Merl and Heide

Merl and Heide

The following is inspired by Odiouser's recent tale, "

Can You Cheat In An Open Marriage

," about a man who learns his wife is a very-highly paid and popular prostitute and has been for quite some time.

He never ended the story and invited readers to provide a possible ending.

This is the result.

Many thanks to Odiouser for giving me permission to write this sequel to his story.

I also want to extend thanks to those who offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories.

For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen.

At least on paper...

Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc.

(Yes, I DO moderate comments)

And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...

...

Ending of "Can You Cheat In An Open Marriage":

I had to reluctantly admit to myself that I still loved her and maybe always will. But does she truly love me? I realized that I don't even know what 'Love' really is. I do understand that the overpowering sexual component of marriage is clearly separate from all the other feelings two people have for each other. But I think it takes both to make a real marriage.

If she were to tell me she wanted to stay happily married but that her sex had to be reserved only for paying clientele and the occasional Spencer or Rudolf, then, of course, we would be done for. Even it she was a world class chef and conversationalist; I wouldn't call that a marriage.

Or turn that around. Would I willingly leave and divorce her if I was guaranteed a free pass to frequent sex with her? I don't think so. Yeah, I would want the free pass, call it a Platinum membership card for Rye Balled, but then I would want to hook up with a new woman for the many other things of a married life. I do not want to come home every evening to an empty home. That's not even a home. God, what a deep thinker I can be.

One thing was starting to clear up through the haze. We cannot go on like this, with her leading the life she is and me pretending to be clueless. If we have any chance of surviving, we absolutely have to get her out her current employment.

I honestly think I could maybe tolerate her getting way more sex than I was, but my ego would not allow me to live within the community knowing I was a cuckold to the loosest woman in town. Sorry to be so thin-skinned and fragile.

SO, she would have to agree to quit the job and lifestyle but I am almost sure she wouldn't. I equally doubt she would agree to moving far away from here and starting over. I finally drifted off to sleep.

...

And now, my conclusion: "Merl and Heide"

I woke up to the smell of breakfast wafting up from the kitchen. I got up, did my morning business, showered, shaved, dressed and went downstairs where Heide was finishing up. I grabbed a cup of coffee, gave her a kiss good morning and sat down. She had fixed us each a very nice Denver omelet with bacon and toast, just the way I liked it.

It was hard for me to reconcile the sweet woman lovingly making breakfast with what I knew about her. I thanked her for the food and dug in. It was delicious, as always. After I finished, I put my plate in the sink and sat back down at the table and looked at her. She stopped eating long enough to look back.

"Is everything alright, sweetie?" she asked. Showtime, I thought. It was either now or never.

"We need to talk, Heide," I said in an even tone of voice. She took a couple more bites of her food, then tossed the rest down the disposal and rinsed off her plate. She walked back to the table and grabbed her purse. "I'm serious," I said, pressing the issue. "We need to have a talk about things."

"You're right," she said. "But not right now. I have things I need to get done and I have to get going. Meredith is expecting me this morning." She started for the front door.

"Dammit, woman," I said, getting irate. "This is our marriage we're talking about. Is Meredith more important than our marriage?" She stopped and turned to look back at me.

"Look, sweetie," she said. "I know that you think it's important that we talk, but right now I have things I HAVE to get done. I'll be late getting home tonight, but if you're still up, we'll talk then, okay? I gotta go. Love you." With that, she turned back and strode out before I could even respond.

"Yeah, me too," I said as the door closed. I sat there, stunned. Did she not even care about our marriage anymore? Apparently not. Hell, we haven't even had a marriage in what, two years? Try two-and-a-half years -- ever since she started working at Rye Balled.

I headed on into work and tried to get through the day, but it wasn't easy. My secretary popped her head in a few times to see if I was still alive and functioning. At lunchtime, I had had enough and decided to call it quits for the time being. I felt like I had to talk to someone about this mess, but who?

Then it hit me -- my sister, Leanne, was an attorney. If anyone could help me sort this out, it would be her. I called her office and was put right through.

