Territory Manager

I once again apologize, this is a long story. There are a couple of sub plots that I thought were necessary, so it did get long. There is some sex, but not a lot. If you are looking for a quick, heavy sex story, this is not it. There are lots of great authors that do that much better than I can.

If you do read it, I hope you enjoy it.

TERRITORY MANAGER

I wondered what this meeting was going to be about. I was actually slightly nervous, walking into the familiar back office conference room. This was a place I had been many times before. I was also curious. There had been some gossip about changes at B&B, but no one knew what exactly. I glanced in at Mr Bellows office as I walked by. Door part way open, overhead light off, desk light on. For some reason it appeared a little more vacant than normal.

There was a large rectangular table in the conference room, this was where we had our monthly sales meetings. I sat on the far side with a view of the back parking lot. Next to me was Marcia. Across from us were Kevin and a few others. At the front of the room stood Mr Bellows, his son Ted, and a tall smiling gentleman I had never seen before.

That morning I had mentioned to Crystal that I was a little worried about the abruptly planned company meeting. We got the email at 5:30 last night, for an 8 AM meeting this morning. Normally our meetings are on Fridays, not in the middle of the week.

“Oh Roger,” Crystal replied. “What are you worried about? Your sales are up, you are doing a great job. Mr Bellows thinks the world of you.” She went on. “You worry too much”

She was right. My business was way up and it was less than six months ago that Mr Bellows, Arthur, had told me during my review that I was ‘important to the business’.

Things were going well for me at B&B. And Crystal and I were doing great also I thought. I just guess I didn’t want anything to change. As I contemplated this, that Wednesday morning in the conference room, the door closed and Arthur Bellows stood.

“Everyone, thank you all for being here on such short notice. Especially you, Louisa, I know it was a long drive for you.” He began. Arms clasped behind his back he took a moment to compose himself before going on.

“As you all know Ted has taken on a larger role with our business,” he said nodding to Ted Bellows, his son. “As our business has grown, thanks to your strong sales efforts, we need to keep up with changes in the business environment.” He went on.

At this point I noticed the tall man edging towards the front of the conference room table, asserting himself into the fringes of the spotlight. For whatever reason, I could tell I did not like this guy. Cocky, smarmy looking. I studied him. I didn’t trust him.

“So with that, I will be retiring at the end of the year and Ted will take over. I’ll still be around. But effective mid December, Ted will be president of Burton and Bellows.” Mr Bellows announced.

With that, the younger Bellows, Ted, stood, shook his father’s hand, and addressed the group. Ted is quite different from his father I had observed. A nice enough person, but he’s a CPA, slightly introverted, intelligent, but in the building material industry it’s a lot about personal relationships. This did not seem to be Ted’s strength.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I can not tell you how proud I am of this group. The growth we have made in our business over the last few years is outstanding.” Ted told us. He was not the natural orator his father was either, but he seemed sincere.

I noticed the tall man continuing to inch his way toward the front. He had a phony smile on his face, nodding at Ted’s comments, occasionally donning an expression of solemnity and gazing upwards as if in heavy contemplation of Ted’s words.

“And with that,” Ted went on as he turned toward the tall stranger, “I would now like to introduce you to our new Director of Sales, Gordon Dobler.”

The tall man grasped Ted’s hand, shook it, all but ignoring Arthur Bellows, and turned to address the group.

Uh oh, I thought.

— — — — — — — — — —

To say my life was bumpy growing up would be an understatement. We lived in the city, my mom, my sister and me. I remember a little bit of my dad but he left us by the time I was six. My mom was bitter that he left and never really came out of it. I guess it turned me bitter too.

We would be socioeconomically firmly somewhere between lower middle class and poor. We had food, but three meals a day were certainly nowhere near a guarantee at our house. Holidays and birthdays were a source of stress for the family. I learned early to manage my expectations to help limit my disappointment.

But it still hurt to see the smiling families on TV at Christmas with their decorations and heaps of wrapped presents.

The other thing you always saw in these scenes was a father. That was just one more disappointing thing that was absent in our house.

By sixth grade I was considered a problem kid at school. I was rebellious, angry and a troublemaker. I got in lots of fights. Truth be known. They weren’t all my fault. I was one of the smaller kids and I became a target for bullies. The difference between me and the other targets was that I would not often back down.

Towards the end of my sixth grade year I was out on the playground after lunch one day when a group of seventh graders surrounded me. There was one big kid in the group, Charlie Rutherford. For some reason he didn’t like me.

“Hey Winters,” He said to me. “Looks like you’re wearing third hand clothes again.” He taunted.

His gang laughed at that. I tried to continue walking, He was wrong about the clothes, they were only second hand. Rutherford stiff-armed my shoulder half spinning me and I was now facing him.

“I wasn’t done talking to you, you little midget asshole.” He sneered at me, his fat cheeks turning red.

Normally by this time I would’ve hit him, but I was on school property and I could not afford to get kicked out of this school. I tried to stay calm, stepped around him and continued across the playground.

Whump, I was knocked to the ground. Rutherford had swung his book filled backpack and hit me square between the shoulders. My chin had impacted the cement surface of the playground and was now bleeding.

With a blinding rage I got to my feet, spun around, and faced my bully. His buddies had created a bit of a circle and we were clearly in the center of this impromptu arena.

Charlie Rutherford had to be six inches and at least 50 pounds heavier than me, but I had a blind hot rage going. That rage simmered in me most of the time. With a little bit of prompting it could easily erupt.

And it did.

By the time the teachers had grabbed me Rutherford’s face was a bloody mess. I had bitten his left ear and it was dangling by a thread of skin. My hands and face were covered in our combined blood. He was sobbing.

I was sent to the principal’s office.

Fortunately someone, and I didn’t know who it was, had reported the circumstances of the fight to the teachers. It was clear that I was not the instigator. Nonetheless the beating I had given Charlie Rutherford had to be addressed.

I sat in the outer office waiting for Principal Chalmers to call me in. The secretary had let me into the office restroom to wash up and put a bandaid on my chin. I was dreading the outcome of this confrontation with Chalmers. If I get kicked out of this school my mom was going to kill me.

Finally I was summoned back to the principal’s office. I sat in the wooden straight backed chair opposite Principal Chalmers desk. Chalmers was studying his computer monitor, likely reviewing my extensive file. After a few moments he turned his gaze upon me and spoke.

“Roger, why don’t you tell me what happened on the playground today.” Chalmers addressed me in a neutral voice.

I sat and thought, trying to assemble the correct words. After a moment I told him the truth.

“I was minding my own business and Rutherford picked a fight.” I said. “I was just defending myself.” I added.

“Defending yourself!?” He exclaimed. “Charlie Rutherford is in the hospital.” He told me. “You could’ve walked away and avoided the whole thing.” He went on.

“I tried.” I said. “He knocked me down when I tried to walk away.” I told him.

Principal Chalmers studied me silently. He then turned toward the monitor. He must have been reading my school file. I saw him give a slight nod as he read something.

“Fortunately for you, young man, others have corroborated your story.” He told me. “But that boy was hurt badly.” He paused again and said to me, “Roger, you need to straighten up. You have been in a lot of trouble ever since you’ve been at my school. I have every right to expel you. But I’m going to give you one last chance. Here is what I want you to do.”

Principal Chalmers had an old friend, Roosevelt McBee. ‘Mac’ as he was known, ran the Boys Club near downtown. They had a successful boxing program there. Chalmers said it would teach me discipline and be good for me. I could either sign up for the program at the Boys Club or be suspended for fighting and potentially be expelled.

This was an easy decision. The following day I found myself in the boxing program at the Boys Club.

Everyday after school I would take the green line bus down to fourth avenue and walk two blocks to the crumbling brick Boys Club on second.

Roosevelt McBee was a large no nonsense man with a battered face likely from years of being in the boxing ring. I quickly learned he was fair, but took exactly no shit. He had a firm set of rules and if you were in this Boys Club, you had better abide by Mac’s rules. Period.

Day one for me at the club I learned all this. My first half hour each day I was there doing some type of chore at the Boys Club. Sweeping the floor, picking up towels, whatever Mac needed that day. I didn’t even have the fifteen dollars a month to belong to the club. Mac made me earn it by helping him on one thing or another.

He taught me a couple of things at the club. Number one, under Mac’s supervision I began to learn discipline. Number two, he showed me how to work out and got me in top shape. Number three, he taught me how to box. And I became good.

Since I was less than sixteen years old when I started, I boxed in what is called Silver Gloves at 114 pounds. There was a large boxing club in the north part of our city, the Park Street Community Center. They were the Golden Glove franchisee for our area. Each year the Golden Glove regional was held at Park Street. I boxed Silver Gloves here and did well, winning more of my fights than I lost.

But Golden Gloves was the big thing. If you won regionals you got to go to nationals. That was my goal.

One other positive thing came out of my Boy’s Club boxing. Charlie Rutherford and any of the other bullies at school left me alone. There were a few kids from my school who were members of the Boys Club. My boxing ability must have become known.

I continued training at The Boys Club and at age sixteen I became eligible for Golden Gloves. I boxed at 141 pounds. My two best friends from the Boys Club also boxed at the regional tournament. TJ boxed at 178 and Oscar was in the 152 pound category.

My first year at Golden Gloves, my junior year of high school, I lost my second match. The winner of my weight class was a Mexican kid. I studied him. He was fast and he knew how to box. Oscar lost his second match too, but TJ made it to the finals before he lost. We all pledged to work harder to get better for next year.

At regionals the following year I kept my weight down and stayed at 141. TJ was now boxing at 201. Oscar broke his hand two weeks before regionals and could not participate.

I boxed well and made it to the finals. My opponent was the defending champ at 141 pounds, Martin Gomez. I remembered him from last year. I knew he was quick, but so far, my strategy was a straightforward aggressive attack that would quickly put my opponent off balance.

I used that strategy against Gomez and at first it seemed to work. I even had a first round knockdown. I was confident, but then he changed his approach. He kept moving, staying out of range of my attacks while occasionally lashing out with his whip-like jabs.

