Choke On Your Lies Part 17

That got Octavia to her feet. She was almost as tall as Carl. With lungs full of air, she was imposing-a supervillainess. "You don't go until I say you go. We've got a lot to talk about tonight. And either we do it now, or Pamela here starts filing motions for Mick before you even get out the front door."

We all looked at Pamela. She waved her Blackberry. "Oh yeah, it's easy."

Carl said, "She's better than my guys? You think so? f.u.c.k, Mick, they've been waiting for this. Begging."

I shrugged. "Sorry, Carl."

Octavia stepped behind Carl and patted his shoulder while speaking very close and calmly in his ear. "Yes, Pamela is better than your guys because I'm better than your guys, and I have more money than you. Lots more. You know how tobacco companies squash all the lawsuits brought against them by throwing money at lawyers and paperwork? I'm a smaller scale version of that, and still one thousand times more powerful than you, your tiny c.o.c.k, Mick's itchy c.u.n.t of a wife, and any lawyer you throw in my path. We will win."

Carl had gone pale. Maybe he was allergic to the food, but I didn't think so. I think she had gotten to him.

Then she twisted the knife. "Maybe you didn't catch it, but Frances is not going through all this because she loves you. She's doing it to protect herself from you. Once the house belongs to her, that's what she's worth. Beholden to no man, not even one trying to blackmail her. Especially since we already know you'd never do it, not with what she's got on you."

Carl cleared his throat. Eyes tired but unblinking, straight ahead.

Stephanie leaned towards me. "This is fun, right?"

I nodded.

"Then why do I feel so bad for him?"

"Octavia has a way of making justice feel creepy. She can't help it."

"But you've really done it, right? This will all be over after tonight?"

I laced my fingers in hers. "Absolutely."

Octavia resumed her place at the head of the table, still standing, and said, "Since some people don't know how to conduct themselves at dinner, I suggest we all make our way to the study for the remainder of the evening. Jennings, please pa.s.s along my apologies to Harriet. I don't think we'll be finis.h.i.+ng the meal tonight."

He nodded and exited through the door into the kitchen. The rest of us stood and ambled down the familiar hall of horror until we were once again in the study, but this time there were more chairs awaiting us. Either Jennings or Harriet must have set them out, or maybe Octavia had hidden ghostly servants at her beck and call-condemned souls serving penance. Maybe there was a poem in that. I tried to think of opening lines as Stephanie leaned into me. I automatically put my arm around her, then thought better of it in front of Frances, who still held the power between us, as far as she knew. Knowing what I knew, it was still hard believing she didn't have an inkling. A b.l.o.o.d.y, obscene ambush, only moments away.

EIGHTEEN.

While everyone was settling in the chairs around Octavia's desk, Stephanie led me away from the others. We stood near the back of the room where no one could hear us clearly.

She said, "Mick, really, I've appreciated your friends.h.i.+p these past couple of days. And I won't lie to you. I do feel something...intense between us. I like you. I want to spend more time with you."

"But?"

She grinned shyly. "Yeah, there's always a 'but'. It's not that I don't love Ashton. I really do, but we lost something in all this. I'm not sure if we can get it back, but I would like to try. And being with you...that's complicated. You feel that, right?"

"I don't mind complicated."

"Yes you do. That's what all, all, this is about." She held her arms out like presenting a prize on The Price is Right. "It's all about things getting too complicated, and you're falling apart. I'm not even sure you're all that mad at Fran."

"Please, Steph."

"Just listen, okay? I'm going to stay married until we don't feel it anymore. And you, you need some time alone to make sure this never happens to you again. I mean it in a good way. Fran's f.u.c.ked you up."

She was right. It wasn't what I wanted to hear, but she was plenty right. I shrugged and raised my eyebrows at her.

"Please don't make this any harder."

I said, "Okay, that's fine. I can respect that."

She ran her fingers up and down my arm. "Do more than respect it. Believe it, okay?"

I didn't get to answer because Jennings had arrived, asking if we'd like a drink. I was so amped at that point, my heart like a jackhammer, that I asked for a Vodka martini, the coldest thing I could think of. Stephanie said she was fine. Everyone else had taken seats, so we took ours off to the far left and waited. Octavia must've taken a short detour. Chatter, chatter, everyone chattering. But all I could think about was how at the end of this night, I was probably going home-to my house-alone, reviled, and avenged. Also, sad.

The chatter subsided and I looked up to see Octavia's grand entrance, old Hollywood glamour, as she first ran her hand along Alice's back and shoulder before taking a seat behind the monstrous desk. I also noticed that the light for her speaker phone was on. I started to say something, as if perhaps she didn't notice. I doubted that. She wanted someone outside of this house to hear what was going on. Nice back-up plan. Maybe. Depended on who was listening.

