Chapter 37

Tess called her lawyer from my parents' house and outlined the basics. He passed her on to another member of the firm -- a man Tess knew less well but who was the law firm's expert on privacy/libel/slander matters.

It was a guy named Ipock. Ipock is one of those North Carolina names that I never had run into, anywhere else. Evidently the Ipocks -- wherever they came from originally, settled in North Carolina and mostly never left.

Alfred Newton Ipock listened to Tess' story all over again. I was on an extension and I made an occasional verbal contribution. "Get the magazine first," the lawyer said. We had explained that we had at least two people trying to secure us a copy of the publication.

"Call me when you get it, and bring it with you when you come in. I'll tell my secretary to clear time for you whenever you call."

It took two more days after that, but then we suddenly had multiple copies of the infamous publication. Two came in to Roy Junior from his New York contact. Three copies were sent to us, via Fed Ex, by Roland's European connection. When we called Roland to let him know they'd arrived, he confirmed that he and Kim had copies, too. It turned out that there were English-language editions of the magazine, as well as the German originals. Roland had sent us both.

It was a slick, professionally produced magazine with oversized pages. It was ESPN, The Magazine, only everybody in it, or just about everybody, was female and naked, or close to it.

Just as Junior had told us, the "Tess" feature -- whether in English or in German -- ran ten pages. There was some text, but it was mostly just pictures -- the dozen we'd already seen and several others. As one would expect, the first dozen were the most graphic, so there wasn't much additional shock value for us in seeing the ones that hadn't made the Internet.

But I counted a total of 19 photographs, featuring one or all of us. Kim had one shot of her alone -- the first we'd seen in which Tess wasn't also featured. She looked cute. The photographer had caught her with a glorious smile on her face, and the vertical smile down below was equally striking. And, thanks to the bad influences of Tess and me, it was entirely hairless.

Roland, too, had one small photo that featured him, alone. The photo was small, but Roland wasn't.

No new shots of yours truly. But the foursome of us -- the one where we were all leaving the beach for the day -- was blown up into half a page and, aside from the stand-up photo of Tess alone, was perhaps the featured picture of the whole display.

The caption, though, was what really got me:

American golfing star Tess Henderson Everett, second from left, leaving the beach
at Orient Club, Saint Martin, after a day of sunbathing. At left, Kim
Young Sun, South Korean golfer, also prominent on the LPGA Tour. Next to
Henderson, Roland Hidalgo, a businessman from Portland, Oregon, USA. At far right,
(unfortunately for Tess) is Henderson's husband, Will Everett. The couple
were married early in December. The four were vacationing together at the
well-known nude beach resort.

You didn't have to be a genius to pick up on that smart remark in the photo caption. One look at Roland and me, coming at the camera, side-by-side, and anyone could tell why the magazine writer had thrown in that "unfortunately for Tess" crack. There wasn't anything particularly wrong, I thought, with my male appendage, but even I had to admit that, standing too close to Roland Hidalgo, it looked like God had done me a really bad turn.

I didn't say anything about the caption to Tess. She was still absorbing the impact of the ten-page special spread in which Tess -- especially -- was liberally spread. It wasn't clear whether she'd read the caption at all.

When I pointed it out to her, her eyes flashed. "Those cocksuckers!" she said. "Let's really hang 'em up to dry! Let's sue their asses off!"

Well, I had mixed feelings. I couldn't tell anybody that Kim and I had been involved in making all this happen. Obviously, my taking part in a lawsuit against the magazine would reach new heights of hypocrisy on my part.

On the other hand, that "unfortunately for Tess" crack was -- literally -- below the belt. The magazine's writers were, indeed, cocksuckers, and I was ready to try to make them choke on it.

I wondered what the caption said in German?

We met with Ipock, the privacy specialist, in Raleigh the following morning. Roy, Senior wanted to come with us, but Tess headed him off, telling him she wanted to do this herself, with only her husband at her side.

I was proud of her.

Roy, Senior and Tess had never had "the talk" after Marlene had broken the news, initially, about the photographs. Obviously, by now he'd seen them -- the prints, the Internet version, and, now, the magazine, too. He was behaving pretty well, considering. He wasn't, evidently, angry with Tess, and he didn't shower her with scornful glances.

Not a bad performance, for a father.

We sat in front of this new lawyer for a long time, saying nothing, while he went through the magazine, page-by-page. He'd already seen the Internet photos (there were fifteen, now, available on various sites), and I provided him with a set of the original twelve, printed out from the computer.

"You're a public figure," he told Tess. Those were the first words he'd spoken since he'd shaken our hands and asked us if we wanted coffee or a Coke.

"You're a public figure, and you were on a public beach. You were engaged in conduct that was legal in the jurisdiction, and in the company of -- it looks like -- dozens, maybe hundreds, of other naked people... Is that correct?"

"I don't know if I'm exactly a public figure," Tess said.

"You are," the old lawyer said. "Take my word for it."

We did. This guy wasn't nearly as warm and fuzzy as Tess' regular lawyer.

He went through the entire magazine spread again. He didn't look particularly aroused. He didn't hurry. At his hourly rate, I wouldn't have hurried, either.

We waited, silently, again.

"What have you heard, from the officials of the LPGA?" he asked Tess.

"Nothing -- yet," Tess said. "But it's been right in the middle of the Christmas season. I don't imagine they've... you know... met about it, or discussed it, yet."

"You have a big new endorsement contract -- correct?"

"Yes, sir. With a Japanese company. TESLA."

"What have they said to you, about this?"

"Nothing. Nothing... yet, anyway."

"I'm uncertain whether, even if there were to be repercussions for you, from the LPGA, or from your sponsor corporation, that you have an actionable cause," Ipock said. "You, Mr. Everett, may have a cause of action, however."

"Me?"

"You are, first of all, not a public figure, and the law gives you, perhaps, slightly more protection from invasions of your privacy. Not much more. Nobody forced you to take off your pants in public -- correct?"

"Correct."

"But this caption, here -- this snide remark under the group picture about 'unfortunately for Tess.' That may be actionable."

"Gee," I said, "I thought that truth was an absolute defense."

The attorney looked at me for about fifteen seconds, trying, I guess, to decide whether I was serious. Well, he was serious enough for the both of us. "That wouldn't apply, in these circumstances," he said, finally.

"All-in-all," he told us, "it's not much of a case, and you're unlikely to recover anything -- or at least, not anything... substantial. My recommendation would be to..."

"I want those pictures!" Tess said.

"The pictures." Ipock said.

"The originals, and the negatives -- all of them," Tess said.

"And we want the publisher's pledge not to republish them, at any time, in any media," I added. I wasn't at all certain that Tess actually even wanted that, but, hey, I did. And if we had any kind of legal cause, here, I figured the lawyer would have to base it, exclusively, or at least primarily, on the damage inflicted on my manhood. You just don't make fun of a man's cock! At least, not in a goddamned general circulation magazine!

Tess knew, of course, that however she might feel, in her heart of hearts, about the publication of her naked body for all the world to see, the proper attitude for her, in the lawyer's office, was one of indignation.

Ipock didn't have to know that the main reason she wanted those originals was that their technical quality, in all likelihood, would far exceed anything we'd been able to print out from the computer scans. And if the magazine itself had digital versions, she wanted the originals of those, too.

Every last byte.

So we talked a long time. Ipock suggested that we hold off on filing a civil action for the time being, but that he be authorized to negotiate with the publishers for a settlement.

We agreed. We wanted a pledge from the publishers never to reproduce the photographs or republish them in any form. We wanted the actual photographs -- all copies, all negatives, all digital reproductions.