I went the distance with him, but my frustration at his superior skill angered me and I actually performed worse as the fight went on. The Judges’ scorecards showed a clear victory for Gomez. I was angry. When he went to touch gloves after the decision had been announced, I acted like an asshole and ignored him.

Later I found myself sulking in the visitors’ locker room. TJ had made it to regionals, and though I was happy for him, I was still so pissed I had lost. Some of the guys came over to talk but I wasn’t in the mood.

Finally Oscar came by.

“Roger, sorry man,” he told me and patted my shoulder. “Hey, Martin wants to talk to you man.” He said.

“Who?” I said, but I knew who he meant.

“You know, the guy you just fought. He’s a friend of my cousin and a nice guy.” Oscar said. “He just wants to talk to you for a few minutes. Okay if I bring him in?”

I said nothing, Oscar left and five minutes later returned with Martin Gomez.

“Hey man, I just wanted to tell you that you are a hell of a boxer.” Gomez told me. “I’ve fought a lot of guys so far and man, you are the toughest I’ve met. I’d never been knocked down before, even last year at Nationals, you did it in the first round tonight.” He said.

With that I looked up to make sure he was serious.

“Really?” I asked him.

“Oh man!” He said. “That right hand was like a hammer. I saw stars.” He told me. “I’ve never been hit that hard, even sparring with my cousin.”

We got to talking and I learned he had been boxing ever since he could put boxing gloves on. He was shooting for the Olympics next year. Last year he was third runner up nationally at Golden Gloves, and was favored to win the 141 pound weight class this year.

One other thing I learned, his cousin was Wilfredo Gomez, the number four ranked WBA professional welterweight.

Suddenly I didn’t feel quite as bad as I had just a little while ago.

“I wanted to ask you a favor, ” he said to me. “Would you consider sparring with me for the next couple of months before nationals? I really need to workout with someone good. And you’re the best around here.” He told me.

I agreed and we worked out a schedule. Beyond a great opportunity to box with a potential champion, I learned that Martin was a very good guy. He and I became friends. When he learned I had no set plans after high school graduation, he told me he’d check around for me. That was nice, I thought.

Two weeks before Golden Gloves Nationals after our sparring session Martin handed me a slip of paper.

“My uncle works here. He told me they need a guy for the warehouse. Sounds like a good company,” he said. “My Uncle John wants you to call him next week.” He added.

I looked at the slip of paper ‘Burton and Bellows Building Materials – John Gomez 509 952…..’ Hmm I thought. Can’t hurt to call him.

— — — — — — — — — —

Three weeks later I was hired at Burton and Bellows Building Materials. I called John Gomez just as Martin suggested, met the owner Arthur Bellows, and was offered a job. I began working in the warehouse.

The company sold lumber and other building products. I knew nothing about any of this type of stuff when I started. But I learned. I observed something else the more I worked here.

Most people were lazy. And it didn’t take much effort to look better than my average co-workers.

After my first year Mr Bellows gave me a raise and talked to me about my future.

“Roger,” he began. “There is a career path for you here at B&B. I have received positive reports on how you are doing. I have seen it too. Keep it up and I promise that as long as I am here you will have a job.” He went on.

It was probably because I was raised with no father or adult male in my life, other than Mac, but Mr Bellows positive words were very important to me. I became loyal to Arthur Bellows.

One evening after five o’clock I was just finishing loading a delivery truck for the following day. I was the last one left in the warehouse. Mr Bellows walked over.

“Roger,” He asked. “What do you think about moving to an inside sales position in the office? You know the products, you work hard and I need another inside person on the phones. What do you think?” He looked at me.

I told him I would love the opportunity.

“Starting on the first of next month, you will be training on the order desk with John Gomez.” Mr Bellows said. “And Roger, your salary, effective on the first, is $40,000 per year.”

Forty thousand dollars! I didn’t know what that meant compared to the eighteen-fifty per hour I was making now, but it sure felt like a lot.

One of the things I noted about working in the office was that you dressed differently than in the warehouse. It was more professional. No more overalls and torn jeans. I observed that the acceptable attire was mainly khakis and polo shirts. I began to dress that way for work.

It took me a while to understand the computer system and to be able to reference inventory. The advantage I had was I knew the products from my time in the warehouse.

One evening after most of the people had gone home Mr Bellows asked me to join him in his office. I always looked forward to this type of time with Mr Bellows. We had good discussions and I always felt better after talking to him.

“How do you like working inside sales?” He asked me once we sat down in his office.

“I’m learning a lot about sales.” I told him. “I like it. I’m also learning about our customers. I never realized how different our customers are, and how we need to treat each of them differently based on their business.” I commented.

Mr Bellows nodded as he heard my reply. One of the things I appreciated about him was that he seemed to really pay attention when I said something. That made me feel good, as if what I said mattered.

“Roger, you are beginning to really understand our business,” he said. “That is good. I have people that have been here ten years or longer that may not really understand things as well as you.” He told me.

“I have another question for you, on a different subject.” He told me. “What are you doing with your money?” He asked.

My money I thought. Why was he asking me about my money?

“Um,” I mumbled. “Saving it mostly.” I said.

“Good, good.” He nodded. “My boy, our city is set to see increased population growth. And with population growth there will be demand for real estate. One thing you may have learned in business is that prices always follow demand.” He went on. “In the next few years real estate prices are going to increase dramatically here.”

What he said made sense, I was just unclear why he was telling me all this.

“Roger, I think you should seriously consider buying a house in the area.” He told me. “In fact I will be happy to co-sign on the mortgage if you need me to. Here is the realtor I have used. Call him, I urge you and find something soon.” He said.

I hadn’t even thought about a house, but what Mr Bellows said made sense. I thanked him and decided to take his advice and start looking at houses. I will call this realtor tomorrow, I thought.

Another thing I needed beyond the house was a girlfriend. I had dated some since high school, but nothing long term. There had been my share of pickups and one night stands, but nothing serious.

I guess I kind of felt that my career was going well, I may buy a house, it just seemed natural to have a more serious girlfriend relationship.

Over the next few months some events in my life began to happen. I did buy a small two bedroom – one bath house on the south side of town, not far from where I grew up. Mr Bellows helped me with the mortgage loan and the negotiations with the realtor.

My job changed too. It started out as one afternoon per week that I would leave the office and help our local outside Territory Manager, Kevin Mills, with some of his smaller customers.

Kevin was a real professional Territory Manager. He had been at B&B for nearly ten years. He had grown the local business and was the top Territory Manager in the company. I estimated Kevin to be in his mid-thirties, married, a little stuck up, but basically a nice guy.

There was a group of smaller customers that he was not able to see regularly and between Kevin and Mr Bellows they decided it would be a good idea if I started working with them and try to grow our business with this customer group. I really enjoyed this part of my job. I became a Territory Manager trainee.

Near where I now lived was a big neighborhood style bar and restaurant. It was called The Regulator. It had big screens for sporting events and a dance floor. Normally they had music there on Thursday and Friday nights.

I had been there before but now that it was walking distance from my house I started becoming a regular at The Regulator.

I met my share of women there and often took them home with me. I tried to be polite and respectful and never try to lead them on with promises of a relationship beyond that particular evening.

But, so far, I had yet to meet a woman that was more than just a one night stand.

One Friday in April I was at the Regulator with Oscar, my old boxing pal, and across the room I saw my sister was there with her boyfriend Ben, and a small group of her friends.

My sister, Janet, was four years younger than me so we were never in high school at the same time. She and I were not particularly close, I guess that was a pattern in our family, but Janet and I were certainly friendly.

I saw there was a table next to Janet’s where a group of people interacted with Janet’s group. As if they were all friends. I noticed a petite, dishwater blond girl sitting at that adjacent table. I hadn’t seen her before. I liked the way she looked.

When I saw Janet and Ben, her boyfriend, walk up to the bar I joined them to say hi and chat. What I really wanted to do was find out about the girl at the table next to theirs.

“Janet, Ben, how’s it going?” I asked.

And we had the normal type of small talk conversation that everyone has.

Finally I got around to asking.

“So, who is the cute little blond sitting across from you?” I asked.

“Blond, who?” Janet asked puzzled and then she turned back towards where they had been sitting.

“That’s Crystal,” Ben said, and smiled.

“Roger, no.” Janet said. “She’s got kind of a boyfriend and he’s an asshole. Crystal is a bit of a wild child too. Roger, find someone else.” Janet told me.

“I was just asking, I’ve never seen her before.” I said.

“She was a year younger than me in school,” Janet said. “So maybe she just turned 21 and now is legal in the bars. She’s actually a nice girl, but there’s always some drama surrounding her.” Janet went on.

At that moment one of Janet’s friends, Ashley, walked up, through an arm over my and Janet’s shoulders.

“What are we talking about?” She boozily asked.

“Roger’s checking out Crystal.” Ben told Ashley.

“Uh oh!” Ashley said. “Be careful big boy.” Ashley added smiling as she walked to the women’s restroom.

At that Janet swatted Ben’s arm.

“Why’d you tell Ashley that?” Janet asked. “She’s the biggest blabbermouth in town.” Janet added.

“Sorry babe.” Ben apologized.

Just as I got back to my table with Oscar the band started playing.

I noticed a tall red-neck looking dude in cowboy boots with his arm over Crystal’s chair. He looked red faced and angry. I’d never seen the guy before.

A little while later I noticed Ashley, hand cupped to her mouth, whispering something in Crystal’s ear. Crystal’s eyes went wide and her gaze pivoted to me. I tried to quickly look away. When I looked back Ashley was gone and Crystal was smiling at me.

She certainly was cute. My type. Kind of petite with elfin features and a natural smile.

I smiled back. I tried to stay cool.

One thing I learned during my boxing lessons with Mac was to always stay cool. When you get angry, you make a mistake. I tried to use this philosophy for other parts of my life too. From an angry, hotheaded kid, I’d evolved into an outwardly calm, cool and composed young man. That was the image I tried to present.

But I knew there was that lava hot anger bubbling below my surface core. I tried to avoid confrontations that would expose this emotion.

An hour or so later, with the band in full swing, I noticed the redneck dude who had been sitting near Crystal seemed to be absent. I decided, under the premise of visiting with my sister, to walk over to where that group was sitting.

