Chapter 10

The only reason I returned to work was my prior commitments to my clients. I was still angry enough to spit nails at the sanctimonious little so-and-so’s who had believed I had been insensitive about my wife’s happiness. Mama must have spread the word. They avoided me, couldn’t even look me in the eye, unless they had to ask something related to salon business.

Mama finally cornered me in the back room. If she had prefaced her remarks with “We have to talk”, I swear I would have punched her lights out.

“I didn’t know,” she opened instead, her own eyes filled with tears. “She told us it was a game you two played, that you were totally cool with it.”

“It was a game we played in private, just the two of us, in our own home,” I corrected. “Then she hooked up with Brock and the whole thing went sideways. Now everyone believes the romance is real and that they will be announcing their engagement any day. Honestly? I can’t tell them any different.”

“Alexis and I have talked,” my mother continued calmly. “There were other factors; things that were not on the recording...”

“Yeah, I know,” I interrupted. “The whole story. Seriously? Are you still buying in to that crap? Are you still taking her side in this? ‘Oh, wow, it’s Alexis. She’s my idol. She must be right in all of this’.”

“NO!” Mama barked. “I’m only saying this is more complicated than it appears. According to what she told me, and I believe her, this isn’t the way it was supposed to happen. No, I didn’t know about her and Brock and how long it had been going on. She didn’t tell anyone. I won’t try to justify what she did. I will only say I have been there myself; used by a man I foolishly believed in. I have had my own dealings with Brock Maitland and never allowed him to get as close as she did because of my experience; experience Alexis didn’t have. Baby, beyond that beautiful, put-together exterior, she is me twenty-four years ago. I will let her tell you her side of things if you will listen. Just know she is every bit as devastated about how this is turning out as you are, as I am.”

“Of course she is,” I spat. “She got caught. Of course, whatever happens, she will land on her feet, and likely come up smelling like a rose. So will you. So will everyone else - except me. I am the one in legal limbo in all of this; no longer ‘Michael’, but not yet ‘Brandi’. But for my financial independence, I would already be destroyed by all of this.”

“You said she didn’t have experience. What about those boys she was with before me?”

“We talked about that, too,” Mama confirmed. “The operative word here is ‘boys’. They used her, just as your sperm donor used me. They didn’t play her, the way Brock did. He has had years to perfect his technique.

“Elizabeth called me. You haven’t been back to see her and you are not taking her calls.”

“Given the circumstances,” I observed, “I didn’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Your surgery is in two weeks,” Mama bleated plaintively. “You can’t tell me, after all you have been through, that you don’t want to go through with it now. Elizabeth wants to see us; just the two of us this time. She said there have been new developments.”

“Yeah, she probably wants to drop my case,” I speculated. “That really would be the icing on the cake.”

“Just go with me, please?” Mama implored. “Let her tell you, whatever it is.”

That was how we found ourselves back in Elizabeth Masters’ office. After we were seated, she went to the trouble of stepping out from behind her desk, crossing the office and shutting the door before returning to her seat. She sat pensively for a moment, aligning and re-aligning a single file folder on her desk with her fingertips. Then she spoke.

“I had a visitor yesterday,” she began in a concise, conversational tone. “The Corporation Counsel for a multi-billion-dollar, multinational conglomerate, which shall remain nameless, flew in from New York to see me. I had never met the man before, but I knew him by reputation. I also happen to know he plays racquetball with the Attorney General of the United States. So, when he uttered phrases like ‘professional malfeasance’ and ‘medical malpractice’ in the same sentence with the name of this clinic, I can assure you he had my undivided attention. Also, he handed me a notarized request from a very prestigious private surgical clinic in Paris for your medical records and assured me a court order for same could be secured if necessary. I don’t have to be a rocket scientist to see where this is heading.

“I have always, and always will, stand by our standards of care for all our patients, including you, Brandi. The decisions we made, and the treatment we have rendered on your behalf, were carried out with the utmost degree of professionalism and without outside influence. However, in light of new information which you brought to our attention, I can see how others might interpret our motives in this case to be ... suspect.

“Brandi, I realize this puts you in a difficult position, but let me ask you this; ignoring any outside considerations or influences, is this transition something you wanted?”

