If you dislike characters that aren't purely good or evil, and if reading about cheating ruins your day, well – this isn't for you.
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I, Gabriella Warden, grew up in a borderline dysfunctional family. My father Vince was big and tough, a starting middle linebacker three years at a Division I school who might have made it in the pros but for a knee injury in his team's Orange Bowl game his senior year. Although he had the demeanor of a linebacker he is also smart and became a trial attorney, specializing in employment law – on the side of employees.
My mother Gina is a petite beautiful woman with little self-confidence. How she and my dad ever got together, no one has any idea. She seems paralyzed when she has to make a decision of any significance whereas my father has no problem making decisions although since he often shoots from the hip his "batting average" isn't that great.
I never noticed any "real love" exchanged between my parents. I know that they liked having kids –to bask in their children's accomplishments – but we were never bathed in love either.
While Gina is afraid of her shadow, Vince isn't afraid of anything. Also, he instilled a "kick-ass" attitude in me and my two brothers. He was especially concerned about me since I was only of average size and considered "really cute" in view of what he knew about sexual harassment from his profession. He had me taking Brazilian ju-jitsu classes from five years old to sixteen, and taught me his own version of dirty self-defense.
While I had lots of issues with my dad growing up, there were times that I loved having him in my corner. One instance occurred when I was in fourth grade, average size for my age. On a Wednesday the middle school bully, a big fat sixth grade boy named Wendell (of all things – maybe he became a bully because of his name) pushed me down on the playground, soiling and ripping my dress. As he and two of his friends laughed at me and threatened me with more harm I jumped to my feet without using my hands (something I practiced in ju-jitsu classes all of the time) and had kicked him in the balls before the smile left his face. As he bent over I grabbed the back of his head, and pushed his face down into contact with my upwardly moving knee, spurting blood all over the place, including on his two buddies – who made themselves scare.
As Wendell lay crying and bleeding on the tarmac, the playground monitor came over and scolded me. I told her that I was just defending myself. She called the school nurse to tend to Wendell while she took me to the principal's office. My scared mother picked me up from school when I was suspended. While she simply wrung her hands when my dad got home from work and I quickly told him the story knowing that his reaction would be much different than that of my mother. He congratulated me (as did my brothers) and gave me a rare big hug. Then he called the principal at home that night. I have no idea how he got the principal's home phone number. When the principal would not immediately rescind the suspension my father was in court the next day. Thursday, and got an emergency hearing scheduled for the day after, Friday.
My father subpoenaed the principal, superintendent of the school district, Wendell, Wendell's father, the playground monitor, and the school nurse. None of them were pleased to have to come to court the Friday before a three day weekend, and they were even less pleased when the judge was sympathetic to my dad's arguments. The attorney that the school system sent to the hearing was a newbie and my dad ate him alive. When the judge saw the difference in size between Wendell and me (he had me by almost a foot in height and 100 pounds in body weight), when I testified and showed my soiled and torn dress, and when Wendell came off as a total jerk and the bully that he was when he testified, the judge immediately reinstated me in school and fined the school district $500.
After the hearing the superintendent apologized to me, and my dad told him to use the $500 to hire another playground monitor for the next month. Wendell's dad – who was a big fat slob, just like Wendell was – came up to my dad in a hostile manner after the hearing saying something about how Vince had humiliated his kid. My dad grabbed his hand and pretended that he was shaking it, and with a smile on his face. In fact my dad crushed Wendell's dad's hand so hard that tears formed in his eyes. Only I was close enough to hear what Vince said to the fat ass: "If you don't shut your fucking mouth, and if your little brat ever touches my girl again, I'm going to put you in intensive care and then sue you for everything you've got. Understand asshole – nod your head if you do."
He nodded his head, and slinked off with his son, who still had cotton stuffed in his nose, holding his crushed hand with the other one.
Needless to say, no one ever fucked with me at school ever again; at least not until High School – but that's another story and you get the picture just from the middle school situation I described.
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I don't know whether it was because of, or in spite of, my kick-ass attitude, or if it had to do with the fact that I was always training diligently for one sport or another, but I was a virgin when I married Jason Grimes shortly after we graduated from college. As do many women who are virgins when they marry, I thought that sex during marriage would immediately be everything that it was made out to be in the Western media, which seems to be pre-occupied with orgasms. I didn't realize that it took interest, a high level of compatibility, experience, and even work, to become fully sexually satisfied. Therefore I was grossly disappointed during the first several months of my marriage to Jason that I wasn't experiencing the sexual nirvana that I had been promised by the female members of my acquaintance and the film and print industries in the United States. The few orgasms that I had were mild – no better than with a dildo.
It took getting drunk for the first time in my life, and confiding in Delilah, my most outrageous female friend, to be set straight. She gave me a lecture on compatibility, work, and experience. Delilah also demanded that I make Jason give me oral sex, and ordered me to "learn to suck cock." I didn't take her up on her offer to have her boyfriend eat and shag me a couple of times to know what I was missing, but I decided that I needed to at least be more pro-active.
Unfortunately, Jason was not really on board with my pro-active stance, and while he did eat me a couple of times it was clear that he didn't enjoy it, and he also wasn't really that interested in me sucking his cock.
While our sex life was, at least to me, blah, our professional lives weren't. Jason and I both got pretty good jobs right out of college. My first one lasted only a year, however, when John Tipton, a vice-president of the company, sexually harassed me on a business trip. Like the bully Wendell he got kicked in the balls, but I spared him getting his face smashed with my knee; however he walked gingerly the rest of the trip, and took a different plane home than I did. When I got back to work I was called into the CEO's office and told that I was fired. He didn't expect my response.
"Listen dip shit, you can't fire me because I quit this fucking pig sty. Your VP John Tipton sexually harassed me, so he should be the one fired but I don't expect that from you oinkers. What is going to happen, however, is that you're going to give me two month's severance and a glowing job recommendation – which I have earned with my work. If you don't agree to that by tomorrow, my father will have you in court by the end of the week. Here's his card – look him up in Martindale and Hubbell, and on Goggle." With that I tossed a business card of Vince Warden, attorney at law, onto the CEO's desk, cleaned out my desk, went and told the director of HR the situation, and cleared out.
The next afternoon I called the CEO's office. His secretary put me right through. "There's no reason to have bad feelings, Gabriella," he opened up the conversation in a perfectly pleasant voice. "I was too precipitous in firing you. After talking to your supervisor and HR I know that you're a valuable member of our team, and I want you to come back to work, and I assure you that no one will ever harass you again."
"Sorry, dude, I'm done with your organization. All you need to tell me is if I'm getting two month's severance and a glowing recommendation. I've already talked to Vince, and he's foaming at the mouth," I harshly responded.
After another couple of minutes of ass-kissing by the CEO, he assured me that he'd have my check hand-delivered tomorrow, along with a recommendation letter authored by my supervisor and signed by him as CEO. I thanked him and hung up. He was too scared not to be true to his word. The next job that I got – within six weeks – was much better than my first one.
My second job, with a large multi-national company, had significant chances for advancement, and I was offered a substantial promotion after being there only sixteen months.
I talked over my possible promotion, and what it meant, extensively with Jason. I was happy in my present job, and while I would likely be happier – and certainly would find it more rewarding, both for my ego and pocketbook – with the promotion I didn't want to destroy my marriage in the process. I didn't want the bordering on dysfunctional family life I had come from as my own, especially if we had kids once I turned thirty (which was my present plan).