I was invited to join my sister and the crowd near her, they made room for Oscar and I. I chatted with most of the people including Crystal.

They started playing a song that apparently Crystal liked.

“Umm Roger, do you want to dance?” Crystal asked me, slightly shyly.

And so we danced.

Crystal would just stare at me with a half smile on her face through sexy, sleepy looking, half lidded eyes. I liked her look.

One song bled into the next and the third song was slow. Crystal just moved into my arms without hesitation. She continued the eye contact and I had a hard time looking away. Our embrace became tighter as the band played on.

Without notice I felt two large hands grab me by the shoulders and pull me away from Crystal. My normal reflexes were dulled by the previous languid mood. I stumbled to one knee, looked up to see the redneck asshole pointing at Crystal and glaring at me. Two of his asshole buddies were right behind and they kind of boxed me in.

“Stay the fuck away from her, if you know what’s good for you.” The redneck told me.

My temper was starting to flare and all of a sudden Oscar was by my side.

“Easy, easy,” he quietly told me, and I stayed on one knee.

This minor fracas momentarily subsided and Crystal, redneck, and the other two assholes started walking back to the table. I noticed Crystal moved to sit down and redneck grabbed her upper arm, as if to pull her away from the table. Crystal tried to shrug him off. I could tell she was upset.

I walked over.

“Leave her alone,” I calmly told the redneck.

He turned his angry red faced gaze to me.

“Fuck off shrimp, this is none of your business.” He spat out at me.

He was five inches and probably twenty-five pounds heavier than I was.

I looked at Crystal, she was looking at me. A hopeful look in her eyes.

“Listen pal,” I continued, “leave the lady alone. We don’t want any trouble here.” I told him.

With that he released Crystal and wheeled around on me.

“Why you son of a bitch, motherfucking little shrimp. Stay the FUCK out of this!” He said.

And with that he went to shove me. I easily dodged his attempt and redneck slipped at his failed attempt to contact me. This made him more mad. His buddies huddled around the two of us and Oscar stood up too.

Quickly, The Regulator’s bouncers intervened.

“Don’t care what the fuck you guys do to each other, just don’t do it in here.” They said.

Redneck insisted on settling this outside, I was still calm, but this guy was seriously pissing me off.

There was one lone comment made as the group of us marched to the parking lot to settle the disagreement.

“Darryl,” a voice from the crowd said. “Do you know who you picked a fight with?”

If he even heard what was said, he ignored it.

Pretty soon there was the usual informal circle of bodies with redneck, I guess his name was Darryl, and me in the middle.

I was calm, and quickly got into my boxing stance.

In Golden Gloves my approach had always been, attack hard and fast. After sparring with Martin Gomez, I learned the art of counterpunching. Of waiting to see the opponents strategy and then find the right opening.

This seemed like the plan for this street fight.

Right away Darryl moved quickly, but sloppily toward me. Like I said he was much bigger and taller than me.

His first punch, a looping right hand, I saw coming a mile away. I easily ducked. The next one was even more telegraphed. With a slight head and body adjustment, his flailing punch connected with air. I looked over to Oscar, smiling with shrugged shoulders, palms up, as if, ‘what can you do?”.

My momentary distraction allowed Darryl a little bit of an opportunity. My reflexes were still crisp, but not what they once were and I sensed, rather than saw the roundhouse from Darryl.

My training kicked in and I tucked my chin and moved away from the punch but he caught my shoulder and the side of my head. It hurt. This big asshole didn’t know how to box but he was strong.

A minor fissure in my calm core erupted. I turned to Darryl in a classic boxing stance. As he launched another slow overhand punch, I moved inside quickly, jab, jab, and then a right.

The right was hard, square on the chin. Darryl was stunned but still on his feet, a small cut over his right eye from the left jabs.

He kind of shook himself and attacked me even more aggressively. I moved away and his assault was without effect. I then moved in quickly. I flicked two lefts that broke his nose and then a right that stunned him. I followed that with another combo, left-right, and he fell to the ground, dazed, not quite knocked out but close.

For a moment his two buddies moved toward me, but Oscar stepped in front of them. Their bravado had no real energy.

The fight was clearly over.

Anticlimactically there was a lull as the group of spectators just stood there rather quietly. Darryl’s buddies helped him up and they moved him across the parking lot away from the scene of the beating.

A single voice called out to the retreating party.

“I tried to tell you Darryl.”

The same voice that had cautioned Darryl in the bar before the fight started.

A moment later there was the sound of a car starting up and quickly exiting the parking lot in a spray of gravel.

I took a minute to survey the group still standing outside The Regulator. Oscar, my sister Janet, Ben, several others, and Crystal.

And Crystal was now staring at me.

Janet suggested we all head to her place for a nightcap. No one wanted to wait around in case Darryl showed up with more violence on his mind.

Oscar said he was going to head home and I said I was too.

As we all sort of split up I found that Crystal was still there near me.

“Are you walking?” She asked.

And I explained where I lived, how close it was and that I never had to worry about my blood alcohol level as long as I was walking.

As we walked and talked it became apparent that Crystal was heading home with me,

We got to my house, I showed her around and showed her some of the projects that I’d been working on around the house.

“You own this house?” She asked.

I told her I did and she just kind of stared at me.

Eventually we ended up on the secondhand couch in the living room splitting the single beer I had in the refrigerator. We talked and I learned about her life. It was rough like mine had been, but she didn’t seem saddened or angry. In fact she had this cheerful sunny personality that I was starting to like.

At one point the conversation stopped and we were just staring at one another, sitting side by side on the couch. I kissed her, and she kissed me back. We sat on the couch making out and I started feeling her body.

Crystal was maybe five foot four, short, straight dark blond hair and a slim physique. She had a nice shaped ass and medium breasts. I’ve dated better looking women, and I’ve dated women with better bodies. But something about the way Crystal put it all together made her extremely attractive to me. There was just a forthright sexuality to her that attracted me.

Eventually I got her down to just a pair of panties. I would suck her nipples and that turned her on. Her nipples were thick and as they engorged they took on a rubbery quality to them. I started sucking and lightly biting the nipples and that seemed to turn her on.

As I lightly teased and massaged her panty covered pussy I could feel the wetness through the material. She was really into it. When I thought she had a small shuddering orgasm either through the sucking or the rubbing I took a minute and stood up.

I began taking off my clothes. I looked at Crystal while I did this. She just stared back at me. When I removed my underwear her gaze shifted to my erection and she stared. She was looking at me like men look at naked women. She wanted me, I thought.

Just as these thoughts went through my mind she spoke.

“I’m not fucking you tonight.” She told me, a half smile on her face.

I froze. I had a puzzled look on my face. We were both naked, except her panties, we were both turned on, and I had the impression that she liked what we were doing.

“You’re not?” I asked.

“Not tonight,” She said.

“Should I get dressed?” I asked. I was confused by the circumstances.

“I hope you don’t,” She laughed. “Roger, we can do other things, but if we screw on our first night together I’ll feel slutty. Plus I like you. I don’t want another one night stand.” She told me.

For a moment I thought about her statement of ‘another one night stand’, but I quickly filed that away for now and thought of the ‘other things’ we could do.

And we did them.

We ended up both, now, completely naked on my bed. I nearly breached her vaginal walls a couple of times, but she disengaged and held firm to the no-fucking for now resolution.

We had fun rolling around naked. Eventually through a combination of a blow job and a hand job I ejaculated on her tits and stomach. She’d had multiple orgasms by this point.

After my release I collapsed next to her. I expected her to eventually exit to the bathroom to clean up, but when I looked over at her she was rubbing my ejaculate on her skin. In fact the sight of her rubbing my sperm onto her tits and nipples got me on the road to another erection.

“I like fluids.” She told me.

I just stared at her, not sure what to say.

We ended up having another non-intercourse sex session. Before my mouth went back to her body I insisted on a quick communal shower.

Despite the lack of fucking it was one of the most sexually satisfying experiences I had ever enjoyed. Part of it was that I was starting to like Crystal. Not only her looks, but her fun spirit attracted me also. In the back of my mind I thought about the veiled warnings and comments I had heard about Crystal from my sister and others. I’m going to take it one step at a time, I thought.

We eventually did sleep and I made us coffee in the morning. We sat comfortably at my small kitchen table. Crystal just smiled and looked at me, not speaking, just looking.

“What?” I asked.

She shook her head, and just kept smiling and staring.

“Crys, what are you looking at?” I asked, now a smile on my face.

“You.” She said, “I guess I just like you.” She told me.

I didn’t say a word at first, but what she said made me happy. I was sort of surprised at how happy it made me.

“I guess I like you too, Crys.” I told her.

She came over,sat on my lap and I kissed her. Not the lust filled, sexual kisses of last night, but more a tender affectionate kiss. This was becoming interesting.

Eventually I took her to her home, a small apartment on the north end of downtown that she shared with another waitress at the restaurant where she worked.

She worked tonight until around ten PM. We made plans to get together on Sunday. In the meantime no discussion with Janet or anyone else about this, I guess you would call it, ‘relationship’ with Crystal. She may have a reputation, but I wanted to learn about her on my own before everyone started saying things to me about her.

We had lunch together on Sunday. Afterwards we drove north to Chandler Lake. We parked in a secluded spot and watched the water for a while and then started making out.

Soon I was sucking on those nipples and she gave me a handjob.

Still no intercourse but this may just be the best sex of my life even without the fucking.

And I realized I did like her.

I better do a little background investigation before it gets too deep, I thought. I called my sister. We chatted for a few minutes before I got into the subject of Crystal.

“So tell me a little about Crystal Greer.” I asked Janet.

“Oh boy.” Janet sighed. “I wondered if she went home with you Friday night.” She said, “Did you fuck her?” My sister asked.

“No!” I said. “Janet, that’s none of your business anyway. I was just asking what she was like and why you and Ashley made those comments about her.” I asked.

Janet paused for a second, I could hear a deep intake of breath as if she were composing herself.