"Hey there, little brother," Leanne said when she answered the phone. Leanne was about three years older than me and one of the wisest people I knew. Next to my dad, of course.

"Do you have a few minutes?" I asked. "I need to talk to someone."

"Bad enough that you need to talk to your big sister?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"I take it this is personal and confidential?" she countered.

"Unfortunately, yeah," I said.

"Okay," she said after a few moments. "Come on over. I'll cancel my appointments this afternoon. We'll get to the bottom of whatever's going on."

"Thanks, Leanne, I really appreciate this," I said. I left the office, telling my secretary I would be gone for the rest of the day and possibly the next. I headed to Leanne's office and was escorted right in. Leanne looked up from her desk when I walked in. She got up, came around and gave me a sisterly hug, then escorted me to a couch she had in her office.

"No offense, Merl, but you look like hell," she said. "What's going on? Is it Heide?"

"Yeah," I told her. "And it's driving me nuts."

"Tell me all about it," she said. Leanne listened as I told her my story, how I found out about Heide working at Rye Balled, about the expensive coin and necklace she bought with her earnings, about her affairs with Spencer and Rudy -- everything.

"So, you're telling me that Heide, your wife of 16 years, is this 'Flaming Red' and she's kept all of this away from you all this time?" Leanne asked. I nodded my head.

"Yeah," I said quietly. Leanne regarded me for a few moments before speaking.

"And you don't know what you should do?" she asked.

"Something like that," I said. The next thing I knew, she slapped me on the back of the head. I looked at her, shocked.

"God dammit," she exclaimed. "Your wife is a fucking prostitute and you don't know what you should do? Look, you're my little brother and I love you, so take this in the spirit it's intended. Were you born stupid, or did you go to school to get that way?" I looked at Leanne, surprised. She had always been very direct but she had never spoken to me like this before.

"Consider this a wake-up call, little brother," she said. "Prostitution is illegal in this state. There's no telling what else she's into. And, you say she's earned a lot of money doing this. Do you know if she's reported any of her earnings to the IRS?" I shook my head.

"No idea," I said. "I know she hasn't mentioned any of it to me in the last two years. According to the manager over at Rye Balled, they set her up as a business contractor. 'Customer Perquisites, LLC,' or something like that. He said they haven't been withholding any taxes and he thinks she may have set up a business tax ID so she wouldn't be using her social security number."

"And you haven't confronted her about any of this?" she asked.

"I tried to talk to her about it this morning, but she said she had stuff to do and left," I said.

"Alright," she said. "Here's what I'll do for you. I don't do family law, but I know several attorneys in town who do. I'll call one right now and see if we can get you in for a consultation this afternoon. I'll go with you."

"Thanks, Leanne," I said.

"You're welcome, little brother," she said as she pulled out her phone. I sipped on my coffee as she talked on the phone. A couple minutes later, she came back to the couch.

"You're in luck," she said. "I spoke with Wilbur Jennings. He's the best in the business, at least in this town. He's got a slot open for us, and he's bringing in a private investigator. If we leave now, we can get there just in time. He's within walking distance, so we don't even need to fight for parking. C'mon," she added as she put her jacket on. I followed her out the door. About a half hour later, we were in the reception area of his business office.

"Leanne," Wilbur said as he stood up and offered his hand. He looked to be in his fifties, well-built with just a touch of gray at his temples. "Long time no see. Is this your brother?"

"Yes, Wilbur," she said. "This is Merl." Wilbur and I shook hands and he turned to another man in the room..

"This is John Williams, a private investigator I like to use," Wilbur said, introducing us to a short, stocky, plain-looking man in a somewhat rumpled suit. We all shook hands and sat down.

"So, I understand you have a domestic issue," Wilbur said. "Tell me all about it and let's see what we can do." I relayed everything to Wilbur just as I did with Leanne. I wondered how many more times I would have to tell this story. Wilbur and John made notes as I talked and I saw them looking at each other a few times.

"So, your wife, Heide, is this 'Flaming Red' who works at Rye Balled?" Wilbur asked.

