Dont Look Back In Anger

It's been some time since I posted a story. That is because I have started several, but they have all petered out with me unable to find an ending. The idea for this one just came to me, and from there, the story just wrote itself. I hope it works.

Some people have commented on my location, but my location is unimportant. My stories are based in my head and the legal and social frameworks are what I need them to be to make the story interesting. I try to avoid geographical indications. The reason I write is to improve my style and I need to write to the audience, hence differences in the English. I am trying to avoid them.

Thanks again to my editor, kenjisato, he does a job which I greatly appreciate.

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It was the last place I wanted to be; in fact, if you offered me the gallows I might just have taken it. Where was I going? In to see my old employer, my old life and the inevitable confrontation with the woman who, I hoped, would soon be my ex-wife.

I'm Arney Potts (yes, they called me 'Potty' in school), and the woman in that building was named Cathy. She never took my surname after we married because she was called Johnston, and Johnston Industrial Chemicals was the biggest thing in this area for miles around. It was not only the biggest employer, but her father also picked the local politicians, ensured the judiciary made the right decisions, and kept everything running to his liking.

How did I, a kid from a middle-class town over a thousand miles away, with a middle-class upbringing and a daft nickname, end up in this rich and politically connected family. Simple, Cathy fell for me and I didn't have a hope in hell after that. Oh, and I had an amazing talent for process-flow engineering, which meant a business like Johnston's, could produce more outputs for the same inputs, reducing costs of production and boosting profits.

I started in Johnston's Research and Development department straight out of college, having achieved a master's degree in chemistry. My first job in the factory was to review a process the business had used for years to produce a weedkiller. They gave the job to every new employee in the R&D department to see how much of a mess they could make of it. Not only did I do a good job, they actually realised I had refined the formula slightly, increasing output by one percent. A small margin, but on a product that had a gross margin of five percent, it was a massive improvement. Mr Johnston fell in love with me immediately, and soon I was heavily involved in developing production formulas for Johnston's new product lines.

At that time, a young lady by the name of Cathy, had started in our department. Initially, we thought she was an intern, but she turned out to be the boss's daughter, learning the business from the ground up. As I said, she took a shine to me immediately, and before I knew what was happening, we were dating, then engaged, and finally married within three years of her walking into the department.

Cathy's family gifted us a house in a very good area, with plenty of land for her horses. We also had room for a 'large' family according to her mother, but neither of us was interested in that yet. By this time, Cathy was chief operating officer (COO) of the business, and doing a very good job. Only a couple of people knew I was married to the boss, and I was very happy to keep it that way.

For me, life changed about five years into our marriage. Cathy was promoted to chief executive officer (CEO), and her father semi-retired. Her working hours went up, but she also felt the need to 'press the flesh' with customers and some of the bigger investors who had stakes in the business. One of those was a venture capital (VC) fund that had taken a twenty-percent stake very early on, when Johnston's hit on its first great success and almost ran out of cash trying to meet demand.

Cathy's idea was to float the business on the stock exchange and the VC was looking forward to exiting the business and crystallising a massive profit on one of its oldest but most lucrative investments.

The first hint of trouble came at the first shareholders meeting. It was held over a weekend at a ski resort some five hundred miles out of town, so no one would see us. I went with Cathy, but would be excluded from the meetings. That wasn't an issue for me, because it was summer and the place also had a nice golf course, so I could play guilt-free golf and then have a great time in a big bed with my wife.

We arrived on the Friday night, and the plan was to have a dinner with the shareholders and their spouses as a meet-and-greet. The VC had appointed a new representative to the board, one who was on their disposal team. I straight-out disliked him. He was clearly a 'jock', who still fancied himself as something special. He came unattached and was way-too-over familiar with Cathy for my liking. She did brush him off, but not with the force I had seen her use on others who hit on her.

I was not pleased, and when we went to our room after dinner, I asked what the deal was. She said she knew him from college, that he was a ladies man, but they had never hooked up-- but she needed to stroke his ego to make sure he played ball when it came to the advisors in the float. She wanted to use the company advisors, but the VC could impose theirs, meaning they would screw the other investors.

I bought it, but knew this guy was a shark, and that he was trying to get into my fish pond.

The weekend was pleasant, I did play golf and Cathy and I made full use of the bedroom. And Cathy made sure the 'shark' was kept out of the fish pond. All in all, I was very happy.

Life continued as normal, well as normal as life could when a business is going through the excruciating process of listing itself on the stock market. Hours were long, mornings were early, and nights were late, and there was plenty of travel. I never worried, if there was a shareholder event where Mr. Shark (as I started to call him) was going to be there, then I was taken. If it was a meeting with advisors or the legal team, he was not there. Yes, he spent a lot of time in the office, but I trusted my wife and never had any problem with that, especially as her father was in every one of those meetings, as well.

It took eighteen long months to complete the process. During that time, neither Cathy nor I had a single day off, meaning we had several weeks of accrued holiday time. The deal was Cathy would remain as CEO, but a new deputy would be appointed to help take the strain.