“Crystal was a year behind me in school.” Janet told me. “In high school she seemed to start dating early. A lot of her boyfriends were older, asshole types. Like the guy you beat up. There were always some type of problem with her relationships. Break ups, fights, jealousy, messy incidents. I did have a couple of classes with her and she was always really nice to me. But she was one of those girls that jumped from boyfriend to boyfriend. There seemed to be no question that she was sexually active at a younger than normal age.” Janet went on.

I sat and digested what she told me. There was nothing that she had said that was terrible. Sounded like just a little unstable. I knew girls kind of like this in school. In fact I’d dated a few. I also began to wonder if since high school she’d changed, matured. I know I had. Furthermore it wasn’t like I was proposing to her or anything like that. Just gathering a little background information.

We continued to see each other. We also eventually did have sex. If I thought all the foreplay stuff we had done to date was good, the fucking was even better. There was no doubt that she was experienced, but what I liked most was the natural desire that she had. Many of the girls I dated acted like they were giving you sex as a favor. Not Crystal, she was into it.

We had a lot of fun together sexually and otherwise. I really liked her. I had my antennae up though. I watched, l listened, I noted her behavior, I analyzed what she said. I even asked her about Darryl. I specifically didn’t want to hear a lengthy account of her complete sexual history, but because of our interaction, I did want to know about Darryl.

“I really only was with him for a couple of months”. She said, “I had just broken up with Kenny when I met Darryl. He came into Brady’s, where I work. He asked me out and we started dating. He got really possessive real quickly.” She told me.

“I was going to tell him we were through the night I met you at The Regulator” she said. “I think he knew it. That’s why he was in such a bad mood and picked a fight with you.” She went on.

“I heard he moved to Montana.” She told me in finality.

I thought about what she said. It all sounded logical. I decided on a strategy. The old Ronald Reagan phrase when dealing with the Russians, ‘trust but verify’. I was going to keep seeing her but I would continue to observe.

Meanwhile my job at B&B was going great. I had evolved to a full time Territory Manager. Doing outside sales full time. I worked with Mr Bellows and Kevin Mills to create a territory. Kevin gave me a list of smaller local customers to work with and Mr Bellows gave me the geography east into western Montana.

No overnight travel but Wednesdays and Thursdays were long days for me.

I also found out that I would now get commissions on my sales.

One evening I was in the office after hours and Mr Bellows asked me to stop by his office before I left. I always enjoyed spending time with him. He always seemed to have my best interests at heart.

“Roger, I just wanted to tell you what a good job you are doing for the company.” He stated. “When you took on your new role we never really talked about commissions. I trust you are pleased with your commission checks?” He smiled and told me.

“Oh yes sir, Mr Bellows.” I said. “Thank you. The commissions are great.” I told him.

“Thank you Roger, you have earned every bit of those commissions.” He told me. “But I’d like to give you some advice. Business is good now, but over the years our business has had its ups and downs. Don’t worry, we always make it through. But sometimes those commissions can get pretty small when business is slow.” He continued.

“My boy, my advice to you is this, save your commissions. Live on your base salary. I’m not saying not to splurge every once in a while, but be frugal.”

With that, he looked at his wrist and stood up from behind his desk.

“Now my boy, it’s time for me to head home for dinner, lock up on your way out.” He said and clapped me on the shoulder as he moved past me down the hall.

I thought long and hard about what Mr Bellows had said, and it made sense.

Meanwhile the weeks turned into months with Crystal. We were having a good time and I had seen nothing that she had done that caused me any alarm. No unexplained nights, suspicious text messages, or strange phone calls. She seemed completely normal.

We even hung out with Janet and Ben a few times at The Regulator and other places. We all got along great. All seemed perfectly normal.

Out of the blue one night I got a call from Janet. As I had said we had never been particularly close. There was an age gap difference and our family was not tight knit.

“Roger, I just wanted to tell you,” she began, “that whatever I may have said or thought about Crystal before has changed. She’s a nice person and I have never seen you happier than you are with Crystal.” She told me.

I was surprised to hear this kind of comment from Janet. Not specifically what she said, but more the depth of sincerity in her statement. Our family was never like that.

“Thanks.” I said and then paused and added. “That means a lot to me, I mean your opinion. I have to say that I do really like her.” I added.

We talked a little more and then hung up. I thought about what Janet had said. I had been with Crystal for over six months at this point. Other than some poor judgement about Darryl, I hadn’t seen anything alarming about her behavior. Janet’s words validated what I had been thinking. It was always good to get someone elses opinion too. Just to make sure you were not talking yourself into something.

This began the next chapter of my and Crystal’s relationship. A more serious, trusting phase. I was starting to fall in love.

Things were progressing, but I did note something that bothered me a little.

It was her dependence on me. She didn’t get mad, but I could tell she was unhappy when I had to work late and I couldn’t always be with her. Don’t get me wrong, I liked that she wanted me, but with my job, I couldn’t always be with her.

When I tried to explain all this she said she understood, but I could tell that maybe she really didn’t. She seemed to get restless when I wasn’t with her. Just an insecurity I guessed.

But that was a minor thing. Everything else was great. Towards the end of the year we began planning a trip to Hawaii. Neither of us had been there before. I had a good year end bonus from B&B and like Mr Bellows had told me, it’s okay to splurge every so often.

In March we flew to Maui. Crystal had flown a few times but this was my first time flying. We were both excited and after we changed planes in Seattle the five hours seemed to go by quickly.

As we de-planed my first sensation was the warm humid air. It felt so different from the crisp coolness of eastern Washington. This was all such a new experience for me. Crystal was excited too.

Our hotel was in Ka’anapali on the northwest part of the island. The town of Lahaina was close.

We stayed in a nice older hotel, The Royal Lahaina Resort. Once we got there we quickly got into our swimsuits and walked around. Crystal looked amazing in her bikini. Two small triangles covering her breasts and a triangle over her pussy. Not quite a thong, but a lot of ass was visible. Crystal had tanned a bit before we left and it looked good on her.

That night with our lights low, balcony doors opened and sheer white curtains blowing in from the tropical breeze, we made love on the bed. She was vocal and urged me on. I was fairly certain others at The Royal Lahaina resort heard Crystal and I was pretty sure she didn’t care.

Afterward we lay together tired but still excited about our trip on Maui.

“I want to make love to you every day we are here.” She quietly told me.

“At least,” I murmured back to her.

“Well I’m ready at any time.” She teased me. “But this thing.” She said while raising my flaccid penis, “looks like it’s out of commission for the moment.” She smiled and told me.

“I’ve got an idea on how we can revive it”. I told her.

“I just bet you do.” She told me

And the next thing I knew she was giving me a blow job.

Shortly after that we began round two of our love making. It was a good night.

We explored the area, ate great food, swam in the ocean, and lounged by the pool. A couple of days later we took a long and windy drive to Hana back past the airport on the wet side of Maui. Beautiful scenery along the way. It was all so exotic.

That night at dinner Crystal told me she had a surprise for me the next day. I was curious and asked what was going on. All she would say was she thought I would like it.

She told me to pack for the beach. I stuffed towels, drinks, sunscreen, a light snack, and my sunglasses in the backpack.

“I’ll navigate, you drive.” She told me.

And off we went.

We drove to the south end of the island past the town of Kihei and the luxurious resort area of Wailea. We parked in a gravel lot with lots of other cars. It must be a popular beach I thought.

The parking lot opened up to a broad sandy beach. It looked wondeerful. I started walking forward toward the ocean. It was a nice beach but I was curious why Crystal had made a big deal out of us coming here.

“Wrong way.” She told me and started walking off to the right towards a tall rock outcropping.

Okay, I thought.

We climbed up and over the outcropping and there was a beautiful smaller cove. Not as many people as the other beach, but populated.

Climbing back down on the cove side of the rock I soon realized that this beach was a bit different.

The first set of naked tits signaled the difference. I looked over at Crystal and she was smiling. Hand and hand we walked into the nudity.

I noticed a disproportionate amount of men. The majority of them were with other men, penis’s dangling. It soon was apparent that this beach was a popular place for gay men. I saw my share of topless women as well as a few totally nude women too. But overall there were more men.

“This is part one of your surprise,” Crystal told me.

“I’m surprised.” I replied.

We found a spot away from all the men with a few other couples around. I have to admit there were a good percent of the women that maybe should have left more clothes on, but there were a few quite attractive ones also.

Crystal removed her top and her pale tan line contrasted with the light brown of the rest of her skin.

“You’re going to need some sun screen in a few important places,” I told her.

She just raised her eyebrows and smiled at that comment. And then she took her bottoms off.

“This is part two of your surprise,”. She then told me as she stood completely nude in front of me, hands on hips. I noticed she got stares from many of the others at this small cove.

“Now I’m really surprised.” I said.

Obviously I had seen Crystal nude numerous times, but I had never been more turned on than seeing her now nude on this public beach.

“Come on, let’s cool off.” She said.

I watched her round naked ass as she ran toward the ocean. I noticed some of the others admiring her physique. Men and women.

I joined her, keeping my swimsuit on as we cooled off in the warm blue ocean. She gave me a look when she saw I was still clothed.

“Roger, it’s a nude beach.” She said. “That means you’re supposed to be nude!” She exclaimed.

In explanation, I pulled the front of my bathing suit away exposing my growing erection. She looked down and laughed.

“What has got you all excited?” She asked me, with a smile on her face.

I moved toward her, knee deep in the ocean, and gave her a hug my groin pressed against her naked front.

“I get it.” She laughed. “Now you better keep that thing away from me before we get kicked off the beach.” She told me and l reluctantly moved away.

Later, back up on the towels, she turned over onto her stomach and asked me to put sunscreen on her back. Now I’d done this numerous times since we had been on Maui. But never with her nude or visible to others.

I started at her shoulders and it became more like a massage, rubbing the lotion into her brown skin. I spent extra time on the white globes of her ass for two reasons. Without exposure to the sun that skin was extra susceptible to sunburn, and we didn’t want that.. The other reason was I could now fondle her naked ass in public and it was acceptable.

I guess what wasn’t quite acceptable was when my finger penetrated her lubricated pussy. I could tell she liked it, but I also noticed we were starting to attract attention. Using great discipline I forced myself to stop.

