Backstory: Picking up on previous accounts of Luther "The Root" Casey, it's the late 1970's and our well-hung hero is a college student at a large Midwestern university. He plays bass and spreads his considerable goodwill among the ladies. Per usual, this is a work of fiction and all characters are of legal age.
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Midway through his junior year, Lute quit the rock and roll band he'd played with since starting college. The lead singer and two other band members wanted to record an album and go out on tour. Lute didn't share their ambitions for the band, nor did he want to quit school to go on the road, so they amicably parted ways.
Lute had enjoyed being in the group. The music had been fun, his band mates had become his good friends, and he'd met lots of fine ladies anxious to share his bed - or the back of his van. But he was now ready to focus more on playing stand-up bass and jazz. And given that he was already a solid player, he was soon recruited to join a jazz trio with two other talented guys from the university's music school. Their trio was quite good, and they started getting gigs at cocktail parties and other more staid affairs - quite a change from the crowded bars Lute was accustomed to playing. And it was at one such party where our story begins.
Max and Alexandra Richter were major donors to the university. In fact, the music school's new recital hall bore their name. Lute first met the Richters at their namesake venue when his trio was part of a weekend jazz festival held there. The Richters introduced themselves backstage, complimented the group on their fine performance, and suggested they play at an upcoming party they'd be hosting. Their assistant followed up later to offer the trio a handsome fee and seal the deal.
It was a cold, clear night in February when the trio arrived at the Richter's beautiful home. The house was sited on some wooded acreage in an exclusive area on the outskirts of town. It was a large modern brick structure with huge windows all around. And with its sleek interior layout and furniture, you could see why it had been featured in Architectural Digest magazine. The trio set up around the grand piano in one corner of the large main room with its 20 foot ceilings.
The house was just one of several the Richters owned, and it was often used for hosting university social events, even when the Richters weren't in town. Dr. Maximillian Richter was a German who had emigrated to the US to attend grad school at the university. He earned a PhD and then went on to make a considerable fortune in biotechnology. He was now a distinguished older gentleman in his eighties, while his wife, Alexandra, was a striking beauty, more than thirty years his junior - about Lute's mom's age - tall with long brown hair and a statuesque figure.
With their piano, bass and drums, the trio provided background music for the gathering of well-heeled sophisticates and academics. The guest-of-honor was a friend of Max's - a professor in European history who had just published a new book.
When the trio took a short break before their last set, Dr. Richter motioned for Lute to join him in the library. After showing Lute a few of his treasured first edition books, he took him by the arm and made his pitch, his clipped accent adding a bit of theater to the moment.
"I'm going off to bed as soon as we can get rid of this rowdy crowd," he said with a chuckle, "Howeffer, my wife is a night owl, and I would appreciate it if you could, as they say, keep her company tonight. Would you be agreeable to such an arrangement, Luther?"
Surprised, though clear on what he was suggesting, Lute nodded, "Yes, I'd be glad to keep Mrs. Richter company this evening."
"Excellent. We both will be very grateful," Dr. Richter enthused. Then, their deal closed, he moved on to other matters as he escorted Lute out of the room, "Now, I'd luff to hear you fellows play some Count Basie."
Lute rejoined the band for their final set, and with a nod to their host, they started out with Basie's "Lady Be Good". As they played, Lute scanned the room. When he saw Mrs. Richter in a classy v-neck sweater that accentuated her ample decolletage, he knew they'd have a good time together. And when the two made eye contact, she gave him a sly "See you later" wink before she returned to her hostess role, expertly working the crowd, laughing and making small talk.
When the music ended and the guests had been escorted out, Vera, the Richter's prim and efficient assistant, approached Lute while he finished packing up his bass.
Speaking in a discrete and professional tone, she consulted her watch as she said, "Mrs. Richter will be expecting you to join her in the guest house at 11. It's just beyond the pool." Then slipping an envelope into his jacket pocket, she went on, "Mrs. Richter can be, um, somewhat... 'insatiable'... if she enjoys a particular companion. So, if she invites you to stay the night, there will be another envelope delivered to you with breakfast. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Also, from what we've learned, you have, an, um, let's call it, a 'particular quality', that Mrs. Richter appreciates. But there's one additional asset that Mr. Richter and I want to be assured you also possess."
"And what would that be?" Lute asked with a curious smile.
"Discretion."
"Ah, yes. Well, discretion is my middle name," Lute offered.
"Right. However, your middle name is Henry," she said with a slight grin, "But, Mr. Casey, I trust you and know that any private dealings you have with the Richters will remain confidential. Now, Dirk will show you where to park your van. And once you've done that, come into the kitchen for a bite to eat before you join Mrs. Richter."
"Sounds like a plan," Lute said with a light chuckle.
"Yes, it's a plan. Well now, thank you, Mr. Casey. I hope you have a wonderful evening." And with that, Vera was off to attend to the caterers.
Lute had met Dirk when he first arrived at the Richters. He was a tall, sturdy no-nonsense Germanic-looking fellow whom Lute presumed was the Richter's all-around guy: driver, bodyguard, valet, fixer, etc. Dirk opened the garage for Lute to park his Ford Econoline alongside a black Mercedes sedan and a bright red Porsche 911 Turbo. After Lute pulled in, Dirk slid a piece of carpet under the van's engine compartment to catch any dripping fluids that might mar the garage's pristine floor. Which, Lute observed, was a wise move, given the van's leaky head gasket.
After instructing Lute on the layout of the property and how to enter the garage when he was ready to leave, Dirk led him into the large well-appointed kitchen where the Richter's cook, a friendly Japanese woman named Toshiko, served him a steaming bowl of ramen with shrimp.
"Shrimp good for libido!" Toshiko whispered as she seated him on a stool at the far end of the counter. "Eat all...you gonna' need it!" she added with a friendly laugh.
Feeling like a stallion being prepped for stud service, Lute slurped down the tasty soup. And when he remembered the envelope Vera had slipped into his jacket, he was surprised to find five crisp 100 dollar bills.
Though a bit sheepish about the "cock for hire" role he was now playing, Lute put the money back in his pocket and decided he'd go along for now, though he wasn't sure he'd still be there to get his second installment at breakfast. However, since Mrs. Richter was a stone cold fox, he expected she could be very persuasive.