It was about two weeks before the listing was to be completed when Cathy came home one night early. She looked exhausted and she just flopped down beside me and blurted out, "I'm done with this lifestyle. The deputy CEO is ready, I want to start a family after this shit is over. You and I will be financially secure for the rest of our lives; if we are going to do it, now is the time."

I was speechless. I had a feeling she was never going to find the right time, but here, out of nowhere, she had just decided. I just hugged her, and replied, "Okay, why don't we start on the night you and your dad ring the bell. That would be quite a party."

She sort of looked over my right shoulder, and said, "Yeah, why not?"

We both went to bed early that night, not to make love, because we were both exhausted, but just to hold each other.

The following Monday, several of the top managers, including me, as I was the head of process development within the R&D department, were called into the large conference room. Cathy did a presentation, telling us about the listing. As part of the process, we were all being offered new contracts of employment. Each of us was getting a significant raise, twenty percent in my case, but the contracts meant we could not resign for the next twenty-four months. Each of us was told we had to get independent legal advice before we signed.

After the main presentation, each employee had a private meeting with Cathy, except me. Again, as her husband, she had to get someone else to do it. In my case, it was the head of human resources (HR). She talked me through the new contract and indicated the importance of independent legal advice. Again, due to Cathy being my wife and the business having connections to nearly every attorney in the town, they suggested I get my advice from a firm outside of our location. Julie, the HR manager, gave me the business card of an employment attorney who she knew could help me. I took all the papers and left her office.

I phoned the attorney immediately after lunch. I emailed the new contract and it was agreed we would have a meeting in their office in two weeks. That would be the Monday before the listing on the Friday. That was technically after the final document was filed with Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) saying I had signed, but what the hell, there was no way I wasn't signing the contract.

The weekend before the listing, we had a big family party in the Johnston's house. It was at the party that I learned two things. First, Mr. Johnston still retained all the family stock. I had been under the impression it was held in trust for the children, but no. Secondly, the party for the listing was flying to New York on Wednesday, on a private jet owned by the VC and that I was not invited. That was an unpleasant shock. It meant Cathy and Mr. Shark would be in a social setting with lots of adrenaline and alcohol, and I would not be there.

What was worse, was that it was clearly planned by Cathy. The little voice in the back of the head said, "Oh-oh, that should not be on the agenda."

It was obvious from the look Cathy gave her father that I was not meant to know at this stage. The whole thing was starting to look like a stitch-up.

I said nothing, but I didn't have to. I made my feelings perfectly clear to Cathy by the stare I gave her.

We arrived home that night around eight o'clock. I had driven to allow Cathy to have a drink. I had barely spoken to her since her father had made the announcement about the trip. She tried to initiate a conversation in the car, but I refused to engage.

Once home, I parked the car and walked into the house without a word. Cathy was slow getting out, as she had several things to bring in. When she arrived into the kitchen, I was sitting at the table and announced, "Cathy, sit down, I think we need to talk."

She visibly paled, then went to put her stuff on one of the kitchen worktops, before sitting in front of me, but clearly unable to look at me.

"Tell me," I began, "what is this about? You are going to New York for a party with the existing shareholders. Your mother is going with your dad, your sister is going with her husband and your brother is going with his wife, and they don't work in the business. But I'm not invited? Why hadn't you told me this little tidbit of information, especially considering your announcement not two weeks ago, about starting a family on that night. Something feels really fishy about this, and I want to know about it... now!"

Cathy was chewing her lip, a clear sign she was trying to conceal part of the truth. "I need you to stay here..."

"Bullshit!" I exclaimed. "You're hiding something and I want to know what it is."

"Okay. Okay," Cathy whispered. "I really didn't want to go into detail until Tuesday, but since you already have part of the story, I better tell you all of it. As you know, dad is holding onto the shares until the listing. He is then putting the funds from the sale into trust, where it will be invested and we will all receive an income. The funds will be protected for the grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He wants to make sure the family is provided for, for generations to come. That means we don't get the big windfall I was hoping for so we could retire early. So, I have done a deal with Ken."

I thought back and realised Ken was Mr. Shark.

She continued, "If you remember back to the first meeting, Ken agreed that we could use the company advisors. That saved us two-point-five million in fees, and he agreed I could get that amount as a consultancy fee, as long as I agreed to sleep with him on the night of the listing."

So there it was-- the fear that I had all along. This guy was a shark, but he was not in my fish pond-- my wife had willingly agreed to get into his, for money.

She saw the darkness coming over my face, so she proceeded quickly, "We also agreed on the deputy CEO so that you and I would have the financial security and the time to have a family. When I come back on Sunday, we can do all those things we planned, with time and financial security at our backs. By this time next year, we will be nursing our firstborn." She said this last part with a happy face.

It was then I realised she was living in a fantasy world.

"You are going to fuck another man for money-- that's prostitution, pure and simple. If you think I'm going to put up with that, you have another thing coming," I almost shouted. The only reason it didn't come out as a shout was because so much spittle came out of my mouth with the words.

The happy smile on Cathy's face dissolved into something much darker. "Prostitute!" exploded out of her mouth. "How dare you! I am doing something for you, me and our family-- to provide us with independent financial security. We invest this right, we can even retire in a couple of years. Yet, you act like a child, you're probably going to tell me I have cooties next!"