We stayed at this beach for several hours before we needed to get out of the sun. We packed up and headed to the rental car. Crystal told me this beach was called Little Beach and she had read about it in one of our Maui guide books.

After dinner that night, right at sunset we were having a nightcap on our balcony. Crystal was leaning over the rail, bent at the waist glass in hand watching the horizon. The sky was darkening near sunset. The curtain of twilight shrouded us, but it was far from pitch dark..

I stepped behind her and gave her a hug, she wiggled her ass back into me. I reached up under her light skirt and pulled her thong down. We were still somewhat visible in the twilight.

“Roger,” she half heartedly protested.

I hesitated, dropped my shorts, bunched the skirt up to her waist and guided my erection toward her pussy. There, as darkness ascended, obscured, but visible for anyone that looked in our direction, I fucked her. Her orgasm was audible but stifled. As she climaxed she dropped her nightcap glass. Fortunately it landed, unbroken on the grass three stories below. My pent up desire from all the interaction at Little Beach was finally satisfied.

It had been a good day and a good night too.

All too soon our fabulous Hawaiian vacation was over and we were flying back to the mainland. Contentedly I thought about this magical trip. As I thought about the vacation, I could not remember having a better time. Sure, Hawaii was magical but it was beyond that.

It was Crystal. She was so fun to be with and we got along so well, I couldn’t imagine being without her. That got me thinking even deeper on the subject. I was going to need to make some decisions soon.

The only real reservation I had was the gossipy stories about her younger days. Since we had been together there really hadn’t been anything to make me doubt her.

Certainly she flirted a little, but so did I. It was all, in my mind, harmless. One thing we hadn’t done, and I wasn’t sure I even wanted to do it, was discuss our individual sexual histories.

I made the conscious decision to not explore that territory. I knew enough about the younger Crystal from Janet and from all these months together I think I knew who she was.

So was I ready to make the big commitment? That was what I was trying to figure out.

One Friday night in late Spring Crystal and I walked down to The Regulator. I wouldn’t call us regulars here, but it was close and convenient. Sometimes my sister Janet and other acquaintances were there. The atmosphere was comfortable.

It seemed more active than normal and we were drinking beer and chatting.

There was this guy I knew from high school, a few years younger than me, I recognized in the loose group near us. He’d always been a loud talking mouthy guy, not quite an asshole but close.

As much as I tried to avoid it, I found myself near him and he approached me.

“Roger Winters?” He said. “Michael Stout.” He introduced himself, and thrust out his hand.

“I remember you, you were the boxer.” He said. “What are you up to these days?” He asked.

Oh great, I thought. I’m stuck with this blowhard for God knows how long.

He told me he sold insurance and asked for my business card. One of those conversations that went on and on, Stout doing almost all of the talking.

At one point Crystal walked over to where I was stuck talking to this guy. I saw his eyes track her and noticed a slight smile on his face as he noticed Crystal.

“Crystal Greer!” He exclaimed, and moved as if to hug her. Crystal moved toward me and grabbed my arm. Stout was left halfway toward her, arms slightly out, frozen awkwardly in the early stages of a hug attempt.

He looked from Crystal to me and then back. As if processing the data to understand we were together. Abruptly he moved away telling me he’d call me about my insurance needs.

“Thanks.” I told Crystal.

“What?” She said.

“Thanks for helping me get away from that guy.” I said.

“He’s kind of a jerk.” She said, and added no more explanation of her thoughts.

By the end of the night I’d forgotten about the interaction.

Another thing happened at work the following week, Mrs Wanderly, the long time receptionist, abruptly retired because of age and health reasons.

Think a taller version of Aunt Bea, from the Andy Griffith show, and that is a fair description of Mrs Wanderly.

Her singsong voice as she answered the phones was indelibly etched in my mind from hearing it so many times.

“Burton and Bellows, Mrs Wanderly speaking.” was the way she answered virtually every phone call. And then she would transfer the caller to the correct person.

And now she is gone. I thought about this for a few minutes and then I thought of Crystal. Her waitress job was a dead end and she would have more normal hours at B&B. Certainly Mrs Wanderly’s job couldn’t pay much but I think it would be an improvement for Crystal.

I called Crystal and she seemed interested. I talked to Ted Bellows and he was open to the idea. Crystal interviewed and by Monday she was the new receptionist at Burton and Bellows. Crystal was happy and I knew she could do the job.

By this time Crystal was virtually living at my house. She still had the apartment, paid her share, but she was never there. It didn’t make sense for her to keep it, but, if she officially moved in, this would certainly signal a deepening of our relationship.

Why not just get married I thought. I couldn’t imagine my life without Crystal. Content with our relationship, I began looking for rings.

The following Tuesday at the end of the day I reviewed my emails. These were normally customer requests and miscellaneous information from the office.

There was one strange email. I quickly realized it was from that jerk Michael Stout, the guy I’d bumped into at The Regulator some weeks ago.

‘Hey pal, I noticed you hanging with Crystal Greer. She is one hot chick. I thought you’d appreciate this. Let’s talk about your insurance sometime.’ It was signed, MS. And there was an attachment.

It was a video. Oh great, I thought.

I opened it on my iPhone. It was an amateur video. It looked like a group of young people in an apartment or condo. People sitting on couchs, a couple of girls dancing, at least topless, and finally another couple naked and kissing, looking like they were about to fuck. There was some crappy music in the background and the tinny sound of individual voices, shouting, yelling, and laughing.

It was hard to see details on this small screen. But, I was pretty sure Crystal was in the video. I was also pretty sure she didn’t have her top on.

Driving home the good feeling I had established about Crystal’s morals were now shaken. I was also pissed at that asshole Stout. If I happened to run into him again and he said one word to me, I guarantee, I would beat the shit out of him.

Crystal was at my house when I got home. Very quickly she realized I was not in a good mood. She asked what was wrong, I begged off and told her I had some work to do. I went into my home office, closed the door, pulled up the asshole’s e-mail and watched it on the desktop’s larger screen.

What I saw was four guys and probably the cameraman and four girls. One was Crystal. I could tell it was not recent, she looked slightly younger and her hair was different. The scene was of a party that got a little crazy. Other than Crystal and Stout, I didn’t recognize anyone. The video was about eight minutes long.

One of the guys and one of the girls were about to have sex, the video did not show that exact act, but it was close. One other girl looked like she was completely nude and drunk. And then there was Crystal and another girl dancing topless. Crystal looked drunk.

At one point one of the guys got up and tried to dance and fondle Crystal and the other girl, who I have to admit had spectacular breasts. If I wasn’t so pissed off, I probably would have appreciated the view more.

Though no one likes to see their potential life partner topless and dancing in front of other guys, I didn’t see her doing anything with any of the guys or even very interested in any of them. I watched the video three times, stopping to analyze it frequently. She looked more innocent than the others.

But I was still pissed. Was this just the tip of the iceberg of her sexual wildness? Just as I was thinking I needed some answers there was a tap on the door.

“Roger?” She said, “are you okay? I made some dinner. Are you hungry?” She quietly asked.

“Crystal,” I answered. “Come in. There’s something you should see.” I told her.

Tentatively she opened the door, eyes on mine, gauging my mood. I turned the screen to her and hit the play arrow.

It took her several seconds to understand what she was supposed to be watching. When she finally recognized what she was seeing her hands flew to her mouth in astonishment.

“What, where did you get this?” She asked.

Then she turned back to the scene playing out on the screen. Hand covering her open mouth she studied the video. Her head started slowly shaking back and forth as if she could not believe what was happening.

“Roger,” She said. “What is this? Why do you have this?” She asked.

“Not sure if that is the correct question that should be asked at this time.” I said. “I think more importantly I’d like to know, when did this happen, why did this happen, and how many times did things like this happen?” I asked.

Crystal stared at me, hearing my words, my accusations. Eyes wide she stared at me. Her tears streamed down her face, surprised at my harshness.

When I did not move to comfort her, this surprised her too.

“Roger, I…. ” She stammered.

“I want to know,” I said. “What happened in this video? I also want to know how often this type of thing happened, and what other things like this have happened.” I coldly asked her.

She stared at me and then hung her head. She quietly wept for a few minutes. I sat motionless in my office waiting for her explanations.

Finally through tear clouded eyes she looked up at me.

“I was eighteen, just out of high school, and me and a couple of other girls got invited to Paco’s timeshare in Cabo.” She told me.

Paco was this douche kid whose parents had money. I had a brief memory of him having parties in Mexico. Vaguely I recalled Stout hanging out with this guy.

“Once we got there the guys got all physical. I never slept with any of them.” She told me. “But we did get kind of crazy a few times.” She told me as she nodded toward the computer screen.

“Didn’t sleep with them,” I said. “But you did strip in front of them.” I accused her.

“Shari and I only went topless. The others were a little wilder.” She told me and looked up with a hopeful look in her eyes.

I was still pissed. Pissed off at a couple things.

Number one, I was planning on marrying this woman. How many other videos are circulating around? Number two, could I trust her? This was pretty slutty behavior. And finally number three, when we went to the nude beach in Hawaii, I felt this was a special gift for me. Sure others saw her, but she was exposing herself for me, I thought. Now I see that maybe she did this a lot more than what I thought.

“I don’t know Crystal,” I said. “I’m going to have to think about all this.” I added and shut down the desktop.

For the rest of the evening she apologized and wept. As much as I wanted to hold her and tell her all was going to be okay, I didn’t. I had to think through this incident, and our future together.

That night I slept on the couch. I left early the next morning heading to Western Montana for my sales calls. Throughout my workday, I didn’t speak to Crystal. But I did think about her. I came to the conclusion that for us to move forward I needed to know about her history. Because of comments I had heard I had avoided that discussion with her. Tonight we would need to have that talk.

The only problem was, she didn’t come home that night.

I knew she had given up her apartment and her roommates had moved out too. She no longer had family living locally, and I didn’t know of any particularly close friends. I guess I’ll just wait for her to call, I thought.

But I received no phone calls. I sent her a text. ‘just checking in’. Nothing.

