Business as Usual (13 page)

“I don’t have two hundred and fifty thousand
dollars just lying around.”
“That’s too bad,” Danny said. “Immigration will have their work cut out for
them. Especially when they start digging into your father’s business practices
to see if he violated any other ethics when he asked you to marry one of his
investors. You’re nothing but a whore, just like the rest of these bitches.”

“You’re an asshole. I really dodged a bullet
when I married Ethan instead of you.”

“What’s it going to be,
honey? Cold hard cash or five years in jail for immigration fraud? Ethan will
serve time in jail before he’s deported, and will never set foot in America
again. Think it over.”

He was right. But this was blackmail. I didn’t
know what to do… lives would be destroyed because I said too much to the wrong
person.

“I’ll work on getting the money,” I muttered,
dejectedly.

“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he
answered, crisply. “I’ll call you with instructions so make sure you answer all
of my calls. And don’t tell your husband about any of this, or
else
.”

And with that, he hung up.

I stood over the stove trembling as the
pancakes burned setting the fire alarm off. I numbly moved the pan from the
flames, fanning the smoke away. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I opened
windows and the patio door.

“What’s going on?” Ethan asked, as he walked
in.

“I burned the pancakes.”

“Oh,” was all he said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I answered tersely.

“Were you crying?”

“No… it’s just the smoke,” I lied. Yet again.

I
moved through the rest of the day like a zombie. I needed someone to talk to.
Danny threatened to take the recordings to immigration if I talked to Ethan.
Worse, Ethan hated Danny and acted strangely if I so much as mentioned him.
There was Claudia, but she had problems of her own. I promised to see her when
I was stateside again but had been too involved in my own affairs to visit.

Not long after the call from Danny, Ethan had
started to get his share of strange phone calls as well. Someone calling from
an anonymous phone number would hang up whenever he answered, sometimes calling
in the middle of the night. I had no doubt in my mind that it was Danny,
harassing us.

I received the dreaded phone call from Danny a
few days later. He wanted the money in a briefcase, delivered to him in “tax
free” cash, he said.

I couldn’t figure out where to get two hundred
and fifty thousand dollars. I had the money in my account, but it would take a
week or two for my bank to process a cash withdrawal that size and Danny wanted
the money in approximately three days in unmarked cash. Ethan had grown suspicious
of the phone calls that often carried me into another room, as Danny taunted me
with one phone call after another. He’d also noticed how reticent I was when he
asked me about it.

I eventually decided to withdraw the money from
the joint account Ethan had set up for both of us. His bank allowed large sums
of money to be withdrawn the same day. It was a matter of getting the cash out
quickly and replacing it with my own via check. The scheme made my flesh crawl.
But I wanted to protect not only Ethan, but my father from Danny’s plotting. I
would tell Ethan when it was over and the data was safely in my hands. Though
in today’s highly advanced technological world, a file like that could never be
destroyed. It would always exist on Danny’s hard drive even if he were truly
inclined to get rid of it. I wanted to go to the Feds, to tell them about the
bribery and blackmail but I couldn’t do it without implicating ourselves in a
crime.

I went to a private office at the bank two days
later with a briefcase secured by a combination lock with the bank manager who
had me sign documents giving them permission to release the money.

“We’ll just need your husband’s signature,” he
said, taking the paperwork away when everything was signed.

“It’s bank policy and required on all joint
accounts.”

I had to have the money in less than
twenty-four hours. How could I get Ethan to sign the paperwork without telling
him what it was for?

“Actually,” I said, to the bank manager, “I’m
using the money to buy a gift for my husband. It’s a surprise. There’s no way I
can ask him to sign this without him demanding to know why. And that will ruin
everything. I have to pay for the gift with cash. I have my own account, but it
will take the bank two weeks to give me the money. I wrote a check to replace
the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in our joint account. Because of
that, I don’t think it’s really necessary to have the paperwork signed by my
husband.”
“I see,” the slick looking banker said. “Well, since you’re replacing the money
right away with money from your own account, we may be able to make an
exception. I will call your bank to verify the availability of the funds, and
that there are no immediate holds and then we’ll get your cash withdrawal to
you. It will be just a few minutes…”

A half hour later, two hundred and fifty
thousand dollars was in my possession and the whole ordeal would soon be over.
That night, about two in the morning, the phone rang as scheduled. Ethan slept
soundly through the commotion as I tip toed out of the room to meet Danny at a
nearby hotel. Real cloak and dagger dangerous stuff. No one knew where I was
going, not even my husband. If something happened, who would suspect Danny of
doing something to hurt me? But I had to finish this, for my family. The best I
could do was to send an email to myself with a message:

If
anything happens to me, Daniel Williams is responsible.

Then
I put a code only my father would understand

“My father will know what this means…”

It
was the date of my parent’s wedding anniversary.   

When I arrived at the rundown hotel I’d been
directed to, Danny opened the door, stepping aside as I walked in. The smile on
his face was a mile-wide, but the look in his eyes was pure evil.

“You got my money?” he said, as I strolled in,
dressed in a long sleeved black dress.

“I have your money. Do you have the data?”

“Not so fast, beautiful,” he interrupted.

I gave him the briefcase. Danny tried to pop it
open, but the combination code prevented him from getting inside.

“Open it,” he demanded.

“Not until you give me the data.”

He tossed a thumb drive in my hands then
grabbed the suitcase. I slipped Danny a sheet of paper with the codes, then
watched him open it to verify that all the funds were there. Danny grinned.

“You do realize, I could have copies.”
“I know that. But…you already have what you want. I would hope you won’t bother
us anymore.”

“You’re right. I don’t want money from you. I
want something else.”

