/secretary/assistant, and lots of free time. So much free time in fact, when my daughter wanted to play softball, I said I would coach when no one else would.

On that fateful day, I was sitting in my office. Playing solitaire on the computer, wasting time until lunch. I did that a lot. Linda buzzed me. "Bruce, there is a woman on the line – a Susan Taylor Klingem. I checked, and we don't have a client with that name." Susan Taylor Klingem – I knew that name. Her daughter Leelee was on my softball team. At the start of the season, I had handed out my philosophy along with contact numbers. And someone was actually using it. I was amazed.

"I'll take it Linda." I put the phone back in the cradle and waited for the ring.

This woman was something else. Rich didn't describe her. Her husband Tom was one of those guys – we all know one – who just was a great guy who made a bunch on money. I wasn't exactly sure what he did at the time, but I knew it was in real estate. He came to all the practices and games, clearly doting on Leelee. I liked the man. He was very unpretenscious, just a regular guy who could make things happen in the real estate world. I had no idea how much he made things happen, as his idea of flaunting his wealth was to try to buy the kids ice cream after games. I had set up a rotating snack schedule, but he still kept telling me "a kid can't ever have too much ice cream." Well, I knew for a fact I was living proof you could. But Tom wouldn't take no for an answer, and the kids did enjoy the extra treats.

Now Susan was the exact opposite, she was wealthy and she let you know it. She was not a big woman, very slim and petite. Always made up nicely. Not much in the chest department, but not bad either. The one physical feature she has was she had one nice rear end. Very nice. Probably from all the working out – or plastic surgery. Didn't care. It was nice. And the clothes, the cars, the houses, the tan, well, you get the picture. And here I was waiting to talk to her.

I picked up the phone on the second ring. "Bruce Roberts, may I help you?"

"Bruce, Susan Taylor Klingem here. Tom and I wondered if you would by chance have some time we could schedule tomorrow – we are considering changing planners and would like to talk to you." Holy shit. The Klingems wanted an appointment – with me. This was huge – very huge.

"Well, Susan, let me see. Tomorrow is already crowded." I paused for effect.

"Bruce, I know it is short notice – please – we will take any time you have since it is such short notice." Warning bells should have sounded, but I was too blinded by my apparent good luck.

"Well Susan, I can squeeze you in at 10 tomorrow morning – will that work?" I tried to sound like this was a routine thing, as the only thing I had scheduled at 10 the next day was more solitaire. "And why don't I just stop by your home, since I will be in the area. That will save you a trip downtown as well."

"Great Bruce, Tom and I will see you then." And click, she was gone.

Either she figured she thought I knew where she lived, or I would look up the actual address. I pulled out my roster, got the address, and buzzed Linda. "Linda, I will be out of the office in the morning. I am meeting with the Klingem's – they are looking for a new planner."

"No shit?" She replied.

"No shit" I put down the receiver and smiled. This was the break I thought I wanted.

At exactly 10 I pulled up into the drive. Man, what a house. This thing was huge. I had heard it was big – but still. Susan herself answered the door – kinda surprised me – I guess I expected a butler or something. She looked great – had on a white tennis style dress "Bruce - come in. I'm sorry, I just got off the courts – didn't have time to change prior to you getting here." She just walked in towards this room. "Please have a seat here in the library." A library. Never had been in a house before that had a library – half of my clients didn't even own a book, let alone a library.

"I'm sorry to say, Tom got called away this morning, so it will just be the two of us. I hope you don't mind. Can I get you something to drink?" So Tom wasn't there, and I knew Leelee was in school. So it was just the two of us – peachy.

I always accepted when I was offered something – and replied – "Sure – and ice water would be great" I always asked for something I knew my clients would have as to not embarrass them. Susan got up went over to the built in bar, and retrieved two bottles of water from a hidden fridge.

"Will this do?" She asked as she handed one to me. We sat down at the long conference table in the room. "Tom so loves this room" Susan said. "He likes to surround himself with knowledge." Now that I could see. Tom was always asking questions, not to challenge you, but to try to learn it himself.

Susan handed me a packet. "In here, you will find the basics of where we are now. Not the specifics, mind you, but the basics. Tom has requested you review them and let us know what you think." I already thought this was going well – should have realized that this was going too well. "And Bruce, since Tom isn't here, I would like to discuss something that is on my mind concerning Leelee and playing softball."

"Certainly Susan, go right ahead."

"Well Bruce, I came to the game the other evening, and Leelee didn't play the entire game. And to make matters worse, she has informed me that she has not been named the starting pitcher yet. Now I am sure this is just an oversight, and I am sure we can settle this." Oh wow – that little robot in my head – you know – the one that runs out and yells "warning – warning – danger - danger!" almost shot right out of my brain. I needed to tread carefully, choose my words wisely.

This was the first I heard that Leelee wanted to pitch. Usually she was very happy to go wherever I said, and I was in the habit of rotating all the kids in different positions. For the most part, playing time was pretty equal. All played, all sat. The only exception was at pitcher. I had one rule – the pitcher had to be able to get the ball to the plate. In practice, Leelee had not even wanted to try.