I then started thinking about my life with her and how things would be like without her. Without her my life would have a gigantic hole in it. I guess we just needed to have a long discussion about a lot of things.

I decided to call my sister.

“Janet,” I said. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something….”

“Roger.” She interrupted.

“Janet, just hang on a second, I want to tell you…. ”

“Roger,” She began.

“It’s Crystal!” I said. “We had a fight. She’s not home.” I told her.

“I know.” Janet said slowly. “She’s here.” My sister told me. “Well actually she’s not here now. She ran to the store. She’ll be back in a half hour or so.”

And then my sister and I had a discussion. A discussion about Crystal, about the party in Cabo, about Paco, Stout and that crowd. And then finally a discussion about my future or more specifically, Crystal and my future.

I was shocked to hear that my sister went on one of these Mexican party junkets with those guys. I had no idea. I told her I didn’t want to hear her details. She told me she wouldn’t tell me anything anyway. But she did say other than a little tit flashing, not much else happened. At least on her trip.

Somehow knowing my sister had done this too, I felt slightly better. We talked a little more and finally I asked her to have Crystal call me when she got back.

“Tell her I’ve calmed down, and we need to talk.” I said to Janet.

Later that night Crystal did call and when I finally got her to quit apologizing we had a long talk. I learned that she had been with five guys sexually before me.

When I reciprocated and gave her my history, I had more than double the amount of sexual partners she did. I started feeling like a hypocrite.

We talked long and late and finally I got her to stop crying. I think things are going to be okay. This was a discussion at some point we were going to have to have. Finally I came to the conclusion that Crystal had a fairly normal past and nothing that she had done was all that bad. In fact my sexual history was far more promiscuous than hers. It wasn’t even close.

For a moment I thought I might actually thank that asshole Stout, the guy who sent me the video. After a quick second thought, nope, I’d probably still beat the shit out of him if I saw him again.

Life went on. And I think our relationship was stronger after this last ordeal. Three months later I did propose. I asked my friend Oscar to be my best man. My sister Janet would be the maid of honor.

One of the things Mr Bellows did for us was have a prenuptial agreement prepared by his attorney. He explained it was a way to protect both of us and it was most likely never to be enforced. Neither Crystal or I understood much of what Mr Bellow’s attorney said to us, we just signed where we were told. I trusted Arthur Bellows and Crystal trusted me.

It was not a big event. Neither of us were from large families. Her mother lived in Colorado and she had an older brother who was in the Army that flew in. We had a handful of friends and almost the entire employee list from B&B, where we both worked. To my surprise Graham McKenzie flew in for the event.

We honeymooned in Hawaii, this time trying the Big Island of Hawaii. We had a great time enjoying the beaches, the ocean, the jungles and the waterfalls. No nude beaches, but plenty of nudity back in the hotel room. It was wonderful.

Once we were back home our lives together developed a nice rhythm. Crystal was doing well as the receptionist at B&B, occasionally helping out on other office functions.

My territory continued to grow. I was now second in sales most months, to Kevin, our other local guy. Louisa who was in our southern market would occasionally surpass me for second, it was healthy competition.

I took Mr Bellows’ advice and saved almost all my commissions. He gave me the name of a financial advisor who helped me with my investments. My little nest egg was not so little anymore.

One day I received an email from Mr Bellows concerning Cedar School. Cedar School was an educational experience put on by one of the big mills in Western Canada. We would fly into Vancouver on a Monday and then have three solid days of product education, flying home on Friday. There would be a number of people going from different companies. I was the only one going from B&B.

I was excited to tell Crystal about Mr Bellows sending me to Cedar School. When I did tell her, I could tell she was not that excited. Hmm?

“So how long will you be gone?” She asked.

I re-explained the schedule to her. When she was abnormally quiet I questioned her further. Finally she opened up to me.

“I just hate it when you’re not here.” She told me, and then added, “I don’t like being alone. It reminds me of when I was growing up. No one was ever home. I hated that.”

I assured her that it would only be for a few days. I was excited to go and I soon forgot about any of Crystal’s misgivings.

Tuesday morning our group all met in the assigned conference room. I noticed three people at a table at the front of the room. A large bald man, a younger guy maybe five years older than me, and finally a dignified looking older gentleman with a full head of snow white hair.

As we settled in the older gentlemen addressed us.

“Good morning everyone,” he greeted us with a trace of some type of accent I could not place.

“My name is Ian McKenzie. My grandfather started Canadian-Pacific Forest Products and I am proud to see our business continue to grow.” Ian stated.

“The training will be led by Bruce Johnston,” the larger man waved to us as a way of introduction.

“And finally your host while you are here is my son, Graham.” He said. “I hope you all learn a lot. If there is anything I may do to make your visit more pleasant, do not hesitate to let me know.” Ian concluded. With a small formal bow to the group, Ian McKenzie left the room.

At lunchtime I found myself at a table with Graham McKenzie. My initial impression was that he was an arrogant little asshole.

That first night a bunch of the cedar school students went out to the bars in Vancouver. I stayed in and reviewed the material we had been given that day.

Wednesday morning I noticed a few of the attendees looked pretty rough, hungover looking. I was glad I had stayed in.

At lunch Graham McKenzie approached.

“We missed you last night mate,” he addressed me.

“Oh, yeah, I wanted to go over the cedar material.” I told him.

“You’ve got to give your mind a break every now and then.” He told me. “Maybe you can join us tonight?” He asked.

“Maybe,” was my reply. I stayed in on Wednesday night too.

When I spoke to Crystal she was fine, but not as enthusiastic as she normally was. My questions were met with one word answers. I couldn’t quite tell if she was just sad because I wasn’t there, or was she mad at me for some reason? I let it go. We’d get through this.

Thursday morning was a repeat of Wednesday with people looking hungover. This time one guy rolled in about 9:30 AM looking like he had just woken up, and another guy from Oregon never made it. I was glad I had a clear head.

Thursday at lunch Graham sat at my table directly across from me. The more we talked the less I disliked him. He was funny, a bit of an arrogant loudmouth, but he did it with a disarming charm. This time when he asked I promised to go have a drink with the group after cedar school ended.

We met at the hotel but Graham soon had us in some bar in the more run down part of downtown Vancouver, The Timbers.

It was a mixed bag of professionals from the nearby office buildings and blue collar working men. We found a spot and settled in. It was just north of being called a dump, but was crowded and active for some reason.

I found myself at the corner of the bar with Graham and a few others. Graham was pounding down the drinks with what appeared to be little effect on his sobriety.

I noticed right behind Graham two large working men in plaid wool coats sitting at the bar. By this time The Timbers was packed with little free space.

Graham was telling one of his outrageous stories and he made a gesture while holding his glass and his drink splashed onto the face of one of the large men sitting behind him. Graham did not even notice and kept on with his story.

The big guy looked angry. He grabbed Graham and spun him around. Graham, not realizing what had happened, was confused and looked a bit angry at this intrusion himself.

“Hey pal, get your hands off of me.” Graham told the big guy.

“Fuck you, you little shit. You spilled your fucking drink all over me.” The big guy said.

At this point the guy still was gripping Graham’s shoulder. Graham made a twisting move to remove the guy’s hand and during that, he elbowed the big guy.

The big guy stood up and shoved Graham. I jumped in and thought, maybe if we buy them a round we can diffuse this. Most of these barroom disagreements were just accidents and can easily blow over.

Not this one. The combination of Graham’s inability to back down and these two big guys desire to pick a fight was the perfect storm. Graham told them we would settle this outside.

I thought, oh no, here we go again.

We found ourselves, with the usual crowd looking for some cheap entertainment in the back alley behind The Timbers. Somehow through the shoving and anger I was now paired off with the other big guy. I didn’t want to fight him..

“Hey listen,” I said to the other guy, a big slightly overweight redhead with a red beard.

And while my defenses were down he hit me. His punch grazed my forehead as I ducked. It still connected and I saw stars for a second.

My instincts kicked in and I moved away. I needed a moment to clear the cobwebs. I circled the redhead staying out of range of his clubbing attempts.

I watched him and immediately understood something about him. He was a brawler. Not like Darryl who had no real fighting skill, I guessed Red had been in his share of fights. He knew nothing of boxing rules or strategy, what he wanted to do was get in tight and do damage based on brute strength.

His hands were up tight to his face, elbows tucked and he kept moving forward. He was strong, but slow. I snapped off left jabs peppering his face. These would slow him but he would continue toward me relentlessly. It was not long before I could see him getting tired. His hands did not stay up quite as high.

So far, other than his first punch, he had done no damage. His nose and right eye were red from my jabs. I hit him twice in his large gut. That stopped him, and then I hit him with a left-right combo in the face. He reached to grab me and I moved away snapping a hard left to the side of his jaw. That stunned him.

I glanced over to see Graham taking a bit of a beating from the other guy. I needed to end this with Red quickly I thought.

Another left-right to the head, and then a combo to the gut. He was on the edge, no defenses up, standing glaze-eyed. One final left-right, and then one more right and Red fell to his hands and knees, not quite out but close.

Immediately I moved to help Graham. I yelled at the other guy to stop and he turned and threw a roundhouse at me that I ducked. I hit him twice in the face, that stunned him, and then Graham kicked him in the balls. He collapsed.

With both guys on the ground, for the moment we were okay. Who knew if they had more friends nearby. Waiting around was no strategy. We weren’t sure if the cops were coming, a few of their buddies, or the Royal Canadian Mounted Police for that matter. It was time to leave.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said and our entire cedar school group ran back down the street, led by a laughing and bleeding Graham McKenzie.

We ended back at the hotel bar, laughing and telling stories of the fight. Graham eventually got drunk and swore a lifelong friendship to me.

Little did I know at that moment how important that friendship would be.

— — — — — — — — — —

Life went on and in my mind it was a good life. Crystal and I were having fun, traveling a little and for the most part things were good. No scandalous ghosts appeared out of her past. She did not like it when I was occasionally overnight or if I was on the road late, but I felt we could work through those small things.

Work for both of us was good. Crystal’s job was not hard and she seemed to thrive in the structure of having set expectations and reporting to a superior. She was not great on ideas, but did what was asked of her quite well.