Even the people in the room who had every reason to hate and fear her couldn't help but give her their full attention. She had an authority earned by the same personality that had offended and bruised so many. All these years I had wondered at that, how she commanded attention despite our society's disdain for her size and nastiness. The same nastiness afforded models and high-powered editors and movie starlets with barely a wink played as "skunky" when Octavia paraded it. As if it was perfectly allowable for the powerful and gorgeous to say, "You, obese woman, play nice if you even want our sc.r.a.ps."

That Octavia wouldn't be the wealthy, powerful b.i.t.c.h she had turned into. No, that other Octavia would have been more miserable than this one, but no one would have given her a second glance. She wouldn't have mattered.

Seeing her like this-in charge and changing lives-made me want to applaud for her. Yes! Go get 'em! Show them your b.a.l.l.s.

I was only sobered by the thought that the life she was changing most of all, irrevocably and forcefully, was mine.

Octavia took a slow, sweeping look at all her guests, obviously soaking up all of the attention, before saying, "Now. Business. Are we all clear as to why we are here?"

Everyone of us glanced at other faces, waiting for someone to ask. Wis.h.i.+ng someone would. It was Dan Moose who finally said, "I'm pretty f.u.c.king confused."

Octavia motioned at Frances. "Are you acquainted with Mrs. Thooft?"

Frances started to correct her, a sharp breath and raised fingers, since she'd never taken my name, but then thought better of it. Hand back to her lap, where the other hand picked viciously at her cuticles.

Moose shrugged. "Not...exactly. I've seen her. On film."

Frannie's ears went red. Neck tight. She slid away from the Provost, as far as possible in her chair, but there wasn't anywhere to go. Yes, she hadn't exactly had it confirmed in such an obvious way, I supposed, that her extra-curriculars had been as exposed as any others. Maybe an inkling, but she had repressed that. But now, in public, in front of Octavia, for G.o.d's sake.

"Mr. Moose, if you don't mind, how did you see her on film exactly?"

He s.h.i.+fted, looked down. "I cataloged and digitized the tapes of Carl's swinger parties."

"And how much did he pay you for this service?"

"Well..." Another s.h.i.+ft, finally got the nerve to look at Octavia. "I was already in computer services at the college, so he said there was a, um, special a.s.signment. I mean, we'd talked on and off, and somehow got to talking about p.o.r.n sites. He gave me a few tips. He asked about, you know, making sure his wife didn't find out. So when he brought me into this-"

"Brought you in?" Carl laughed. "You jumped in, pal."

"Oh, right, like you didn't set it all up. I mean, the first tape you showed me was your wife, for f.u.c.k's sake. Asked if I'd like a piece-"

"Hey!" Finger pointed. "I will f.u.c.k you up if you say-"

Octavia slammed her hands on her desk. "Gentlemen! My rules!"

And it worked.

She nodded to Moose. "Go on."

The man was still glaring at Carl and breathing heavily through his nose. "Originally, it was about fifty bucks per tape. Then I got invited over...and I f.u.c.ked his wife, other wives, her-" A nod at Alice. "And...I never got around to the one on the end there." He pointed at Stephanie.

I just then noticed Stephanie's hand gripping my forearm, as it had the whole time Moose had been talking. She released me when he got to the end, then whispered, "Thank G.o.d."

Carl was shaking his head and rolling his eyes and trying to talk to Frances, saying, "Do you believe this s.h.i.+t?" and "Lies, f.u.c.king lies." But Frances stared at her lap.

Octavia intertwined her fingers and cleared her throat. "Carl, do you mind if I call you Carl? Anyway, Carl, remember that this is not a courtroom. If it were, you'd be on the national news because my lawyer would be dissecting your organs right now. None of this is about convincing a jury or covering your a.s.s. It's about what we all know, and how we're going to deal with it."

A negotiation? Really? Why go through the charade of having all these people over if it came down to just making a deal for my house? Octavia was playing at something else now. How could she save my house and still destroy the man...and my ex, of course, which had been her real target until she met Carl. But something about his anger and dismissal of all this had changed Octavia's focus. I wanted to get up and take five, tell her to remember the plan.

But no, I couldn't do that. This was now clearly more about her entertainment than my well-being. Alas, my lot in life the moment I allowed her in.

Carl picked at a thread on his slacks. "Fine, you've got me. What do you want? It's that simple? What's at stake for me here?"

Octavia smiled, then turned her attention back to Moose. "Tell me about forging the quitclaim deed for Mr. Thooft's house."

Frances let out a surprised breath, then stared Octavia down with narrow eyes. "You b.i.t.c.h. You fat, f.u.c.king, nasty b.i.t.c.h."

Carl reached for Frannie's arm. "Honey, please. If that's all this is, he can keep the house. We'll be fine."