“Yes,” I replied without hesitation.

“Are you having, or have you had at any time in the last five and a half months, second thoughts?”

I had to think about that one for a moment. I remembered how happy D’Arcy and I had been in the beginning, and how that happiness had seemed to multiply a thousand fold after her transformation. Then I remembered she had already been Brock’s play toy by then, and how our seemingly-idyllic relationship had been rapidly self-destructing ever since. Still...

“No, I answered confidently, reaching out for my mother’s hand. “This is the ‘me’ I have always envisioned myself to be. You can call it ‘Gender Dysphoria’ or wishful thinking or whatever, but this ‘me’ makes me feel good about myself. You asked me to disallow outside considerations and influences. I think we all know how impossible that is in these circumstances. Still, even if they hadn’t been present in my life, I would have made this journey to be true to myself.”

The doctor nodded her head thoughtfully.

“Here is what we are prepared to do,” she went on, absently tapping the folder before her with the tip of her pen. “We will fulfill our commitment to you in the treatments and procedures you have contracted with us to perform. From this moment on, we will waive any and all fees involved with those treatments or procedures. We will not ask you to sign a separate non-disclosure agreement regarding this unfortunate incident, as we feel both you and this clinic are already adequately covered by the verbiage of the contract you have already signed. We are acting in good faith here, Brandi, and we hope you will do the same.

“We have never, in the history of this clinic, had a stain on our reputation such as this incident could conceivably cost us. Even that pales in comparison to the emotional trauma you have endured. Despite what we have just discussed, I, personally, can see where you could feel within your rights to pursue legal action. I sincerely hope you won’t. I’m trying to mend fences here, Brandi.

“I think your mother and I are going to step out. We will go down to the café, have a cup of tea and catch up on current events. We should be gone thirty minutes or so. While we are gone, I hope you will contemplate the olive branch I am extending to you. If you would like to join us later, feel free.”

With that, Elizabeth and Mama rose and exited the office, closing the door behind them. I sat there a moment, pondering her last words. Olive branch? What was that all about? I looked around the office absently – then my eyes settled on her desktop. The file folder was still there. What had they written about me? Had she included any personal notes, insights about me?

Curiosity killed the cat.

It wouldn’t hurt to take just a little peek, would it? I reached over and turned the folder towards me. To my surprise, it wasn’t my case file.

Maitland, Brock

iPhone. Camera. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click...

God himself could not have restrained TMZ from dropping this bombshell. Alexis Morrell is already married – to another man! The image of a marriage license, showing D’Arcy Alexis Morrell had been the wife of Michael Carlyle Bennett for more than two years, was displayed prominently under the banner headline. Side-by-side photos of husband and wife had been embedded within the text of the scathing exposé. Further, it was confirmed that Michael Bennett had, for most of that time, been employed at Maitland and Associates. Efforts had been made to contact Mr. Bennett, but he had left the company and hadn’t been seen in six months. Reporters had tracked the erstwhile Mrs. Bennett to her townhouse residence, seeking her reaction to the allegations, only to be rebuffed with a terse “No Comment”.

Police were opening an investigation into Michael Bennett’s disappearance.

The hits just kept on coming! The very next day, a new report, complete with photocopied medical reports, broke: Brock Maitland’s muscular physique had been, in no small part, the result of ‘juicing’ anabolic steroids since he was fifteen years old. While his muscle mass was impressive, so were the side effects. His testicles had shrunken to the size of grapes. He was clinically sterile and subject to frequent near-psychotic outbursts; “Roid Rage”. His teeth had loosened and fallen out, to the point they had to be replaced en masse with dental implants. His reputedly large male member was the product of a next-generation penile implant which he had to pump up manually. The X-rays of it, both flaccid and fully erect, had been conclusive. Without it, according to the medical findings, he was not able to achieve erection at all.

Brock himself had stormed the Twitterverse to categorically deny all allegations. Further, he had threatened to sue “unnamed medical facilities” for breach of confidentiality and defamation of character. The Law of Unintended Consequences was not kind to him. His tweets invited an even greater tempest of counter-allegations of groping, sexual assault, Sodomy, alienation of affection, aggravated battery and more, filed by two dozen women, each linked at one time or another to the besieged financier. The alienation of affection charges had been leveled by aggrieved husbands of six of the women. Each claimed Maitland had been aware the woman was married, and had aggressively pursued the seduction with the intent to break up the marriage.

