This is a work of fiction. None of it is true - well, there are cities named Wichita, Danville, and Lima but the ones described in this story are made up, nothing factual. I have no idea who the mayor of Wichita might be - the person called mayor of Wichita is not that mayor.
If I failed to make my point, this story is 100% fiction. There is no sex between fictional people in this story, until they are 18. Said sex is not described in any detail in the story, sorry.
This is the first of two unrelated tales about wealth and how people use it. The tales are not connected in any way. In this one, the money belongs to the best friend of the betrayed.
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Money - His
I guess everyone dreams of coming home in a private jet, to be met by the town as a conquering hero. I am living that dream. I was born and raised in Wichita, Kansas. A little over three years ago I moved to Danville, California to seek my fortune developing my concept for AI.
I made it work, sold it for $2 Billion, retained the manufacturing rights, and was in the process of starting a company in my hometown. My best friend, Will Wheat is sitting across from me. I flew him out to California, to help me start planning the new operation.
Will and his wife Bobbi still live in Wichita, we have known one another for 26 years, our whole lives. Bobbi and Will married right out of high school, both work; she as a hairdresser, and he as an electrician. For the past two years Will has been burning the candle at both ends. Working a full-time job as an electrician and opening his own company.
When I hit it big, I thought of Will, immediately, he knows the town, has incredible drive, and has been my friend since we were in grade school. He was at first reluctant, but when I told him I'd pay a quarter mill annually, plus bonuses, he was on the next flight.
There are four of us on the flight. Rocky Doyle and Stu Johnson, handymen/bodyguards, Will, and me, Dave Thomas. I had it on good authority that as a billionaire I was target of kidnapping, extortion, and who knew what and that these two were good at many things, principally protection. So, they were on the payroll.
I am still a single man, though I will say when you have a big bulge in your pants, created by a money roll, companionship is a relatively easy matter. I don't want to malign the women with whom I spend my time. They are not trying to latch onto my money, they are not gold-diggers, they are mostly like me, unattached, looking for some fun for a very limited period, and anxious to get back to whatever it is they go back to.
When we landed we were greeted by about 100 people, more or less. They included, Bobbi, her parents, Will's parents, my parents, the mayor, the city council, some reporters or blogsters, and many others (why they were here? who knows.) Bobbi was all over Will; I mean all over him. Though it had been but two weeks, it was like she'd not seen him in a year, and he'd been in combat.
The mayor was warm, friendly, and totally disingenuous - a typical politician. I told him we would initially be hiring about 300 people, most of them local. We would grow to about 1,000, over a period of a year, to 18 months. Will, my operations chief, would be in charge.
Who wants to live like this?
It was a mad house. Fortunately, once people knew Will was the guy, the mob shifted toward him and his very affectionate wife. I talked to the six parents trying to tell them what to expect.
"I'm going to be staying with Mom and Dad, while Rocky and Stu are finding a place for us to work. I introduced the six parents to the two assistants. It was fascinating to watch. Stu talked in some detail with the moms, while Rocky talked to the dads. I didn't pay close attention, but my guys were learning who these people were, and assessing - what they needed to know to keep us all safe.
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"It's nice to be home." I just plopped down on the couch - my spot when I lived there with Mom and Dad.
"I'm sure it's not what you're used to now. Pretty basic." Mom looked apologetic.
I looked at Dad. "I love it here. But I do have a bunch of money. You want to live somewhere else, you tell me, and it will be done. But don't do it for me. I love this home."
Dad smiled and nodded. I took that to mean he would discuss it privately and then let me know. I wondered if he thought Mom might be interested in a move. Close families are a wonderful thing. We didn't spend two minutes talking about my patents or my money, we just were family doing what families do.
Mom got up to make supper. Not dinner, those are more formal, supper is the family evening meal. She said, "Meatloaf." I knew the rest of the menu. I had been eating high-end food; you never get meatloaf, and it's a shame.
"While your mom is in the kitchen, I need to tell you something." While he spoke, in a hushed tone, he sat beside me. "I think Bobbi has been having an affair."
"Holy shit, Pop. Really?"
"Well, between Betty (my mother) and me, we know a lot of folks. They talk to us. Over the last six months Bobbi has been seen a couple of times, here and there with Freddy Tipton."
"I assume you mean the younger one. The son of Tipton Motors, Freddy."
"That's him. And I can tell you that apple didn't fall far from the tree. He is known to offer unique after-sale opportunities to many of his women clients. What am I saying? He doesn't make them buy a car to get serviced."
"Is it public knowledge?"
Dad quickly shook his head, "No, I'm sure not. No one has really seen anything, but we have heard enough to suspect."
"This will destroy Will." I nearly mumbled.
"You must tell him, or I will." Dad did not want me to equivocate.
"Pop, calm down. Of course I am going to tell him. But I don't want to go off half-cocked."
I sat and thought for a minute. My father was about to explode. "Okay, Pop, here is the deal. All of a sudden, Will is worth a lot of money. When he hears Bobbi is slutting around he'll sue for divorce and she'll have gotten rich being a whore. I want her to get nothing."
"You're fucking right about that."
"My, my, Pop, don't hold back." I smiled, foul language and my father were close acquaintances, if not life-long friends. "Let's keep this between you and me, for now. I am going out on the front porch and call Rocky. He'll let me know what needs to be done and how long it will take."
I got up and went out the front door. I hit "Rocky" in favorites.
"Yeah, Dave, what's up."
"Say, Rocky, my dad just told me Bobbi is fucking around on Will, with a car salesman, Freddy Tipton."
"Well, that offers me several opportunities. Which would you like me to choose?"
"First, I want to know whether it is true, what exactly is going on. All discreet for now. Will is not going to tolerate infidelity and I don't want him raped in a divorce."
"It's done."
"How long will it take?"
"Give me two days."
"Rock, that's not much time."
"Doesn't take much. I'll spend a couple hours seeing when I can speak to Freddy, then sit down with him and have a chat."
"Rocky! What if he tells her?"
"Oh, we'll chat about that. I'm sure he'll take our conversation to the grave or take to the grave over his indiscretion. By the way, that was just a joke. Let me assure you. I never do anything even marginally illegal. I will swear in court you ordered me to never break the law and so, I didn't."
That sent a chill down my spine. He was obviously giving me plausible deniability while assuring me Freddy would cooperate, fully. I walked back in. Pop was sitting in his recliner. "Two days."
"Two days, for what?" he asked.