I laughed a humourless, possibly even malevolent laugh. Then I picked up my phone, and typed 'cootie' into the search engine. I repeated what it came back with. "Cooties are an imaginary germ or disease that can be caught by touching someone who is disliked."

I then asked the search engine for the definition of prostitute. "On the other hand, the definition of prostitute is a person who engages in sexual activity for money. Now tell me, do you have an imaginary disease or are you going to engage in sexual activity for money? I'll answer that-- it's the latter. So no, you don't have cooties, but you are turning yourself into a prostitute."

Cathy jumped out of her chair, standing with both hands on the table and leaning over me, she shouted, "I am doing this for us, can't you see that! If I don't do it, where will I find the time to have children, where will I find the time to be a good mother and a good wife? Tell me!"

I didn't look up at her, I just replied, while looking at the table, "If you do this, there won't be a family; if you do this, you won't be a good wife, you will be a prostitute and a divorcée."

I finally looked up at her, and said, "So one of three things is going to happen-- one, either we both go to this function, and I verify you are not cheating on me. From there, we go to counselling to work out how we put our marriage back together. Two, you don't go at all and we start discussing the trust issues I now have, and how we ensure this never happens again. Or three, you go on your own and I am not here when you get back. Which one is it?"

I could see red flaring on Cathy's neck from sheer anger, and she said, "None of the above. I will be going, and when I return on Sunday, we will start the process of having a baby. You forget, not only will I fight tooth-and-nail to keep our marriage together, but you have signed a new employment contract stopping you leaving your employment. So you have no choice but to stay."

I think my laugh caught her by surprise, when I added, "What new contract? You forget I had to get legal advice from outside the area because of our marriage. Net result is, I am meeting the attorney tomorrow. Naturally enough, I won't be signing any contract."

Her face visibly paled. It was then, I realised my contract had nothing to do with the listing, it was a backstop for this little tirade she was planning.

I continued, "So, I can assure you, if you leave without me, I won't be here when you get back. If you either take me or stay at home, there will be no children any time soon; you have a lot of work to do to rebuild my faith and trust in you and our marriage before I even contemplate children. Do I make myself clear?"

Cathy stood upright, the anger was still flaring on her face, but I could tell the adrenaline that had fueled the early party of the argument had stopped, and she was looking for an escape from me.

She just announced, "Arney, this is our future. One night and we have everything set for life. I will not let you destroy that future because of your ego. It's happening and you will be here when I get back. Don't fight me on this because you will lose and lose big. And I can see the question on your face-- yes, my father knows and he agrees that ultimately our own financial independence will be good for us. So put your ego on hold, and in a year you'll be a father."

With that, she turned and left the kitchen. I knew she was going to do it because she actually believed what she had just said. Time to plan my escape.

I sat at the kitchen table for a while, just staring at the table. I had no idea how long I sat there. All I wanted was to clear my head of every thought and every image of her lying on his bed, while he brought her to a climax. I needed it all to play out and disappear; I needed the anger of this to subside so I could act rationally. Leaving her was a given, divorce was essential, but getting a divorce in this town in which her father had influence could be very difficult if she fought it. I also needed a new job and that meant a new location. How far would I have to go?

I let the questions play in my head, but didn't look for answers. They would come as the anger faded and the pain kicked in. I started humming an Oasis song as I went up to one of the spare rooms to sleep. Locking the door behind me. Cathy had already gone to the master bedroom and closed the door. That suited me just fine.

I didn't go to work the next morning. I had the day off to visit the attorney on my new employment contract. I decided to go to the appointment, for two reasons. One, the long drive would give me time to think, and two, if I didn't go, the attorney would notify Johnston's HR department and that would tip my hand to Cathy and her father. If I went, they would think I was still intending to sign it and Cathy would have her two-year window that she obviously felt she needed to get me to forget her infidelity.

The whole day, and especially the drive, proved cathartic. The day started with coffee, sitting in the same seat in the kitchen, as I had used for the confrontation last night. Cathy came into the kitchen, poured herself coffee and put a bagel in the toaster.

Looking directly at me, she asked, "What are your plans for today?"

I didn't look at her. I was scared that if I looked at her, I would just see something ugly. I needed to keep my emotions under control if I was going to control the anger. I flatly said, "Going to Carson to meet the employment law attorney. I'll be away all day."

I didn't need to look because I could tell from the tone of her voice she was smiling. She thought she had won me over to her way of thinking. I suspected she thought I wasn't looking her in the eye because I was deferring to her as the dominant one, while in reality, I wasn't looking at her because if I did, I might completely lose it with her and I did not want that. I wanted this to play out and if it ended my marriage, so be it.

I spent the entire drive, singing to every song on the radio. By the time I arrived, I was actually in a good mood. The meeting with the attorney lasted two hours, and there were a few interesting points in the contract. Not only did the contract specify I had to stay for twenty-four months with the company, but during that time, I was required to remain at the same address, retain the same cell number and was effectively at the beck and call of the company CEO, which was, of course, my wife.