Chapter 1

TODAY

It was hard to believe four and a half years had passed. It felt like ten. A lot of water had gone under the bridge. My life's path had taken an unexpected detour. I hadn't found my way back to the original freeway. I poured myself another drink. I think it was only the third so far today. I put in the DVD. That went almost back to the beginning of my detour.

It came up to speed. I watched the opening, mesmerized, even though I knew it by heart, as I knew every second of the next three hours. I watched the opening visual, the mountains, the moving image, coming in over Reno, the shot getting tighter, closing in on the new hotel, dissolving into a shot of the auditorium, closing in until the octagon filled the big screen. The arena and the octagon were empty, except for the king sized bed. Six feet by seven feet -- they call that a California King -- with a light blue pillow top mattress. The title superimposed on the screen, as the excited voice of a play by play style sportscaster read the title, drawing out the words until they took nearly twenty seconds to say:

"UNUSUAL SPORTS"

"PRESENTS"

"OCTAGON: STRIP AND SCREW"

The title dissolved, and the credits scrolled up the screen. The producer, the director, a few other names, followed by the stars.

GLORIA IRENE

And

ROY ROYAL

I'd been using Gloria Irene almost exclusively, ever since I began my detour through the seamy side of life. The voice over continued,

"CAN THIS MAN,"

With video of Roy walking down the aisle and into the Octagon,

"STRIP THIS WOMAN,"

"TOTALLY NAKED,"

As video of me walking down the opposite aisle and into the octagon played,

"AND SCREW HER"

"ON THIS BED,"

As the shot cut to the big blue bed,

"IN SIXTEEN MINUTES OR LESS,"

As the camera pulled away from the bed, panned over the auditorium, now filled with cheering spectators, up the wall, across the ceiling, and closed in on big red numerals over the bed reading 16:00.

TODAY

My name is Robyn. I'm a single gal. I'm single, never been married, with no children. I've had several relationships from a few weeks to almost six months, but I'm not quite ready to settle down to just one man yet. Any man who'd want me now is probably the wrong man.

Seven years ago, I became the youngest vice president of the largest land developer in the west. I'd done good work, and made the company a lot of money. I spent three years developing a classic property for my company. It had two new championship caliber golf courses and a little executive nine, with a world renown touring pro as the name behind the course. A high-end time-share resort complex surrounded the courses. It also had tennis, skeet, archery, and three lakes, fishing, boating, swimming, hiking, a gym and health spa. It was definitely upscale. It was 45 minutes away from great skiing, but the immediate area almost never got any snow. It seldom even got really cold there. A major national resort hotel contracted to rent the unsold units, and the sold units if the owners weren't using them. We expected some people to buy several units, and let the hotel rent them out. The big money we were anxious to see was from the sales of units, followed by the steady cash flow from management fees and services provided.

The publicity and promotion garnered a lot of attention in the trade press, the business press, the convention and vacation magazines, the newspaper travel and business sections, and even the sports sections. It was amazing. Most of that was my doing.

I orchestrated everything, from planning and zoning, through the bidding, permits and construction, the publicity and into the beginning of the sales phase. Some people in the office thought it was a bit too much, when I put myself into the publicity in a major way. There were more photos of me in the promotional material than everyone else combined. It didn't hurt that I was in spectacular shape, not so much from hard exercise as from good genes, a careful diet, a little running and light weights; and a lot of golf.

There were photos of me in the office, and walking the grounds in business attire. There were photos of me in slinky eveningwear, in the restaurant, at the bar, and dancing in the nightclub. There were photos of me on the golf course, including one pretty risqué one of me following through after a shot, with obvious nipples at high beam. There were photos of me in the newest skimpy tennis dress with spaghetti straps and nipples. There were photos of me by the pool in a tiny bikini, and tanning my back, with my bikini top straps untied, and several views of the sides of my breasts. I was shown in the gym, in skin tight lycra and spandex. I was shown on a massage table, and in the sauna, obviously naked under a towel, and in a hot tub, with the top of my breasts poking out of the water, with no obvious bikini top. I was featured in a video we showed on late night cable; it was somewhat sexier than in the print ads.

I'd been with the company for three years, when the executive vice president dropped dead. I expected a promotion up to his position. I began to worry when it remained vacant for a few months.

The timing couldn't have been worse. Just as we began to sell units, the economy went into the Dumpster, and interest rates spiked upwards. Not only was nothing selling, but the company couldn't get financing for the next projects in the pipeline. They had to cut back. I was one of the casualties.

My boss liked me, just not enough to keep me on the payroll with diminished cash flow. What he did was find a spot for me running the resort I'd developed, working for the single purpose entity formed to sell the units and manage the property. It didn't pay what I'd been making, but jobs were suddenly scarce. I took the job, rented my condo out, and moved up in the foothills. My six-figure salary was cut by more than half. At first, I assumed the reduction in my income was only temporary, and I didn't cut back much on lifestyle expenses. When I decided I had to, I found it was an incredibly difficult thing to do.

My deal allowed me to sell units too. I got a commission on my personal sales, an override on sales by my staff, and I got a bonus when 35% of the available units sold. There were other bonuses at later points. My commissions and overrides got deferred until bonus time, when I'd get both checks. It was a long struggle, but the first bonus point was approaching, probably in about sixty days. My bonus was going to be over fifty thousand dollars. My deferred commissions were over forty thousand dollars. When I got those checks, my total income since coming over to the resort would still be far less than I was earning before. The money was already spent.

I had burned through all my savings. My credit cards were maxed out. I had almost no food in the apartment. Most of my breakfasts and dinners, were macaroni or tortillas with cheap cheese and beans, unless the supermarket thirty miles away had something on special. Breakfast cereal was an occasional treat. Lunch was often donuts from the sales office. They had apples at the hotel registration desk. I had one each morning when I came in, another in mid afternoon, and I always took one home with me.

Hardly a day went by that I didn't get multiple phone calls from bill collectors. Some of my creditors were sending me two threatening letters a week. The last three months, I'd taken cash to the finance company the day before they told me they were coming to repossess my car. The only reason I wasn't bouncing checks was that I had overdraft protection on my checking account, but that was pushing the limit. I had changed my withholding to maximize my take home pay, and was going to owe IRS big bucks next April 15.

One morning, I received E-mail from my boss. His development company had borrowed almost all the cash from the company I worked for. I wasn't going to get my bonus and deferred commissions on schedule. I'd get it paid eventually, equally, over twenty-four months, starting "in a few months." They'd pay me interest on the money at the end.