His eyes crawled up my body, stopping when they
landed on my breasts. He licked his lips and smiled, rubbing his hands together
deviously.

“I’m in love with my husband,” I whimpered.

“I know you are. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be
here. I know how much you love your family...that you would do anything for them.
That’s why it’s so easy to manipulate you. That kind of love can only make a
person weak. Now take your clothes off.”

“Go to hell!” I growled, moving toward the
door.

But Danny grabbed my arm.

“Fine. Then I’ll go to immigration. Enjoy your freedom
while you still have it,” he said, as I continued to walk out. “I’ll be sure to
send your recording to the press. The gossips will get a kick out of it. Your
father’s stock will drop when the feds starts looking into his business affairs
and your wonderful husband will be deported. You’re going to let something like
sex, ruin your family?”

I stopped short of opening the door.

Danny took his shirt off, stepped out of his
pants and underwear, then tossed them on the floor. He then walked across the
room, took me by the hand and led me to the bed where he lifted my dress over
my head and tossed it aside

“Take them off,” he ordered, gesturing toward
my underclothes.  

I got undressed as he moved across the room
again, pulling a video camera in plain sight. I felt ill.

“On the bed, gorgeous…”

A
tear streamed down my cheek as I weakly complied, sitting on my knees as Danny
stood before me, his groin pointed at my face. Looking at him made me sick as
he circled the bed, snapping naked pictures of the both of us. Compromising
pictures that made it appear as though we’d been intimate.

“Smile for the camera!” he teased.

I covered my face with my hands, hiding from
the glare of its lens.

“I can’t do this,” I cried, moving away,
feeling like my skin was about to slide off of my bones.

I flinched as Danny inched toward me, laughing
as he grabbed my hand and slipped the new diamond ring Ethan had given me from
my finger. I was being robbed. The ring was worth more than the money in the
briefcase I’d given him.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to rape you,” he
sneered. “I just needed a bit of insurance. You and your husband better not
think of coming after me. Got it?”

“What are you going to do with the pictures?” I
wept, realizing how much trouble I’d gotten myself into.

“They’re for my personal collection. Something
to remember us by...”

I
limped out of bed and grabbed my clothes as he put the camera away. I ran out
of the hotel suite as fast as I could, carrying my shoes as I rushed into the
elevator, tears streaming down my face. I raced across the hotel lobby sobbing,
grateful for the late hour, and that no one had seen me.

 I felt dirty. So I took a shower as soon
as I got home, and slept in the guestroom. Ethan climbed into bed with me, just
before dawn, a question in his eyes. I wanted to tell him what happened, I
really did, but I couldn’t. And when he kissed me, I turned him away, ending
our early morning ritual.

I
was depressed for days, as I moped around the house feeling ill, wondering if
Daniel would reappear and try to destroy our lives again. I was tired of
jumping out of my skin whenever the phone rang. But he never called. Then I
remembered something. If I could put an ocean between us, I could make Danny go
away. I broached the topic apprehensively, as Ethan sat on the sofa reading the
paper.

“We have a week of vacation left. You mentioned
going to China. I’m still interested if you are,” I said, unable to look him in
the eyes.

“You still want to go?”

“Of course!” I answered, trying my best not to
sound desperate.

“Book the flight. We’ll get out of here
tomorrow. My mother will be happy to see us.”

“I’ll be happy to see her too…” I said.

I sat next to Ethan on the sofa and gave him a
hug. The first time my fingers had touched him in a week.

The
flight to China was over thirteen hours long and I was sick the entire plane
ride. I gripped Ethan’s hand as I leaned back in my seat, too nauseated to read
or sleep.

“You sure it’s the altitude making you sick?”

“I always get sick when I fly.”

“You didn’t get sick on our flight from Paris.
Maybe it’s something else?”

“What makes you think that?” I asked, turning
in my seat to eye him directly.

Ethan shrugged. “We made love every night for
more than a month and you still haven’t had your period.”

We made love every night for six weeks, to be
exact. But we used protection… except that last week in Vegas. Nevertheless, I
was embarrassed and annoyed with Ethan for paying attention.

“We have nothing to worry about. I’m
irregular,” I assured him.

I
wasn’t irregular. I was nervous. I had three pregnancy tests in my luggage and
all of them were positive, indicating that I was probably pregnant. A thought I
couldn’t’ fathom, much less even deal with just yet.

“Oh,” he answered, looking a bit disappointed.
“It would make my mother happy,” he said.

I closed my eyes, ignoring him, my stomach
churning like there was an active volcano burbling inside of it.

“Are you working?” I asked, as Ethan sifted
through mail and other letters that had come to the house.

“I’m trying to get a jump start on work before
we go back next week.”

I
sighed, trying not to projectile vomit in his face.

“Can you deal with it later?” I pleaded,
certain my face was about to turn green.

Ethan nodded, stuffing the mail and the rest of
his paperwork back into his briefcase before taking my hand.

The
rest of the thirteen hour trip had given me time to think, especially with
Ethan so being supportive as I sat beside him dry-heaving with a barf bag in my
lap. I promised myself I would tell him about the blackmail, the pictures, and
of course, the pregnancy tests. I grew up in a house of secrets…with parents
who didn’t know how to communicate and women who were taught to mind their
manners. But I was tired of bottling my emotions inside. I didn’t care
how
fate brought us together or the fact that we’d only been married seven weeks. I
loved Ethan, and it was time to tell him. Especially now that a baby was
involved. If the doctor confirmed what the pregnancy tests and my body had
already told me, I was going to keep the baby. I had even spent the rest of the
flight imagining what he or she would look like with our beautiful genes mixed
together.