I sipped my water, trying to buy time. Susan sat there looking at me smiling. She was leaning in, showing just enough cleavage to be respectable, yet at the same time flirty. She leaned in closer "I wouldn't even bring this up, but it is very important to Leelee and well, it is important to me then." My mouth was still too dry – I felt like a cornered animal.

"Well Susan, to be honest, when I had the kids in practice try, Leelee didn't want to. She hasn't shown an interest in this at all. So I am somewhat caught off guard by this news."

Susan looked at me and gave me a "warm" smile. "Bruce, I can completely understand." Her hand was now touching my arm. "That's why I thought it would be appropriate for you and I to discuss this privately."

"Bruce, I have been working very hard with Leelee to help her realize her dream here. I do not want to cause any problems, but we must simply work this out." Again with the smile, this time along with a brush of her hand. "And another thing, those uniforms the girls are wearing are simply not acceptable. So I will take the liberty, I hope you don't mind, of contacting a supplier to order new ones much more fitting for the girls. The new ones could be in next week." Oh boy. So when the charm hadn't gotten it done, out came the checkbook. I still hadn't quite figured out what the entire agenda was, but it was becoming clearer.

"Well Susan, that is a very generous offer, but I am afraid I can't accept. The school provides the uniforms, and well, we aren't in line for new ones. Even donated ones."

"Bruce, I would hate to jeopardize our possible working relationship over something as trivial as these items, but I simply must insist that these changes take place in the near future, or I do not see us being able to work together."

Ahhhhh, there it was – the trump was on the table so to speak. In other words bozo – do as I say or you have no shot. Let it be said I am not always the brightest bulb in the socket, but I do have my principals. OK – at least one.

"Susan, I simply cannot accept new uniforms for the girls. As for Leelee pitching, at the next practice I will have her try and evaluate her. If she can, I will certainly use her, as I would anyone who wants to try." I watched Susan's face color. I knew when I said that this was not going to be pretty, and it was about to get much worse. The next statement was going to seal my fate here.

"And to be honest, at this age there isn't going to be a starting pitcher named. I do not want to put any pressure on any one girl to think she "has" to do something." There. I said it. The daydreaming I had done over the last 24 hours had been fun, but mean old Mr. Reality just reared his ugly head.

Susan's face was now red. "I can see this conversation is going nowhere. You are being completely unreasonable." She was now visibly shaking. "How do you ever expect to make anything out of yourself without the favors and help from those of us who can assist you?"

Me? Make anything out of myself? If there was ever a hot button, Susan had just pushed it – hard. I came from a modest background and was very happy with where I was. I got angry. Shouldn't have, but did. I stood up, glaring across the table.

"Well Princess, let me explain a few things. First off, I don't need yours or anyone's approval in how I manage to run my life. Secondly, I feel sorry for your husband and your daughter – you are a spoiled bitch. You don't get your way and wham, you attack. Well, toots, it is not going to work this time."

I started to gather my things. I was done. Goodbye account. Goodbye opportunity. And probably goodbye coaching. I was too mad to care. "How dare you" Susan sputtered, "How dare YOU speak to ME that way!" She was shouting. I looked at her.

"Ya know, I don't blame you. Had you gotten spanked when you needed it, you wouldn't be acting like you needed one now – like a spoiled little brat!" Wonderful – now I was telling Susan Taylor Klingem she needed a spanking, because she was acting like a brat. Might as well just got back and pack up the office.

Susan looked at me, her mouth agape. She gave this little smile, like I had stepped into her trap, and she was about to finish me off. "I suppose you think YOU are man enough to give me one don't you?" She kinda sneered as she said it. "Personally, I would like to see you try."

Great – now insults to my manhood too. But the anger over her attitude just got the better of my reasoning. I'm not a violent man (well, I used to be more assertive, but with age.....). This woman had pushed every button I had. My brain did go into gear first this time.

"Right – I touch you – I get arrested for assault. Not a chance."

To this day, I do not know why she did what she did. Must have figured I was bluffing, and was trying to humiliate me, or whatever. Susan walked over to the desk, picked up a sheet of paper, wrote on it, put it only the table and pushed it at me. "Here ya go big man" her voice just dripped sarcasm. "Your get out of jail free note". I looked at the paper. She had scrawled on it – "I hereby give permission to Bruce to try to spank me – if he can. I will not press charges."

Damn. The challenge was set. I now was keenly aware of my own breathing. Susan smiled smugly, like she knew, just knew I wouldn't. She thought she had won. My anger got stronger, and a thought crossed my mind. "Why not?" I thought, "Why not teach this little bitch a lesson – after all, she is going to do damage." I looked around the room, and spotted this loveseat that would work just nicely. I came around the table right at her. Susan stood her ground, smiling that smirky smile. I am sure she figured I would back off when I saw she didn't move. But like I said, I wasn't really thinking beyond the next 10 minutes.

