Mm.. Caught In The Act Of Betrayal

BARRON PHARMACEUTICALS INCORPORATION
Greenwich Village
Manhattan, New York

Michael and his staff stood in the staff break room watching the interview with the proprietor of Pleasure Escort Service.

“Are you telling the viewing population that Miss Wockivoi was never employed as a call girl?”

“Yes and No.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Yes, she was employed here under different terms.”

“Was any sex involved?”

“Never.”

“Did she date affluent men?”

“She provided customary companionship, no money was exchanged. Miss. Wockivoi is a strong-willed individual who has always gone out of her way to help less disserving people. As alumni of Princeton myself, I can appreciate her dedication in hiring her for the reasons for which I did.”

The reporter turned to the camera.

“This is Sherry, from Behind the Scene.”

The station went to a commercial break.

Everyone looked at each other and then dispersed.

Michael’s secretary walked up to him.

“Mr. Barron, you have an unexpected visitor who refuses to wait in the reception area.”

“Have my father handle it.”

“She was…”

“She?”

“Yes sir.”

MICHAEL BARRON JR. OFFICE
CHAIRMAN AND CEO

Artesia admired several college degrees hanging on Michael’s wall.

Why didn’t she keep driving to get far away from New York?

She walked around his desk and took a seat in a leather wing-back chair.

Michael twisted the doorknob and opened the door to his office. He found Artesia’s eyes. He closed the door.

A vision of loveliness he wanted to scream out.

“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise.”

“As if you didn’t know I wouldn’t come.”

Artesia stood and walked around Michael’s desk. She made her way in front of him.

“Why Michael, why would you deliberately hurt me?”

He saw the hurt in her eyes.

Michael grabbed Artesia’s hand. He walked them over to a couch.

“Sit.”

Artesia stalled.

“Please.”

Artesia sat.

Michael sat near her.

“Artesia, I apologize, I never meant for this to befall you.”

“Is this what you call, making me pay.”

Michael looked into her innocent eyes.

“No, I spoke out of character.”

He moved a loose curl obscuring one of her eyes.

“Why when I’m near you, I lose all train of thought? You have my heart beating. I’m totally lost around you.”

Artesia placed her hand over Michael’s chest to confirm his theory. He covered her hand.

“Please say you’ll forgive me for this.”

He lifted her hand and kissed her inner palm.

Artesia drew her hand back.

“Michael, you not only brought shame upon me, but my family.”

“I swear, I’m in the midst of restoring your family’s good name.”

Artesia sighed.

Two men she was attracted too. Both with unusual circumstances surrounding them.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

“Michael, you placed me out on Front Street, and then you have the audacity to...”

Michael leaned over and captured Artesia’s lips.

Help him remember these sweet lips, please.

Artesia palmed Michael’s face and kissed him back. She inched back.

“I…I can’t do this.”

“Artesia, you have full sovereignty over my heart. I totally understand my foolish decision had dire consequences.”

Artesia stood and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window.

“You do know Tristano blames me for this entire occurrence.”

Michael stood and joined Artesia at the window. He turned her around.

“What!”

“Yes, he blames me for this entire scandal.”

“A man must learn to take his beatings, his downfalls, and mishaps in life like a man. The thought to blame his problems on a woman are...”

“Thoughtless.”

“That is putting it mildly.”

Michael pulled Artesia to his chest and hugged her.

“I will set this right.”

He kissed her on the forehead and stole a kiss to her lips. He inched his face back.

“Can you hang in there until tomorrow?”

“At this point, I have no choice.”

“Are you really going to marry Mr. Giordano?”

“I’ve haven’t been asked.”

“But your friend, the pretty brown hair woman...Kelly.”

“What does she have to do with this?”

“Shit, she told me Mr. Giordano asked you to marry him yesterday, and you accepted.”

No, that bitch didn’t.

“This entire vendetta is based on an untruth? Michael, why didn’t you confirm something of importance like that with me?”

“My male pride took the driver seat on that one.”

“Men.”

“Have dinner with me tonight, I will make this all up to you.”

“A retraction in the newspaper, and my good name restored will suffice. And for Tristano….”

Michael smothered Artesia’s sentence with his lips.

Artesia linked her arms around Michael’s neck.

Michael’s hands romanced over Artesia’s bare back.

“Your skin,” he mumbles against her lips.

Artesia plunged her tongue inside Michael’s mouth.

“Artesia…I…”

Artesia dropped her hand down to the front of Michael’s pants and squeezed his inflamed dick.

