Chapter 1

Well, here it is. An overwhelming number of readers asked for a write-up of how I met my lovely bride and how she ended up going into business. While this is only the first half of that tale, you’ll find the hints, which after we met I only began to recognize, of the latter. Whether we write the second mainly depends on time; we are exceedingly busy, hence it taking me this long to write this account. I apologize as it’s a lot longer than my initial submission. I tried, but every time I wanted to reduce detail, my wife insisted on keeping it. And, even worse, pulled ever more nuances from me. It’s her fault.

Disclaimers up front. First, per my standard, I’ve changed all names and locations to protect the guilty. Where noted, I’ve kept as much detail as I felt comfortable adding. I’m sure you can understand.

And second, my wife had a huge hand in developing this account. Originally, I planned to only focus on our time together. It would’ve been short and sweet. However, after reading the first draft, it was her idea to include everything else that happened to me during that time. And I mean everything.

Perceptive little interrogator that she is, she’d asked numerous questions about what was going on while I was away from her. And, as I reviewed this before submitting, I hope you’ll agree; adding in the other encounters provides good context to my feelings back then. Even though I’d been in business for almost ten years, I was still a rookie. In life, as well. As you’ll read, I dealt with a number of conflicting emotions I hadn’t even recognized—within both myself and clients.

Third. Karen and I went back and forth about adding in what happened from her point of view. In the end, we agreed to stick with how things transpired from mine alone. What she’d like you to know is that she remembers everything with me as if it was yesterday. And, frankly, her memory is much better; she’s done an amazing job of correcting and including stuff I’d forgotten. And also, as I noted above, pulling all the gory minutiae from the dusty bins of my brain. So, we all owe her a debt of thanks. For a lot of things.

Oh, and my wife picked the name “Karen.” She finds those memes hilarious. So don’t blame me if you think of her each time you watch some “completely not my wife at all” complain before asking to see a manager.

“No!” I spat out before spinning around to sit at my table.

Which was a fucking stupid thing for me to say, really. Since my heart still hammered after shaking the hand of an amazingly gorgeous young woman. Petite, with long, dark hair blowing across her toned, bare shoulders, shiny dark eyes, and a spray of freckles over her regal nose and cheeks, she was shorter than her lanky boyfriend.

And, Jesus, did she possess an impressive rack. And I mean—wow. Such a full, proud chest on such a small frame. Dressed in skintight pencil jeans and shiny black heels, she ignored my outburst and held my gaze. In the breeze, the just barely translucent material of a brownish-orange, peasant-style top showed off her cleavage. It hung loose from the tips of her shoulders and was short; when she moved, her tight stomach muscles flicked into view.

After another glimpse at “Sean,” at least that’s what he’d said his name was, I returned to “Karen.” Shoulders straight and twinkling eyes locked on mine; it was clear this meeting was her suggestion.

But she was small—too small. And, quivering, Sean was still pale as a sheet. Dressed in tan Dockers, and a pastel yellow polo shirt under a buff sweater tied loosely around his neck, he was the picture of yuppie. With his lips pursed, he attempted to sweep his unsteady fingers through a shock of light-brown hair caught in another gust. With a muttered curse, he missed and tried again. Since I’d shaken his hand, he hadn’t stopped trembling. As opposed to Karen, whose dainty fingers had held me tight when I’d stood to greet them.

With a long sigh, I shook my head and started to stand. It was beyond clear; they weren’t on the same page. And, as much as I needed the money, I tried to help couples. Not break them apart.

Just then, another warm Texas summer breeze kicked up and ruffled the red and white striped canopy. Hands splayed on the black metal table, I paused to look along the languid river. Long, dangling strands of Spanish moss swayed in the thick trees overlooking the riverside café district. Though I couldn’t afford more than a coffee, I’d picked the restaurant, hoping to impress them. With me in school and my usual clientele moving further away, times had become lean. While not quite desperate, I was looking for local clients.

“Please.” Karen’s large doe eyes blinked as loose tresses floated around her taut, corded neck.

After a lengthy sigh, I pursed my lips before pulling out a chair for her. Each echoing click clack of her heels on the Mexican terrazzo tiles sent shocks through my spine. This was an awful idea. She caught me watching her cross her long legs as I lowered into my chair and flashed a tight grin.

As I look back, rational Tommy shouldn’t have sat. He should’ve stuck to his guns and walked away. There would’ve been other clients. Except ... Well, as Karen settled next to me, the edges of her blouse ruffling in the wind and showing off her taut belly, my heart continued to pound. Not with nervousness at meeting new people. Heck no; I’d become quite comfortable since returning to the States and leaving the Army to pursue my newfound career.

No. There was something about Karen that intrigued me. A lot. From her delicate flowery perfume to the slow rise and fall of her chest—everything about her captivated me. Which, let’s face it—this was to be a business relationship—was another very good damned reason to leave. All the while, as her gleaming dark eyes bored into me, her boyfriend’s unblinking gaze was locked on her. As he settled into a chair across from us, it was obvious she was in charge. It was only much later that Karen revealed everything had been his idea.

Fuck it. Fuck rational Tommy. I mean ... Well, my car, an ‘86 Pontiac Grand Am, had a broken engine mount. Like a dumbass, I’d been racing through a mall parking lot at night and hit a drainage dip going way too fast. So rational Tommy nodded; I needed the money.

“Fine.” As I spoke, I waved my hand to get the server’s attention.

While they ordered drinks, I inspected them both. All the while, Karen gave me sidelong glances, but Sean kept averting his eyes. This was so wrong. For what I did, it was a bad vibe. And, while they couldn’t be expected to understand, I damned sure knew better.

However, a couple I serviced referred them to me. Tammy, the wife, had caught Sean’s eye at a private swinger party. While they never said how they were invited, Karen and Sean had been overly nervous and it was evident to Tammy this was their first lifestyle experience. After sitting with Tammy and her husband, Don, watching the other couples and chatting, Tammy had suggested me. She never explained why she’d thought of me and I was happy for the business, so I hadn’t asked. Obviously, now that I’d met Karen and Sean, I should’ve gone back to Tammy and inquired. But I never did. Swinging is one thing; what I did was quite another.

After talking on into the evening, Sean and Karen turned down the couple’s offer to play for free and left with my number. And so now they were sitting with me. Not for free. After scratching my head, I took another tiny sip. I was nursing my coffee—it was good, but expensive. While letting out a long exhale, I leaned back in my chair.