The famously hatchet-hearted host of a hugely-popular sports talk show on ESPN had stepped up next. Citing a leaked internal NFL document, he revealed Brock Maitland had, in fact, attended the NFL combine in the spring of his senior year. At the time, evidence of ‘juicing’ was not considered detrimental to a prospect’s potential. In fact, the opposite was true. It had been an alleged impropriety with a billionaire team owner’s trophy wife during that week that got the college sensation booted from the combine and black-balled throughout the league.

In what was widely regarded as a desperate attempt to regain the publicity initiative, Brock Maitland called a press conference and went on camera with Alexis Morrell, reiterating his denial of all the spurious rumors.

“Ms. Morrell left her husband when he confessed to her he was seeking a sex change,” the embattled business magnet avowed. “We kept that story quiet while the legal process ran its course. I am pleased to announce their divorce is now final, and the love of my life has agreed to become my wife.”

In a now-famous video sequence that set records after being posted to You Tube, the suddenly-horrified brunette had slapped her companion soundly across the face and uttered a totally-uncharacteristic “Take a hike, Buddy” before storming off-camera, alone.

The Chrétien Group had stunned everyone by withdrawing its investment portfolio from Maitland and Associates, citing loss of confidence. Senior investment and media analysts alike had labeled the move precipitous. Other investment and corporate CEO’s had been guilty of their own personal peccadillos in the past, without having a significant effect on their companies’ bottom lines.

The Chrétien Group’s renowned market prescience was born out twenty-four hours later from an entirely different and unexpected source. Respected financial reporters from both Forbes and Bloomberg, citing unnamed sources, revealed the SEC was quietly launching an investigation of alleged insider trading at Maitland, in regard to their recent spectacular success with Genesee Industries stock.

Then came the coup de grace. It began as a rumor on Twitter and spread like wildfire; the existence of a digital video clip, purporting to show Brock Maitland and Alexis Morrell conspiring to do away with Ms. Morrell’s husband in the furtherance of their illicit affair and to gain control of his extensive financial holdings. The video itself could not be found anywhere online, yet the existence of a ‘teaser’ audio excerpt, featuring a now-familiar voice, took on mythic proportions that would not go away.

“Seriously? You cut off his balls?”

Police investigators had expressed keen interest in tracking down the source of the excerpt and original rumor to confirm or refute their authenticity.

The crack opened by Chrétien and widened by those two august financial news services, then blown apart by the dark rumors of the video clip, brought forth a deluge of panic sell-offs. The catastrophic, overnight collapse of Maitland was compared to that of Lehman Brothers and Bear Stearns by the financial cognoscenti at their favored Manhattan watering holes. A domino effect, leading to another 2008-style ‘market re-alignment’, seemed imminent. At the peak of industry anguish, a white knight stepped in; none other than Chrétien Group itself. They scooped up the flailing firm at fire sale prices. Their first order of business was to restore investor confidence which, with the Chrétien name on the marquee and the conglomerate’s investment portfolio restored and expanded, was a given.

Brock Maitland disappeared. It was alleged he had embezzled the remains of the company’s operating funds when he left. Unnamed sources within the company revealed his own net worth had evaporated with that of his clients. His fabled penthouse condo was said to have become the in-town retreat for Chrétien’s CEO during his frequent visits to monitor the performance of his newest acquisition.

Despite confirmation the voice on the ‘teaser’ was that of the fugitive financier, Police had found no evidence the source video actually existed. Nor could they find evidence of foul play in the disappearance of Mr. Bennett. His mother, a well-known local hair stylist, denied her son had had any untoward sexual tendencies. According to her, he had been utterly devoted to his wife – and utterly devastated by the recent turn of events. No, she hadn’t heard from him, but hoped with all her heart he was well and happy, wherever he was. Based on her testimony and lack of evidence to the contrary, it was hypothesized Bennett had become so despondent over his wife’s very public affair with his employer, he quit his job and left town, leaving no contact information.