Michael lifted Artesia and molded her to his body. He inched back.

“I want more from you than maybes; I want you at my side. I’m on the verge of releasing in my pants, and I haven’t laid you down on a bed.”

“For a man out to destroy me, you sure feel good holding me.”

“I was never out to destroy you, never. Please join me for dinner tonight.”

“It will have to be another time. My father was very demanding I get to our summer cottage in Bridgehampton.”

“Then I will see you later as planned.”

“Getting past my father…I don’t think so. This crisis, and you showing up on his doorstep to escort his daughter.”

“Not good I assume.”

“Not at all.”

“Can you call me this evening, and when you do, make sure you’re not wearing anything.”

“You’re going to be much more than I anticipated.”

Michael kissed Artesia on her nose and inched his face back.

“What did you anticipate?”

Someone knocked on the door.

“No interruptions for starters.”

“Yes,” Michael hollered through the closed door.

“Mr. Barron, a Mr. Giordano Jr. is on line three.”

“Thank you.”

Artesia slid down Michael’s body.

“I’ll call you tonight.”

“All right.”

“Wait, I’ll walk you out to your vehicle.”

“I have to save face here.”

“Wait one moment.”

Michael lifted Artesia’s mini-dress. He pushed her royal blue thong down her legs to her ankles.

Artesia stepped out of her thong.

Michael bent over and lifted the skimpy item from off the carpet; he placed it inside his back pants pocket. He stood, lifted her, and carried her over to his desk. He sat her on it.

Michael dropped down to his knees, lifted Artesia’s mini-dress, and pulled her to the edge of his desk; he opened her legs and darted his tongue in and out of her pussy. He kissed her downy hairs and palmed the sides of her buttocks. He propelled her pelvis even closer to his face and quickly reinserted his tongue back inside her pussy.

“Oh Mic…Michael.”

“Oh, you taste so fucking good.”

His tongue coiled back inside of her.

“Ooo…so…woooo.”

Artesia balanced her weight on the desk with the back of her elbows.

Michael’s tongue surfed inside the wet cove, suckling the dripping juices.

Artesia parted her legs wider. She rested her back on Michael’s desk.

Artesia pushed Michael’s head deeper into her pelvis.

“Oh…oh yes…right…oh yes right there.”

She squeezed over her breast.

Michael stood and unzipped his pants.

His secretary knocked on the door again.

“Dammit…!”

“Excuse me sir.”

“Shit!”

Michael leaned his face downward and kissed Artesia on her flat abdomen. He straightened his posture and looked down into her eyes.

“I’ll talk to you later.”

Michael went under Artesia’s dress, placed his forefinger inside her pussy, and pulled it back out. He placed the same finger inside his mouth and smeared the essence of her vaginal juices under his nostrils. He grabbed onto both of Artesia’s hands and pulled her up.

Artesia leaned her face upward.

Michael licked over her lips.

“This evening you belong in my bed.”

“You have sold me on the concept.”

Artesia’s feet hit the carpet. She pushed her dress down.

“Say, I have two tickets to see The Phantom of The Opera next week.”

“I would love to go.”

“Then it’s a night out on the town with me.”

“I’ll talk to you later, oh, in the nude.”

She winked at him.

“Yes, you will.”

Artesia walked to the door and opened it.

“Oh.”

She walked back over to Michael, drew her hand back, and smacked him.

“I suggest you work on that retraction.”

She winked at him and walked out his office.

Michael smiled.

“Mr. Barron, would you like me to call security?”

“No, the woman is within her rights.”

“Yes sir.”

His secretary pulled the door close.

Michael walked around his desk. He sniffed under his nose.

“Pleasant.”

He sat at his desk, reached for the telephone base, and released the call off hold.  He lifted the receiver and placed it up to his ear.

“This is Mr. Barron; can I help you?”

“We need to talk.”

“Mr. Giordano, with all due respect, any questions please direct to my attorney.”

“I employ you young man to at least hear me out.”

Michael thought about it.

“I will be at your office in an hour.”

“Thank you young man.”

Mr. Giordano Jr. hung up the telephone.

Michael placed the telephone receiver back on the cradle.

MORRIS AND MORRIS ATTORNEYS AT LAW
Park Ridge, New Jersey

Bradley tried calling Artesia’s cell phone again.

‘This cell phone is no longer in service.’

He placed the receiver back on the cradle. He glanced down at Artesia’s resignation she faxed to his father’s fax machine.