My sales had grown. My commissions were up. I did part of the local area, the smaller customers, and also went east into Idaho and the extreme western part of Montana. Kevin Mills had the big accounts in the local market. Kevin and I weren’t particularly close, but we were certainly not unfriendly.

As Mr Bellows had instructed me, I saved my commissions.

My friendship with Graham McKenzie grew. The entire experience during Cedar School cemented the relationship. He turned out to be a great guy. Can-PAC was a major supplier of cedar for B&B and my close friendship with Graham helped the relationship between our two companies.

Things seemed to be all okay. And then the rumors began.

Arthur Bellows had to be in his late sixties. He was at the office every day and quite active in the business. But more and more of the responsibilities were being shifted to Mr Bellows son, Ted.

Ted was a smart man, late 30’s I’d guess, but fairly introverted. Though I was confident he understood the business, he certainly didn’t have the interpersonal skills his father did. That was important in our business.

There was talk of Arthur Bellows retiring. Once, when he and I were alone talking, as we occasionally did, I asked him about his future.

“Oh I don’t know Roger,” he answered me. “I love this business, I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t come into the office every day.” He added.

Not a specific answer, but somewhat reassuring.

As time went on, it seemed like Mr Bellows was around less. And the rumors continued.

And then we had the call on Tuesday night. Company meeting scheduled for Wednesday morning. All very mysterious.

— — — — — — — — — —

“Everyone,” Gordon Dobler, with a large phony looking grin on his face, began. “It is my great pleasure to be associated with this fine company. I am from a different industry altogether. I will depend on your knowledge and experience to quickly help me get up to speed on our business here.” He went on, spreading his arms in an encompassing gesture.

“When Tab and I began discussing this situation I immediately had some ideas to improve business.” Dobler paced, with a serious expression knitting his brow. “I have known Tab for a number of years and he knows what I have accomplished in my career. What we discovered was that with some of the more modern sales strategies I will employ, the business at B&B will grow.” He stated.

I clandestinely pushed a note in front of Marcia. ‘Tab?’ I wrote. This Dobler was referring to someone named ‘Tab’.

Marcia casually looked at my note, paused, and wrote, ‘Theodore, Arthur, Bellows’. TAB.

Tab? I thought. I’d never heard anyone call him that before. It sounded like some fraternity-born nickname.

I did not have a good feeling about any of this.

Dobler blathered on for another fifteen minutes. He constantly injected little egocentric comments of all he had accomplished. Towards the merciful end he started talking about a new software based sales reporting system. It was called salesplan.com.

We were all going to be trained on it soon. Dobler tried to paint a positive picture of salesplan, but it was clear to me what this was. This was micromanagement.

Over the next few weeks I tried to keep a positive attitude about things, but no doubt about it, things at B&B we’re changing quickly. And then we had the salesplan training.

Essentially we had to write a small report after each sales call. We had to answer a set of questions for every call, some not even relevant to the particular customer. And then we had metrics. We needed a certain amount of ‘sales successes’ per week. A certain amount of ‘prospect calls’ per week, and a certain amount of ‘conversions’ per week. And on and on.

It was going to be time consuming busy-work. I dreaded these new changes.

When I talked to Crystal about it, she thought things were fine. In fact she spoke complementarity about Dobler. I tried to explain how much more useless work this salesplan program would be for me.

“Oh just give it time Roger.” She said, “I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

About four weeks later Dobler hired a new guy. Darin Barnes. Apparently he and Dobler had worked together at some previous company. A little younger than Dobler and ‘Tab’, but same frat boy look. Stylish clothes, sharp haircut and a brash confidence about himself. He was going to be the sales and marketing specialist. A new position Dobler came up with.

Dobler had Barnes travel with me for a few days. I tried to explain about our business and teach him about different building materials. He seemed a bit bored by the topics, and quite frankly, bored with me.

Once again Crystal had positive things to say about Barnes too.

Then there was a new company wide email sent from Gordon Dobler. The email described an exciting new structure within B&B. More updates to come within the next several weeks.

Where I was apprehensive, Crystal was excited. I was getting the feeling Dobler did not like me or value what I did for the company. On the other hand he seemed to like Crystal quite well. I’d need to keep my eye on that. Meanwhile My salesplan rating was less than average, even though my sales were up.

One other thing, early on, when he learned Crystal was my wife, he acted genuinely surprised. Looking at me with an expression of puzzlement. And though I was graded through some sort of elaborate salesplan calculation ‘BELOW AVERAGE’, Crystal was getting great praise from Dobler.

I missed Arthur Bellows. He seemed to be in the office less and less these days. I was hoping to have a talk with him at some point, but I would have to be careful about the way I questioned the company’s direction. After all, his son was in charge.

And then something odd happened. All of a sudden Dobler was being overly nice to me. Little compliments, acknowledgment of my successes, and a marked improvement on my salesplan grading. I was now ABOVE AVERAGE.

One night I asked Crystal about anything she may have observed that had changed around the office.

“No, I haven’t noticed anything new.” She told me, “except Gordon has changed things and there is a more professional atmosphere around the office. He told me I was getting a new office chair too. He is doing a good job.” She added with a smile.

I watched her as she talked about ‘Gordon’. I could tell she admired him. Huh, I thought, I’ll really need to keep my eyes on this.

The next week we received a memo about the restructure. It would be unveiled to us at the Friday sales meeting. I received a separate email from Dobler with a meeting request for Wednesday at four PM.

A little before four I pulled into the office and saw Crystal at the receptionists desk. She looked happy.

“Hi,” I said. “What’s got you in such a good mood?” I asked.

“I’m not supposed to say yet,” she told me, “but…. ”

And at that moment the phone rang for her. I waited for a few minutes, but she was tied up with the call. I walked down to Dobler’s office, knocked, and walked in.

“Roger, first off I want to compliment you on your work of late.” Dobler told me. “You are embracing the tools of salesplan and understanding how you can use these tools to help your business. Your sales increase shows the results. Congratulations.” He said.

The reality is I was doing nothing different than I had ever done. I was just getting up an hour earlier every day to get their busywork out of the way. Still getting these compliments, I hate to say, felt good.

“Roger, we have a real opportunity for growth. I have watched you and you have a unique ability to create solid relationships with new customers quickly.” He said.

No false modesty here, he was right. Somehow my honest humble approach seemed to work with most prospective customers. Plus I worked my ass off.

Dobler had a plan. He wanted to expand east into Montana. He thought that we could service that market and wanted to increase our geographical footprint.

“Here’s my idea.” He began. “You establish a small branch in Missoula, get our business profitable in Western Montana. After that we’ll hire someone in Central Montana, get that established and eventually continue moving East.”

He said all this with great energy. I had to admit, it made sense. But he kept staring at me, gauging my reaction. My suspicions were way up. Ultimately, I was quite curious how this ‘plan’ was going to impact me.

“What we’ll do is rent a small apartment in Missoula.” He said. “You will be over there most of the week. Home on weekends.”

I started to ask him something. He held his hand out in a ‘stop’ gesture and began shaking his head side to side.

“I know what you’re going to ask,” He interjected. “The company will pay 100% of your food and rent expenses.” He smiled at me.

That wasn’t what I was going to ask.

“But what about my house here, and Crystal?” I asked, not specifically to him.

“Rog, don’t worry,” he once again interjected. “There is a plan for Crystal too. And I did not mention this, but once we get the new people up in Central and Eastern Montana you’ll get a percent of their commissions too.” He told me with a broad smile.

And then he handed me a document labeled: RESTRUCTURE ROGER WINTERS..

“I know this is a lot to digest. Read through this document and we’ll talk about it more.” He said to me, and stood. “This is all very exciting Roger, and you are a big part of the new plan.”

With that, he shook my hand, and I left.

It was after five o clock and Crystal was already gone by the time my meeting was over. I had a lot to think about.

My initial impulse was that I didn’t really want this big change in my life right now. On the other hand, it was a great opportunity for me at B&B. And the money, with the added commissions would be great. Crystal and I had talked about moving to Montana at some point. I just didn’t think it would be this soon.

When I got home Crystal was still in a good mood, just like at the office.

“Roger, I’m so excited. I’ve got to tell you about my new job!” She clapped her hands together, bouncing with excitement.

She then told me about her exciting news.

“I’m being promoted.” Crystal excitedly told me. “I will be the new sales and marketing coordinator.” She said.

She went on to say that this is a new position created by Gordon Dobler. She will work directly with Gordon and Darin Barnes to create promotions, assist with customer events, process promotional credits, etc.

“He said I’ll be his right hand man, or person I guess,” she giggled.

I was unsure how I felt about all this. So far I’d said nothing.

“And,” She added. “I’m getting a raise! They’re going to hire a new receptionist and as soon as I train her I will start. I am so excited!” She told me.

I tried to be excited for her, but I had the feeling that this may not end well. I said nothing of these thoughts at this time to Crystal. I asked her innocent sounding questions about the new job trying to understand the situation a little more.

Bottom line was I didn’t trust Dobler.

After a while I told her about the new position that Dobler wanted me to take. The Montana territory. I knew how much she disliked it when I was gone. I truly thought that she would either veto the idea or want to come with me immediately and move to Montana.

I was surprised at her reaction.

“Gordon told me a little about this,” she said. “It will be hard having you gone so much, but I understand. When we talked about it Gordon said I’d be plenty busy and that I wouldn’t have time to be lonely.” She added.

A couple of things bothered me about all this. Number one was that she was talking to Dobler about my future without me knowing it. Number two that she was going to be so busy helping Dobler that she won’t miss me. Even though I never would want Crystal to be unhappy, there was a part of me that liked the fact that she missed me so much when I was gone.

We continued to talk about all these changes. Where Crystal was excited and confident in Dobler’s plan for B&B, I was uncomfortable with the rapid changes. And I didn’t trust Dobler.

Later that night I tried to call Mr Bellows. I knew he was on a trip with his wife in their motorhome. The voicemail picked up immediately as if he was not in any cell range. I left a message asking for him to call me when he could.

