Emily and I
Yes I trust you.
The hour plus drive four or five times a week sucked, but being with Jane and the girls was worth the trip. I started getting hugs and cheek kisses when the girls or I would leave. Unless I left at 06:30 hrs, just before the girls got up.
We discussed ways to eliminate the drive but hadn't hit on a solution until the girls moved on to college. Jane bought me a Toyota with a four cylinder engine to ease the cost of gas back and forth to Austin. She wanted to get me a new one; I negotiated a three year old one. It was red though.
After her divorce, Emily insisted that her sister live with her and their girls. The Ranch House was remolded to accommodate Jane's suite. Her UT salary pretty much just sat in the credit union earning interest for the last seven years.
I drove the '66 up one weekend and all three of the girls were wild about it. The rebuilt six cylinder engine ran perfectly once I installed the right air correction jets in the new Weber carburetor. I promised to bring it back after I installed the headliner.
My lover and I took the Raspberry convertible down to the coast several weekends when the girls were with their dad. She negotiated a 102 square inch bikini with a paro wrap. Shy at first, the warm sands of the coast finally got her over most of her uneasiness about her shapely body. We studied poses on the internet and soon she was almost as flirty and sexy as Patty.
Getting her to pose without her top was easier than talking her into a bikini in the first place. We made love and had sex on the beach one night, she cried. Life was more than she had expected. She missed her sister, but loved her nieces and her man, me.
I never drove the Raspberry Candy Mustang to Austin.
The Auction
A few weeks after the concert, the Jessica Wright Academy held their annual fund raiser. The auction was held in the inflatable arena. This inflated domeish thing was about the size of a small soccer field. Traffic volume was crazy enough that we had to park three blocks away. The roving school shuttle bus to the campus was nearly full when we got on.
Inside the arena were decorations of all sorts. Around the interior walls were the individual silent auctions which included student works and donated prizes.
Jane and Evonne, another orchestra mom that I had met earlier, got together on the silent auction. Jane bought Evonne's daughters donation, a home cooked spaghetti dinner complete with violin music.
Evonne bought Connie and Janice's Italian dinner and string/flute music. It cost Jane and Evonne each seventy five dollars but they both said it was worth it. I think I was looking forward to that evening.
A local senior high school's string quartet and jazz ensemble provided live music at two different venues in the arena. They were good.
Jane had a white wine and I had a vodka tonic with a lime twist. By the time we had gotten to the other end of the arena our drinks got refilled at the second bar. Public school was never like this.
Finger food, lots of finger food, was located near the bars. Jane and I had made several trips that afternoon with her Cadillac full of fruit plates from the deli to the auction.
The highlight of the evening was the class projects live auction. The 4th grade patch work quilt with a hand print of each student went for fifteen hundred dollars to a grandma. Several other primary grades class projects went for almost as much.
One of the group dinners went for over two thousand dollars. Another was on a yacht and went for almost as much.
I'd slipped into the rest room for a few minutes near the end of the live auction. I was sitting on the commode, just getting some quiet time and I heard two guys enter and use the urinals that were right next to my private office.
1st Guy. "Hey. A great auction! Looks like a full house. Maybe they won't be hitting us up for more money this year. I see Jane has a new beau. Have you met him?"
2nd guy "No, haven't met him yet, but I'm sure my wife will see to that before the evenings out. Yeah I hope she has better luck with this one than the last fag. I hope she didn't catch anything from that ass fucker. I felt sorry for her.. and loosing her sister like that to."
1st guy. Yeah, she was quite the little blow job queen. I knew her when she was at TW. Her and a couple other sluts blew about 20 guys many a night at some frat parties. They would get drunk and take on all comers in one of the upstairs bedrooms. They wouldn't fuck, but they sure could suck a golf ball through a garden hose.
I have a friend that swears that every fourth Thursday she'd come in to his office, drops her skirt, kneel in front of his chair. Then she would run a baby wipe over his dick and three minutes later he would shoot'n into her mouth.
She never swallowed, but damn! She'd clean his dick with the wippie , smile and take his order. This had been going on for the last three years. He said that he's gonna miss her."
2nd guy, "Yeah, well, if I was Alex I'd tap Jane and leave that vindictive bitch Samantha alone. I knew her in Atlanta and she hasn't changed a bit. Too much family money."
1st guy "Well I guess he's been doing Sam for the last 5 years, maybe longer. I don't imagine it'll take her too long to move into Alex's house and kick Jane out."
2nd guy. "He'd be stupid to do that. He's got it good now. Jane takes really good care of the kids and he's free to fuck that bitch in Haiti. I hope Alex would be smart enough to keep her out of his house. Plus he'd have to hire someone to do Jane's job. I don't think Samantha has a domestic gene in her DNA."
They left and I had an ear full. I caught up with Jane and Evonne at the bar. Evonne's husband, Charles, was introduced to me. He was one of the two guys in the men's room. I identified him as guy #2. He was the one that suggested that Alex tap Jane and leave the bitch alone. I played it cool, no reaction. I never told Jane that I knew who the source of my information was.
Nor did I tell Jane that I had found almost a case of nylons ( a five years supply?) and a Costco sized box of individually wrapped wippies in the trunk of her POS company car the day that I planted the GPS in the trunk.
Those must have been the tools of her trade. The cost of doing business and looking good. Like anyone there are different sides of a individual's personality. I guess I didn't know the complete Emily. I wondered what else I didn't know.
The next day the girls were doing combat with Iron Mike. That is what I called the Lob-Ster (The electric tennis ball serving machine.) We were in the den watching and I told Jane that I had overheard some men's room talk and it was about her and Emily.
Jane, "Oh? What about me?"