"Yes," I said.

"You're positive about that?" he asked.

"Absolutely," I told him. "I even spoke to the club manager. Is that a problem?" Wilbur sat back in his chair and glanced at John before speaking.

"I'm going to be brutally honest with you, son," he said. "As much as I'd like to take your case, and your money, the fact is, I can't. There could be a... conflict of interest."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Are you representing her?"

"No, I'm not," he said. "But I have, er, taken advantage of her services a few times."

"You mean, you've had sex with her," Leanne said. I felt sick to my stomach as he nodded his head.

"Yes," he said. "I'm sorry, son. I'm single and, well, you know... Again, I'm sorry. I didn't know she was married, and I've never seen her wear any rings. Truth is, Merl, she's probably serviced most of the male divorce lawyers in the city, and probably in the county. Along with a few judges, the mayor as you already know, and a state senator or two. Hell, word is, she's even been with the governor once or twice."

"I thought prostitution is illegal in this state," I said.

"It is," he told me. "There was no direct exchange of cash, and she referred to her work as 'stress counseling.' I know it's a very fine line, but that's the way it was."

"So, what can I expect if I decide to divorce her?" I asked. He shrugged his shoulders.

"I can summarize your situation in two words," he said. "You're screwed. First off, this is a no-fault state. You can't even mention adultery in the divorce. Even if you could, it wouldn't matter since you've already said you agreed to an open marriage from the beginning. Second, this is a community property state, meaning you'll have to split everything with her -- your bank account, savings, the house, retirement plans, everything. You have no children, so naturally there won't be any child support. But you may be required to pay alimony."

"Alimony?" I asked. "Hell, she's already made more in two and a half years than I've made my entire life. Why would I have to pay alimony."

"Do you have anything showing what she's made?" Wilbur asked. "A Form 1099? Anything?"

"No," I said. "Nothing like that."

"Well, there you go," he said. "On top of all that, she could hire a top gun, rack up all kinds of legal bills and get the court to make you pay for it. There's a number of things she can do to slow you down. Counseling, for example. The bottom line is you have no real proof you can offer in court."

"So, what do I do?" I asked.

"Well, I suppose you could just leave," he said. "Don't tell her where you are. Don't communicate anything. Just go somewhere and let her stew for a while. Maybe she'll use some of her money to hire an investigator to track you down and file for divorce herself."

"I can't do that," I said. "I have a job here, clients here. And I'm not one to run."

"I've got an idea," John said. We all turned to look at him.

"What's that?" Leanne asked.

"Why don't I tail her for a bit?" he asked. "Let me and my crew see what we can come up with. I still have some friends over in the Vice Squad and I know they've been very interested in Rye Balled for a while now. From what I've been told, that place has been quite good at avoiding the law. Seems they have a way of knowing when the undercover cops will be there. But they don't know me or anyone who works for me. Maybe we can help Vice shut this place down."

"How long would you need to do this?" Leanne asked.

"Maybe a couple weeks, tops," John said. "That is, if you're up to paying my fees," he added, looking at me. I thought about it for a bit, and made my decision. It would be expensive, but I had to have something.

"Sure," I said. "Let's do it." I had been saving money for another cruise, but with all this, I decided to hell with the cruise.

"Good," he said, handing me a card. He opened a briefcase and gave me a form to fill out and sign. I did, and handed him a check for a retainer. "Just let me know who you're going to have represent you and I'll make sure to forward a copy of my report."

"Look, Merl, I'm sorry I can't do more for you," Wilbur said, extending a hand.

"You've helped," I said, shaking his hand. "Thanks for your time." Leanne and I stood up to leave. She looked at Wilbur before speaking.

"If I were you, Wilbur, I'd stay out of that place from now on," she said. "You and I both know what's going on there, and I'd hate to see you in trouble with the State Bar." He nodded his head.

"Point taken, counselor," he said. We left and walked back to her office.

"Merl," Leanne began when we got back. "I know this has been hard on you, and it's only going to get harder. I know another attorney we can talk to, but she's away on vacation with her husband in Europe and she won't be back for another two weeks. Let's see what John can dig up and when Lisa gets back, I'll call her."