The Friday meeting was moved to four PM. At the meeting the full plan was laid out with me moving to Montana. I was now the Territory Manager for Montana. Kevin’s territory would stay the same. He moved Darin Barnes into my old territory. And then he outlined the changes for some of our more remote Territory Managers.

At five o’clock we all went around the corner to this little dive bar called the Tiki Hut. Cheap framed tropical pictures on bamboo mat walls. Exotic drinks served in plastic coconuts. That type of place.

Dobler was treating this like a celebration. Crystal, now part of the sales team, was with us and so was the new receptionist. Her name was Julie, but she told everyone to call her Jules.

Jules was a fair looking dark haired woman, maybe a few rough years older than me. She had one pronounced physical feature. She had big breasts.

She was one of those women that wore her tits as a badge of honor. Low cut tops, tight shirts. Like the prow of a ship her boobs led the way as she moved. I had seen her type.

At one point Dobler grabbed my elbow and steered me away from the group.

“Roger,” He said. “You never formally accepted the position as Territory Manager, Montana.”

I told him I was still thinking about it.

“Roger, I need to know if you are on board.” He told me, a little more serious now.

It was decision time. I liked the idea of opening a new market, and the idea of having people reporting to me and earning commission on their sales was appealing. I would miss Crystal short term, but eventually we would both move permanently to Montana. I liked that idea too.

“One other thing I did not mention was that your base salary increases also.” He said and then he told me how much.

After hearing the pay increase, I thought about it. It was a big number. With mixed feelings I told Dobler I would accept the new position.

.Dobler shook my hand and congratulated me. For some reason I was not specifically reassured by his congratulations.

Later that evening at one point I was at the bar by myself, getting a drink. Across the bar I saw Dobler standing alone. I then saw Crystal walking to the restroom. I watched her ass as she moved, it was an involuntary reaction for me.

I then noticed Dobler observing the same view. He then called out something to Crystal, I was too far away to hear what he said. But I did see her look back over her shoulder and give him a look. A familiar look, nearly an intimate look. I trusted Crystal, but I was going to have to watch things.

I began travelling to Montana weekly.

I would leave Monday morning early, work all week in the new territory. On Fridays I would work my way back west, normally getting home Friday evening about six o’clock.

Those Friday nights we normally spent at home fucking. If we were going out it would normally be on Saturday. Friday’s we made up for lost time.

I was a little surprised that the sadness and bad moods that we had experienced before when I was gone were for the most part absent. Now she was happier, but it seemed a little odd that the strong sentiments about me being gone were so diminished.

Because we worked at the same company a lot of our conversations included work related talk. Conversations about business as well as the interpersonal gossip that any business tends to manufacture.

Crystal had nothing but positive things to say about Dobler. She was buying into all his talk about ‘modernizing’ the company and building this business with a big picture approach. I think our business was growing through a lot of hard work from Kevin, myself and others. I saw little that Dobler or Barnes did that affected much of our growth.

It also sounded like Crystal had found a new friend in Jules. They had lunch together a few times per week and occasionally would go shopping or get a drink together after work.

I wasn’t specifically opposed to this friendship, but from what I knew of Jules, which I admit was not that much, I wasn’t sure she was the best influence for Crystal.

I would normally call Crystal when I was driving back to the small rented apartment. She was usually driving home at this time and it was a good opportunity to get caught up.

And then a kind of pattern began happening. I would call her around five thirty and she wouldn’t answer. An hour or so later she would call back. With an explanation that she’d been with Jules or working late.

One evening after she called back I dug a little deeper. She had said she had been out with Jules.

“Doing what?” I asked.

“We just had a quick drink after work.” She told me.

“Where?” I asked.

“We were at the Tiki Hut, you know right by the office.” She said.

“Who else was there?” I asked.

“Just a few people from work.” She said.

“Who?” I inquired.

“I don’t know, just some of the office people.” She said.

“Were Barnes and Dobler there?” I asked.

“I don’t know, maybe, yeah I think so.” She said, “What’s with all the questions?” She asked.

And then we drifted into this argument. Why didn’t I like Gordon? What was I accusing her of doing? Why didn’t I like Jules? Didn’t I trust her? And on and on. The conversation went south quickly.

Later that same week I received three separate unexpected phone calls.

The first was from Mr Bellows, senior. I had called him weeks ago before the reorganization. He was traveling with his wife. At the time I wanted to discuss the changes going on at B&B, and specifically how my job would change.

He apologized about the delay in calling back, some type of phone problem. He asked how things were going and I told him. Other than a potential growing problem with Crystal, things were actually going quite well. My business in Montana was starting slowly but I could tell it was going to be good.

I told him all this, omitting the details on my relationship with Crystal.

“Well my boy, if there is ever anything I can do for you, be sure to let me know.” He said to me as he ended the call.

The next was from one of my old customers, North Idaho Lumber. The owner called me and basically complained about Darin Barnes, the sales and marketing expert that Dobler had assigned to my old sales territory.

“We’ve only seen the new guy once since you were the Territory Manager.” He told me. “Roger, you did a great job and we buy a lot from B&B, but we never see the guy and we’re starting to buy from the competition. I felt I owed it to you to let you know.”

I thanked him. I was unclear what to do with this information.

The other phone call was from Graham McKenzie, my friend from Canadian Pacific Forest Products. We chatted for several minutes, Graham doing most of the talking. Finally he got to the point.

“You’re the first person I’ve spoken to about this mate, but your purchases are way off what they should be.” Graham told me. “Everywhere else demand is up, but in your market we’re in the red. It won’t happen right away, but if things don’t change we’ll have to start selling to one of your competitors.” He said.

I told him my territory was going to grow and not to worry, our business would bounce back. He sounded unconvinced as we eventually ended the call.

Once again I was unsure what to do with this information. Our supply of lumber from Can-PAC was critical to the success of the company. If one of our competitors were to get the line that would really hurt our business.

Meanwhile things with Crystal and I continued to not get resolved. Our Friday nights weren’t the sexual reunions they had been at first. I found myself leaving on Monday mornings unsatisfied with our connection.

That following week in Montana I thought a lot about our relationship. I thought that us not really living together was the main problem. I decided to ask Crystal to come live with me full time. We could rent our house in the city and find a house to buy near Missoula. The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that this was the right decision.

I never mentioned these thoughts to Crystal when we talked during the week. I really wanted to have that discussion in person. Driving home on Friday I was really looking forward to trying to recapture the intimacy of our marriage. I missed the way things used to be with us.

There was just one problem. She wasn’t there when I got home on Friday.

At first I thought maybe her car was in the shop or something. But when I entered the house it had that unoccupied feel. After a quick inspection I called Crystal.

“Where are you?” I asked, as she answered. I could hear the familiar sounds of a bar in the background.

“Oh, shit, Roger!” She replied. “Wow, what time is it? I’ll be home in a few minutes.” She told me.

I hadn’t said a word beyond my initial inquiry. Beyond the sounds of the bar there was something else I think I heard in the background over the phone. I was pretty sure I heard Dobler in the background.

I was steamed but I was going to try to keep my cool. After all, I did have the entire idea of Crystal moving with me to Montana to discuss.

While I waited I went to take the clothes from my suitcase to the laundry and stow my luggage. When I bent down to put my suitcase under the bed I noticed something. I wasn’t sure what I had found at first, but then I saw it.

It was a single man’s dark sock. I checked and it wasn’t one of mine.

A bunch of thoughts were going through my head. I hadn’t felt like this since I’d seen the video of teenage Crystal in Mexico. I thought back to my original strategy with Crystal. Trust but verify. I would revive that strategy. I stashed the sock in a zip lock and put it on a high shelf in the garage. Just then Crystal arrived.

She was apologetic and said the time had gotten away from her. There was a group from work going over a promotion they were working on. I was outwardly calm, but inside I was fuming. I recalled my training from Roosevelt McBee, stay calm, study your opponent. No word about the sock or any of my growing suspicions.

As she was talking I made a decision. I wasn’t going to bring up the subject of her moving with me to Montana. At this point with my mistrust, I needed to know if something was going on behind my back before we did anything.

Later that evening Crystal took a shower and came out in just a towel. There was this game we played. She’d be wearing only a towel and then get a corner stuck in a drawer, or caught on a hook. The towel would then fall off her and she would stand naked, act embarrassed, and make a comical attempt to cover up. I would then grab her, her half heartedly protesting. Then we would fuck.

It was something fun that we liked. This time after coming into the living room and losing the towel, for the first time in our relationship I didn’t react to the play. She stood naked for a moment and looked at me puzzled.

“Um, Roger, I dropped the towel.” She said, “I don’t have any clothes on. I’m naked and vulnerable. Are you going to take advantage of me?” She asked me.

I was tempted. She really did turn me on and I’d always liked the towel game, but then I thought of that single man’s sock. It was like someone threw a bucket of ice water on me.

“Sorry Crystal, not tonight.” I said. “I guess I’m just not in the mood.” I added.

Turning her down like this was a first for me.

She stood naked staring at me, not comprehending my behavior. After a minute, she grabbed her towel,and stomped off to the bedroom. By the time I went to bed she was asleep.

Nonetheless it was not a great weekend. There was no intimacy sexual or otherwise. Actually there was very little conversation. A few times I saw her engaged in long text sessions with someone. It was with relief that I left early Monday morning for Montana.

I made two phone calls on my drive. They were to the two people I trusted most in the world. My sister Janet and my good friend Oscar. I asked them both individually to check my house this week to check to see if Crystal was alone at night. I thought of that dark sock. I asked Janet to check Monday and Wednesday and Oscar to check Tuesday and Thursday.

I didn’t want anyone to get suspicious with the same car driving by every night.

“Roger,” Janet said. “Of course I’ll do it for you, but what’s going on?” She asked.

I told her about the sock. Though there could be a perfectly explainable reason for the sock, neither of us could figure out what that explanation was.

Oscar agreed, no explanation necessary.

That evening after work I had a life changing experience. Though I did not know it at the time.

One of the things I did while living alone in the small apartment in Montana was go on runs in the evening. It was a way to clear my head and get exercise all at the same time. The runs were therapeutic. There were several different trails I ran. I mixed them up for variety.