A long time ago, I was a pretty decent wrestler with pretty good power. If that failed me now, I was going to have to move away. I grabbed Susan's wrist, pulled her off balance, and picked her up onto my shoulder. Her free fist was beating on my back, and her legs kicking. Not making much if any contact, but she was trying. I walked over to the loveseat and dumped her on it. As she started to stand, I sat down and grabbed her off balance again, this time pulling her over my lap. I put one arm right across the middle of her back, effectively pining her against me. With my leg, I caught her outside leg and pinned it as well. Now brain was in neutral. Without thinking, my free hand flipped up her dress, exposing her tennis panties. SLAP – the first blow was struck. Susan howled.

Looking back – I am glad the house was so big and set back from the road. SLAP SLAP SLAP followed in quick succession. "STOP" Susan screamed – "STOP!" The problem was, I had no intention of stopping. This woman was going to get what was coming to her, and since I had the note, well, I was now thinking I wanted this to last a bit.

"These will just have to go," I said as I reached out and started to slide the tennis pants down.

Susan struggled even harder "That wasn't part of the deal" She cried. I didn't reply, but I was having problems getting them off. Without another thought, I grabbed them in my hand, bunched them up and ripped them off at the side.

"OOOOOWWWWW" Susan was now struggling harder "That HURT!!!!" Now I had over my lap her naked ass, I could see the reddened areas where she had been slapped already. And I went to work. SLAP SLAP SLAP - over and over and over. Not missing a single spot on her shapely however much redder ass. After about 40, 50, 60 slaps – I really wasn't counting, I realized Susan was no longer struggling. It was like she was resigned to accepting her fate now. I did a few more well placed smacks, though not as hard. I could hear and feel her crying. Her ass just radiated heat.

Now I am no attorney, but I am pretty sure I was going to jail – even with the note. One last good slap, and I dumped Susan off my lap onto the floor, where she landed right on her red and inflamed ass. She let out this howl. She looked so funny sitting there – legs spread, mascara running down her cheeks, trying desperately to get off her ass. My anger gone, I started to laugh. Hard. Very hard. Susan stopped and looked at me. I could tell she was confused, but I figured it had to do with my reaction to the events. It wasn't for a good few seconds I realized the leg of my pants where Susan had been laying had a big wet spot on them.

Susan was still staring at me in disbelief. I stood up, trying to act as nonchalant as possible – like this was an everyday event for me. Without a word, I walked over, picked up my things, and the note as well. Susan continued to sit on the floor; legs spread, staring, just staring at me with a glassy look in her eyes.

I got in my car, drove home, contemplating what to do next. First thing I figured was to wash these pants where she had peed on me. I headed home. Got there, went straight to the laundry. I was thinking if I got these washed fast enough, there wouldn't be any "evidence." Like I said, I wasn't thinking. I peeled them off, and set them on the washer, put them in and headed for the shower. Man, I was so busted.

After my shower, I decided to call Linda and tell her I would not be in for the rest of the day. I figured I didn't want to be arrested at the office; I would rather go from home. I don't know why, just sounded better I guess. I figured that if I went from the office, people might think I did something wrong professionally. And just in case I beat it, I didn't want that.

After one sleepless night, I thought I couldn't hide from what was going to happen so I went in. Linda met me at the door. "Must have been some meeting for you to blow off the rest of the day" she smiled. If she only knew I thought. Well, she was a good employee, she would find another job. I would let people know she had nothing to do with what happened.

"This came for you late yesterday" she said holding up a letter. "By private courier no less. Not to mention a Gretchen Chaldony called and told me she was sending over something for you. She wants you to call her as soon as you get in." I looked at my watch – it was 9:30 AM and already I felt sick. I walked into my office, looking at the message, holding the unopened letter in my hand.

I dialed the number – then went right into shock when the line was answered "Fine, Chaldony and Werks – Attorneys at Law – May I help you?" I didn't respond. "Hello? Hello?" I put the receiver down, my hands a cold sweaty mess. I know I was pale. I got up and unsteadily closed my door, mumbling to Linda not to disturb me. I sat back down and just stared into space.

Well, another fine mess my pride had gotten me into. I just couldn't back down from her challenge, and now I was trapped. I just sat there. After a while, Linda buzzed me, snapping me back to reality. "Bruce, there was another letter delivered and Gretchen Chaldony is on line one for you." "Tell her I am in a meeting, and I will get back to her." I knew my behavior was not what Linda expected, but I was trying to think. And I couldn't.

After a few more minutes (or hours, I wasn't sure) Linda buzzed again. "Bruce, this time it is flowers for you – I'm bringing them in." A second later my door opened. Linda walked in carrying flowers – a big bouquet. I looked at her. "The card is sealed Bruce, and it is marked personal – must have been some meeting!"

I wish she wouldn't keep saying that, but now I was even more confused. Linda looked at me, clearly expecting me to read the card and show it to her. I opened it, and all it said was "Bruce, looking forward to working with you and your staff – Tom Klingem." I was so floored.

Linda read the card over my shoulder and started whooping in my ear. "I knew it – I knew it" she was crowing – "you did have a good meeting!"

I handed the card and flowers back to her. "Please go put these somewhere nice." Linda scurried from the office. I closed the door behind her. I reached from the first envelope addressed to me with a personal and confidential statement on it. No other address, all typed up nice and neat. My hands shook as I opened it, pulled out the letter and started reading: