"Fuck, fuck, fuck" Bobby Peterson thought, when he woke up in jail. "It wasn't supposed to be like this at all. It was just going to be some mutual playing. No one was supposed to get pissed."
...
He couldn't believe it. His boss was hitting on him! And she was hot, especially for her age, and richer than shit. Bobby saw an opportunity, and flirted back. When she called him in to her office at quitting time that day, his dick shot straight out. But nothing happened except some pretty blatant flirting and a few light touches. But he was patient.
She flirted a little harder as the weeks went by, taking him into her office, stroking him lightly over his slacks while they kissed. He ran his hand under her dress, and she pushed towards him. He had just slid her panties to the side, planning to finger her to a frenzy before fucking the hell out of her. It went to pieces when one of the secretaries came back into the office to pick up her umbrella. Good thing her office door was closed. Rose pulled back, straightening her dress and suggesting it may in their best interests to leave. He could go first, and she'd close the office in thirty minutes or so. He gave her a kiss and a grope on the way out, making her nipples shoot straight out.
He grinned on the way home. He'd own that bitch before long. Rose complained about the travel, and the increased workload brought on by the new office. Maybe she should take on an assistant, him for instance, look at the money they would save on motel bills if they slept together, something he'd make sure of.
Bobby had a plan. His father had never given him the respect he was due, calling him lazy, unimaginative, always looking for the path of least resistance. Hell, he'd even fired him, just for using the petty cash to pay for lunch. Of course he used it almost every day for a year before he got caught. Almost twenty-five hundred. Well, he did like to eat in the more upscale places. He tried to justify it as a business expense, but no one bought it. Dad gave him a choice. Repay the money, or leave. He left.
Wait until he weans Rose Barton away from her husband, and replaces him in her bed and her life. And her money. That would make him pay attention.
Sure the bitch was over twenty years older, but she was still pretty hot, and more importantly, pretty rich. In five years or so the old bitch will slow down, and he'd find a little playmate. Or two. She might even go along with it to give her a chance to rest.
When he controlled the money, he'd shove it up his Dad's ass, make him know he had it in him the whole time. Show him, by God!
It all came apart when his cunt of a wife got suspicious. Even being dumb as a stump, she had that woman thing going, and she kept digging until she found their emails. That's when he turned on the charm, telling her he was just doing it for them, that he didn't even like the bitch, and the thought of crawling between her legs made his skin crawl. It took a few weeks, but she was coming around. In fact, he suggested she seek out a sugar daddy, it couldn't hurt, and maybe she could get a bundle. Between them, they would get the seed money to open their own business. She could be his secretary, that was what she was going to community college for, before he plucked her out and married her.
How was he supposed to know she would pick out Charley Barton to try to seduce? When he reacted badly, she started sobbing and spilled the whole scheme, including the detail that the next week Rose was taking Bobby with her to visit her out of state offices. She fucked everything up! When she came home that night and told him she'd talked to Charley to get verification that he was all right with the open marriage/wife swap plan.
Charley told her the truth, and Amanda had decided to leave him. They argued while Bobby drank steadily. He knew he was toast, he definitely wouldn't have a job by Monday, and probably wouldn't to get work in the community again. His father would ridicule him once again, and he knew no help would be forthcoming. He was screwed.
And then there was the stupid cow Amanda, telling him she'd own his balls before the divorce was over. He finally lost it, slapping her to shut her up. Maybe he did hit her a little too hard, but it made her stop. She even left, leaving him in peace. He went back to his bottle of gin, racking his clouded mind to figure out he'd come out on top when the smoke cleared. Maybe he'd ask good ol' Charley for a donation, to assure the truth never got out. Yeah, that might work.
Two hours later someone was pounding on the door. Goddammit, didn't they know it was the middle of the fucking night?
"Goddammit! Amanda, just get the fuck away from me, before I go to your ass again! I'll fuck you..." His drunken brain finally processed the fact that it wasn't Amanda, but two cops. And the male cop was huge.
"Robert Petersen?"
"Yeah. What you want? It's the middle of the night and I'm..."
That's all he got out before they had him on the ground cuffing him.
"Robert Petersen, you are under arrest for assault on Amanda Petersen. You have the right to..."
The woman cop went through the whole thing, but Bobby didn't hear it. The bitch was having her arrested? It was just a tap.
"Now hold on a minute here! It was a just a slap, things got out of hand when we argued. I didn't hurt her. I bet that motherfucker Barton put her up to this. Is it my fault the old impotent fucker can't satisfy his wife? Jesus, I hadn't even fucked her yet."
"Mr. Petersen, I remind you again of your rights. Anything you say can be used against you at trial. We've got body cams, so everything you do and say is being recorded. It would be in your best interests to remain silent."
Something it that woman cop's eyes got through to him. She looked pissed, really pissed. He clammed up, and didn't say a word all the way through processing and being escorted to his cell.
His mood darkened even more when he was told he couldn't get bail for at least forty-eight hours, the standard cooling period in domestic cases. Swallowing his pride, the next morning he called his father. After telling him what happened, he had to endure him laughing for a few minutes, before he told him he'd start the paperwork, pay his bond, and get him a lawyer, only after Bobby committed to paying him back.
By the time he got out, Amanda had removed any evidence of her ever living in the apartment. The bitch had just disappeared and no one knew where she was. Well, her lawyer knew, that cunt had been waiting outside the jail, and had him served there. Amanda was on medical leave from her job until her face healed, and they couldn't or wouldn't tell him anything. His lawyer told him he was looking at jail time unless he could get her to agree to drop the charges.
He saw Charley Barton on the street a few days later. They were both headed to lunch, at the same diner. He watched as every waitress in the place fawned over Charley. He snagged his waitress. "What do I need to do to get service like that?"
The waitress looked down at his hand on her arm, and he quickly released it. She gave him a big fake smile. "Well, you could not be a wife beater for one. If you want what Charley gets, better morph into a man who everyone respects, and try tipping better." She said it loud enough that every one in her section heard it, and they all laughed. He was about to light into the waitress when the owner came over.
"Enjoying your burger, Bobby?"
Finally, a kind face! "Yeah, it's great. Thanks."
The owner smiled, as she looked down at him. "You're welcome. Now, if I were you, I'd chew slowly and enjoy every bite, because it will be the last you ever eat here. When you leave, don't ever come back. You're banned, as long as I own this place. I was married once, to a scumbag like you. I don't need you around as a reminder of bad times."
This time the laughter was loud, and he went pale he was so angry. Fuck them! Fuck them all! He'd show them. There will come a day when they wished they'd treated him better.
He looked over to see Charley sitting there, looking at him with a little half smile on his face. He had just about decided to go over and knock that smirk off the old man's face when two female cops, one city, one county, walked in and straight to his table. The county mounty took her big hat off and laid it on the table, then bent over and kissed his cheek. The city cop did the same thing, on the other cheek. The lunch crowd grinned, used to seeing it, and always laughing when Charley flamed red.
They sat, and the county cop looked over at him, the smile dying on her face. It was the cunt who'd arrested him, and here she was smooching Charley. Talk about collusion! She said something to the city officer, and she turned and gave him an icy stare. Then she went back to her meal, pausing every once in a while to tease Charley. When they left, they left their checks on the table, and Charley paid for all, leaving a very nice tip.
Bobby ate his meal slowly, out of spite. He left no tip, but the waitress grinned and wished him a nice day. As soon as he was outside he saw it. The big yellow boot was as clear as day. Then he noticed the fire hydrant, five feet from his front tire. Damn it, had that thing always been there? He picked the ticket off the windshield, and walked to city hall. A hundred and thirty-eight dollars, and it would be four o'clock before the guy could show up and remove the boot! Fuck.
He had to walk back to the office. Surprisingly, Rose hadn't fired him yet. Then again, no one had seen her for almost three weeks. They assumed she was working at one of the out of state offices. He kept his mouth shut and his head down, trying to do the best job he could, hoping he might get a fair reference when the hammer fell.
Nobody said anything at the office, and it was business as usual for two weeks. Then the whispers started. No one wanted to make eye contact, interactions became brief and hurried. He felt like screaming at them. This wasn't his fault!
Bobby, even if he didn't know it, was a sociopath.
His over inflated sense of self worth made him tailor his past to meet his projected future. Only if he was backed into a corner over his lies and actions would he even come close to telling the truth. Once he was caught, he would turn on the charm, deflecting everything away from his actions, then start lying again.
Despite his disintegrating relationship with his father and the uncertainty of his employment, he refused to let go of the belief that somehow he would emerge from the situation triumphantly. He was just about to doze off when it him. Faith!
She had flirted with him lightly years ago when she would visit her mothers' office on college breaks. He would seduce her, talk her into marriage. That would show them for sure, having to sit in the church while they exchanged vows would be perfect.
Feeling good for the first time in weeks, he went to sleep. The next morning, it all came back. Faith was a tempting target. She was almost smoking hot, a prettier version of her mother, with Charley's height and high cheekbones. Every single man around had courted her, but none could get her to commit. She turned all down, saying she wasn't looking for a relationship right now, and wanted to make sure her business got off to a good start.
Her business did indeed get off to a good start, thanks to her extended family. The vet they had used for years had become a bit senile, yet refused to give up his practice. Animals started dying, legal complaints were filed. Forced to pay increasing insurance premiums, lawyers, and fines, he had no choice but to close his practice.
Faith, her three assistants, and the older vet who worked part time, were swamped. Deciding she needed more help, she advertised in the trade magazines for another associate, and ended up hiring two, a man and wife team.
The woman had worked as a staff vet at a zoo, and soon they were treating zebras, llamas, and an assortment of other privately owned exotic animals. It enhanced their reputation and their workload.
Faith and the older vet also made rounds to the local farms, for the births of horses and cattle, and other things that didn't require office visits. In two years, her business was booming and she had just about saturated her market. She thought about following in her parents' footsteps and opening other clinics, but she knew if she did she'd end up administrating instead of practicing, and she didn't go to veterinarian school to be an administrator.