Mr. Morris Sr. peeped his head inside his son’s office.

“Are you all right son?”

“I would be once I speak with Artesia.”

“I think her resignation clears this law firm from further interrogation from the media. I will have our PR department draft a report to put out there.”

“Dad, do you really think Artesia was a high-class call girl.”

“Yes.”

“She’s worked for this law firm for over three years.”

“Yes, and only as a part-time employee. Son, as people get older, their thinking tends to sway for right, or in Artesia’s case, wrong.”

“Do you think she did it for the money?”

Mr. Morris Sr. rubbed his chin down.

“No.”

“That’s where I’m having trouble believing this. Artesia’s family is well-to-do.”

“Son, drop it. She is no longer a concern of yours. If I were you, I would distance myself from Miss. Wockivoi until all this has blown over.”

Mr. Morris turned around. He snapped his fingers and turned back around.

“Oh, make sure I have Glenmont’s deposition on my desk within the hour.”

“Yes sir.”

Mr. Morris Sr. walked away from Bradley’s door.

WOCKIVOI’S SUMMER COTTAGE
Bridgehampton, New York

“Father, I’m sorry, yes I was once employed as a call girl, but I was working on research for my criminal justice class.”

“Lay’Luna, your childish antics has brought shame on this family. Your mother and I have always taught you to watch what you do, what you say, and when you say it.”

“Dear, I think it’s irrelevant for the circumstances. No matter what is broadcast over the news, or what is reported in the newspaper. This family must stick together.”

“Lay’Luna, go to your room.”

“Father, I’m a grown woman.”

“Who at the moment, better listen to her father.”

Lay’Luna looked over at her mother, who nodded her head.

“Yes sir.”

Artesia turned around and walked out the family room.

“Dear, I’m sure, she met no harm. Lay’Luna is a very intelligent woman, a little naive at times, but I stand by my daughter’s word one hundred percent.”

“And you don’t think I don’t.”

“I know you do dear.”

Mrs. Wockivoi hugged her husband. Her waist was embraced in return.

“I say Lay’Luna finishes her last year of law school in London.”

His wife inched back.

“Tell me you’re not serious.”

“It will be a clean start for her. There, she could concentrate on her studies, and when she graduates, she can return to the states to take the bar exam. I do not want my daughter hurt by this shit in the newspaper, or what anyone listens to in the news.”

“I love you for placing the values of this family first.”

Artesia listened in on her parent’s conversation.

“No, London is boring.”

“It will do you some justice,” her father yelled from the family room. “And I thought I asked you to go to your bedroom.”

“I am.”

How does her father always know she was listening?

Artesia walked to the double staircase.

“Miss. Lay’Luna, would you like me to prepare a snack for you.”

“No thank you.”

“I will come for you once dinner has been prepared, and ready to serve.”

“Thank you, Miss. Georgette.”

“Do not look so displaced; things have a way of working itself out.”

Artesia patted her parent’s domesticated helper on the shoulder.

“Thank you.”

Artesia walked up the steps of a winding staircase.

GIORDANO ACCOUNTING FIRM, CPA’S
Financial District
Manhattan, New York

Tristano glanced out the window. He wanted, no he needed to see Artesia.

‘Dammit Tristano, this is a relationship, when one or both is down, you pull your resources together to fight, not run, or trample on the other person’s feelings.’

Why does he always seem to blow it?

Someone knocked on the door.

He swiveled his chair around.

“Come in.”

Mr. Giordano opened the door and entered Tristano’s office. He closed the door behind his entrance.

“Son, we have a problem.”

“What is it dad?”

Mr. Giordano walked over to Tristano’s desk and took a seat across from him. He placed several files on his son’s desk.

“Son, I have been looking over several of these accounts. Someone in this office has been siphoning off our accounts.”

“So, Mr. Barron’s accusations are true.”

“Apparently so.”

“I assure you it was not me.”

“The thought has never crossed my mind; however, we have a problem.”

Tristano sat up.

“What’s the problem?”

“All the accounts are undersigned by Welford and then signed off by you.”

Tristano slid one account to him, opened the file, and read it. He looked at his signature, and then looked at Welford’s signature.

“Shit! Dad, I swear the funds were documented when I signed off. How and why the totals are off by thousands remains a mystery to me.”

“Son, did you recheck and confirm.”

Tristano slicked his hand back through his hair.

“Yes sir.”