"Okay," I said.

"In the meantime, you need to get your head out of your ass," she said. "Dig deeper, see if you can find tax forms, anything. Try to maintain calm when you're around her. I know it won't be easy. You already know she's a bald-faced liar, so take whatever she says with a grain of salt. Don't go after her lovers, either. I don't want to have to bail your sorry ass out of jail. Got it?"

"I got it," I said.

"Good," she said. "If things get too bad, call us. Ron and I have a spare room you can stay in for a few days if you feel you have to. And remember, this will get taken care of. One way or another."

"Thanks, Leanne," I said. "I appreciate everything you've done for me." She smiled and gave me a hug.

"You're welcome," she said. I left her office and drove on home, determined to find what I could. I figured I had several hours since it was highly unlikely I'd see Heide before midnight, if her recent schedule was any indication.

I began looking deeper, even going up into the attic. I was somewhat surprised when I saw a fairly new box, the type used in offices for papers and files and such. I opened it up and saw several file folders. A few of them contained smaller envelopes that held DVDs. I had a pretty good idea what was on them, but I grabbed a few anyway so I could review them.

I also saw something else. Tax forms -- 1099s, filled-out 1040s and various forms dealing with self-employment and so on. I looked, and sure enough, the 1099s were made out to " Customer Perquisites, LLC." According to the forms, she had earned nearly $1.5 million in one year. The next year, she made somewhere north of $2 million. Damn, I thought. She had to do a lot of fucking to make that kind of money. But where did it all go? There was no way it all went for an old coin and a necklace.

I looked deeper and found a recent statement from Fidelity Bank Ltd., in the Cayman Islands. According to this, she had just over $4,000,000 in her account. Damn. I couldn't help but think she intended to use this as her "escape" fund. But there was more.

Another folder contained what looked like a contract between her and something called "Rye Balled Productions." As I read, it became clear what this was -- Heide was more than just a dancer and a high-priced prostitute -- she was a porno star, with a contract to perform in ten feature-length movies. In for a penny, in for a pound, I figured. No wonder she was always gone. I kept looking...

One folder held medical forms and bills from about 14 years ago. According to this, Heide had gone down for a D&C. I new what that was -- an abortion. She also had a tubal ligation done to prevent further pregnancies. Now I knew why we didn't have any children. According to this, she paid cash for the whole thing, which is why I never saw a bill or anything on a benefit statement.

Was she screwing around on me back then, too? I remembered some of the playful banter we once shared after my first out-of-town business trip.

"I hope you didn't ball every guy in the club," I said when she told me she had gone to Rye Balled while I was gone. That was early in our marriage.

"No, silly, just a few of the guys and none of them were even worth the bother. None at all," she said in a teasing tone of voice. I remembered she gave me similar sarcastic remarks on subsequent trips. Eventually, I simply quit asking. Now, it seems, the sordid truth is out.

And there was more. I found calendars dating back 14 years. There were entries on a number of dates and I realized these were days I was out of town on business. The entries included dollar amounts, much like what I saw on the calendars in the kitchen drawer. Some of the dollar amounts were staggering.

There were other notations. "S" showed up on several dates, and I wondered if those were references to my so-called "friend," Spencer. Some dates were marked with "R" and I suspected those were days she had been with Rudy. I realized of course, those could have represented anyone.

There were other markings on other dates, but I had no way of putting them into context. I saw dates marked with "M," and figured those were the days we had sex. I couldn't help but notice that several dates had multiple notations, like "M" and "R," for example. I nearly got sick thinking that maybe she had been with me after having sex with another man.

Behind the calendars I found a small ledger with entries, what appeared to be an accounting book. It looked as though she started this after 2019, which explained why I saw nothing beyond that date on the calendar I found in the kitchen. There were entries for "personalized consulting" and even larger entries for "royalties," which appeared about once every three months. I didn't take the time to add them all up, but it looked to me like she could have easily grossed a couple million dollars in just one year.