She pulled away and stood, turned to face him. Not just p.i.s.sed, but broken. "Really? You're saying I should live with you? After all of this...this bulls.h.i.+t? I should just live with you? I'm not going to continue to be your video fantasy doll, Carl. We're done." Then to Octavia. "How dare you accuse me of that! I'm sure it was your idea, too, and not Mick's. Mick trusts me. He knows he signed that deed. He knows."

Moose and I both started to speak at the same time, then did the You first, No I insist number, before I said. "I didn't sign that."

Frannie shook her head like she was disappointed in me. "Oh, Mick, you don't know what to believe after she's gotten hold of you."

Moose said, "But he's right. And you know it."

Silence. She stood, all of us staring at her while she stared at the back wall.

Octavia asked Moose, "Tel me about it. What exactly happened?"

"Carl brought me the signature, brought me the deed, and told me it was for Frannie. Said her husband was cheating on her, drinking too much, beating her up-"

I couldn't help it. "That's a lie!"

"No, I see that now. You couldn't beat up a child, let alone Frannie. I've seen how rough she can get."

Frances was turning red. Her face was downright scary. "You're all lying. It's not fair! You, you want to take me down." Stabbing her finger at Octavia. "Always been jealous! And now that I've broken your poor Mick's heart, you get him all to yourself for whatever sick jollies you get out of it, and that isn't enough!"

"Keep going, tramp. This is fun." Octavia tucked her fists under her chin like she was riveted. "Tell us another whopper."

"I didn't do it!" Like a whirling dervish now, spinning to find me. She stepped over, leaned down, took my hands in hers. "It wasn't me. It was Carl's idea. He's trying to drive you out. He wants me all to himself, and I was so afraid you'd find out about the tapes, so I let him." Tears finally streaking her face now. Rancid. "I never meant to hurt you. I really didn't. You know better."

She was squeezing my fingers too tightly, rubbing the bones together. I yanked them away, shook blood back into them. "Please, Frances. Just sit down."

"I swear, it was all Carl."

The Provost started laughing. "Sure, like I wanted your f.u.c.king house. Really. She asked for it, and I was glad to let her have it. But, s.h.i.+t, I don't care if you teach for us or not, Mick. Your call. If you don't mind seeing the wife I stole from you every day for the next twenty years, fine. Some guys even get off on it. But I don't give a flying monkey s.h.i.+t if you cry like a b.i.t.c.h in a house or in an apartment."

Frances yelled at Carl, "Well, f.u.c.k you, it's over, mister. And I want those G.o.dd.a.m.ned tapes back."

He leaned back in his chair. "Fine. Not like I don't have plenty of copies."

Our hostess cleared her throat. "Can we all please finish this in some sort of order? It's getting a bit boring."

We all turned to her. Frances eventually sat down, rigid as a lamppost. Carl had a smug smile on his face, a slow headshake to show us he was above all this petty c.r.a.p. Pamela looked as if she'd stumbled into a soap opera, hanging on every word. And Stephanie leaned over to me and said, just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Poor guy. I had no idea she was like...that."

Frances sniffed, said, "Wh.o.r.e."

"Takes one to know one."

I was sure I heard the voice on the phone sigh or start to speak or something, only to change his or her mind. I wondered what that was all about, but Octavia plowed ahead.

"You admit the signature on the deed is a forgery."

Frances couldn't do it. The facts staring right in front of her and she couldn't tell the truth. She crossed her legs, swung the top one hard and fast. "It is Mick's signature."

"Mr. Moose?"

He said, "Technically, sure. It's his signature because I scanned it into a computer and asked around until I found someone with a robotic pen. Amazing how you can find anything on the Internet these days."

"Including your next job," Carl said.

"Like I'd want to work for your sorry a.s.s anymore."

"You sure wanted to when my wife was sucking your c.o.c.k."

I couldn't help but laugh. And then Stephanie joined in. All these highly p.i.s.sed off people looked at us like we were complete a.s.ses. We probably were, but it was just too funny.

Then Pamela and Jennings cracked smiles. Little bit of giggling. Even Frannie couldn't hide her grin.

Octavia motioned towards Moose. "Go on."

"Well, okay, so Carl wanted this signature, and it felt to me like just another way to threaten someone, you know. More blackmail. Like maybe the tapes weren't enough. So I did it, as I always did, and I kept my mouth shut. Are you sure I shouldn't have a lawyer here?"

"Too late, even if you wanted one. But rest a.s.sured, I don't give a s.h.i.+t about the law right now. Since none of you seem to either, I'm sure we can work out a mutual solution."

"Okay, I'll start," Carl said. He stood and faced us, putting on his "important speech" face, the douche. "Mick can have his house. No problem. Frannie, Mick, Moose, and Stephanie here should all turn in their resignations at the end of Fall semester. Once they do that, I will give them the original tapes, files, and any copies both photographic and video, of their club sessions. Except Mick, of course. He doesn't get jack s.h.i.+t except the house."

"That won't do," Octavia said. "You have to give them at least until the end of the Spring."