“I have a meeting with Mr. Michael Barron Jr. this afternoon.”

“Dad, what the hell is going on? This firm has never been faced with a crisis such as this. If need be, Welford could step in as CFO until this scandal blows over.”

“Son, I would not advise you of that. You best believe I will get to the bottom of this shit.”

“Dad, do you really think someone is out to sabotage this firm?”

“Yes, and I have a strong suspicion who it might be. For the time being, let me perform my own internal investigation. In the meantime, I demand you go home for the rest of the day.”

“Dad, come on now, to ask that is like leaving you to clean up a little boy’s mess.”

“Son, I am not asking. Take some days off and relax.”

Mr. Giordano stood and walked to the door. He turned around.

“If you haven’t heard, Judge Wockivoi held a press conference this afternoon, regarding his daughter. I hate to be the person, who threw that garbage out in the wind.”

Mr. Giordano twisted the doorknob and walked out Tristano’s office.

‘Dammit Tristano, this is a relationship, when one or both is down, you pull your resources together to fight, not run, or trample on the other person’s feelings.’

Tristano stood and stretched. He placed the files inside his briefcase, closed it, and lifted it from off the table; he walked to his door. He turned and glanced around his office. Nothing this serious has ever happen to him, or this firm. He needed to talk to Artesia, if only to hear her tell him to take a hike.

Tristano opened the door and walked out his office. He pulled the door close.

WHEATFIELD ESTATES
Old Westbury, New York

Michael’s Residence

Michael entered his residence and closed the door. He placed his briefcase down on a three-legged antique stand near the door.

‘I don’t know how these losses occurred.’

Michael recalled Mr. Giordano’s statement. Damn shame he couldn’t confront his son.

“Mr. Barron, you have a guest in the parlor.”

Artesia, yes. Michael smiled at the thought.

“Thank you.”

Michael removed his suit jacket and rested it over the back of a wing-back chair. He hurried to the parlor. He opened the brown double doors.

Kelly placed a photograph down on the fireplace mantel.

“Hello, I hope you do not mind that I took the liberty inviting myself here.”

“A telephone call would have been appropriate.”

“Would you need anything Mr. Barron prior to dinner?”

“No thank you.”

Kelly lifted an invitation from off the baby grand piano and read it. She looked over at Michael.

“I like gatherings, the ones in the Hamptons, are so much better.”

She placed the invitation back down.

“Kelly, what are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“How did you know where my residence is located?”

“I have ways of finding out things about people.”

Someone knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

Michael’s house servant opened the door.

“Sir, there is a Miss. Wockivoi on the telephone.”

Michael smiled.

Kelly’s eyes displayed anger.

“Kelly, could you excuse me; I have immediate things, which needs my attention.”

“Mr. Feiters, could you tell Miss. Wockivoi I will be with her momentarily.”

“Yes sir.”

“You do know she is an engaged woman.”

“I really like flirting with danger.”

Kelly walked over to Michael.

“Why spend the time on a woman who is engaged, when you can have a free and willing woman.”

Michael stepped back.

“I’ll see you later, Kelly.”

Kelly smiled.

“Mr. Feiters, I’ll take the call upstairs.”

“Yes sir.”

Michael walked out the parlor.

“Could you please get me a glass of water before I leave?”

“Certainly ma’am.”

Michael’s house servant placed the telephone receiver down on the telephone stand and walked out the parlor.

Kelly ran over to the telephone stand and lifted the telephone receiver; she placed it up to her ear. She cleared her throat into the mouthpiece.

“Hello Michael.”

“No, this is Kelly, his woman, and you are?”

“Kelly, this is Artesia. What... what are you doing there?”

“Well every man doesn’t fall for beauty and brains.”

“I really do not appreciate you telling Michael, I’m engaged.”

“I have to go; Michael has already run the water for a private time in the Jacuzzi. You ought to see his home, it’s humongous.”

“You bitch. Aren’t you a little too old to be coveting my seconds. For goodness sake, that stint worked in high school.”

“It’s a shame your daddy ran to his little girl’s defense once again.”

Artesia held the telephone receiver back from her ear. Was this the voice of her friend? A person who she practically grew up with.

Artesia replaced the receiver back up to her ear.

“You can have Michael.”

“Oh, I plan too.”

Kelly slammed the cordless receiver down against the table.

“Bitch.”

“Here is your water ma’am.”

“No thank you, I’m fine.”

“As you wish ma’am.”

Kelly walked out the parlor.


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