Humiliation and Revenge

Part 4

The avengers are not finished

by G. Lawrence

Several readers have requested more episodes of Humiliation and Revenge. And I wanted to see our avengers take on more missions. Because of the intertwining plotlines, this is not a tightly focused story and it's not intended to be. As mentioned before, this is a fantasy. It is not intended to reflect real life.

In the previous episode, we saw Emma seeking resolution with her estranged father, and the antics of her malicious younger sister. And we witnessed Emma's campaign to seek justice for wronged women, aided by the formidable Jimmy Hopkins. All of the characters are over 18 years old.

* * * * * *

Emma entered the rundown coffee shop outside Seattle to take a seat at the counter. It wasn't much different than the diner where she had been working a year before. Before a kind man pretending to be a struggling factory manager had changed her life.

She was not alone. Her best friend Janet Rawlings was watching from a corner booth with Jimmy Hopkins. There were two private security men standing unobtrusively on the sidewalk, and two more in the rear parking lot guarding the back door. A van across the street was filled with high-tech monitoring equipment.

"Hello, may I help you?" a 19-year-old waitress asked, wearing a pink uniform with white collars. She wasn't so small as Emma, about 5'7 and 120 pounds, with a figure thinner than she should be. The nametag read Grace.

"I'm new to the area. What's good?" Emma asked. The server glanced over her shoulder to make sure the boss wasn't listening.

"To tell the truth, nothing. But the coffee and apple pie aren't bad," she whispered.

Emma appreciated the honesty, thankful her old workplace had a better reputation. She still visited with Marge and the girls from time to time.

"Coffee and apple pie," Emma ordered. The diner was quiet, only a few patrons in the late afternoon. The food arrived a moment later.

"Have you worked here long?" Emma asked.

"About six months," Grace hesitantly replied.

"What did you do before?" Emma asked.

"I was a student. An art student. But those days are over," Grace said, choking up and turning away. Emma reached out to take her arm.

"They don't have to be, Alice," Emma said. "You can get your life back. I did."

"What do you mean?" the young woman said, startled. "How do you know my real name?"

"Let's talk," Emma replied.

Alice paused, not sure what to do. Her customer was small, barely 5'4 and a hundred pounds, in her mid-20s, with long golden-brown hair and hopeful brown eyes. She wore a modest powder blue dress with a red beret. Nothing about her seemed ominous, but Alice had learned the hard way that looks could be deceiving.

Without acknowledging her escort, Emma took Alice to a back corner, huddling down.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Emma requested.

"I can't. It's too humiliating," Alice replied.

"Let me guess. You wanted to do a favor for some friends, but it was a trick. They betrayed you. They decided to destroy your life. And now you're running away, afraid to let anyone from your past know what happened."

Alice stared in disbelief. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Because the same thing happened to me. In my hometown. It was awful, and I thought my world was over."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Emma. We can talk about the rest later. Please tell me what happened. And then I want to see what we can do about it."

"I'll tell you, but nothing can be done about it," Alice answered. "My pictures are hanging in an art gallery. Horrible, pornographic pictures. They are in brochures, and on the internet. Whatever reputation I hoped to have is gone now. Gone forever."

"I understand. Mine was, too, until the people who hurt me had to pay a price."

"It happened last fall, at the start of my senior year at Mendacious Frontier College," she explained. "I was at the county fair with my friends Joyce Rogers and Melinda Stockman. Having a good time. We were drinking beer and kidding around. Joyce had just been offered an assistant position at the college art gallery. Melinda was hired to arrange exhibits. I didn't even work there. I was just a student volunteer. My old boyfriend, Eric Sassman, showed up with his creepy buddy, Nick. I had broken up with Eric when I caught him cheating on me.

"Joyce said Eric and I should still be friends. I think she liked him, but I didn't know that at the time. She suggested a contest. A dare. We would do the ring toss, with the winner choosing a project at the gallery for the loser. I didn't want to, but Joyce pressed me hard and I said yes."

Alice started crying, using a napkin to dab her eyes. This was not a new story to Emma. It sounded a lot like her own, and others her teams were investigating.

Suddenly, they were interrupted as the boss marched over, frowning. He was middle-aged with Popeye arms, a dirty white apron, and a shaved head.

"Grace, get your lazy ass out of that seat and back to work," the fat gruff beast demanded.

"Yes, Mr. Hagman," Alice sheepishly obeyed, starting to get up. Emma reached to stop her.

"No, Mr. Hagman, she won't," Emma said.

"What do you mean?" the grouchy man asked.

"Grace doesn't work for you anymore. She works for me. Now please give us some privacy," Emma answered.

"She works for me until I say different. Now get back to work," Hagman ordered. Alice looked back and forth between them, not sure what to do.

"Stay where you are, Alice. We haven't finished our conversation," Emma calmly instructed. The manager was getting ticked off, leaning over the table with a dark stare. He smelled of grease.

"Look, lady, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but waitresses sitting on their duffs looks bad for my business," Hagman growled. "I reserve the right to serve whoever I want, so you had better leave."

"Sir, I suggest you learn better manners or there will be trouble," Emma warned.

"Trouble? From a snip like you?" he laughed, ready to drag Emma from the booth.

"No," Jimmy Hopkins said, coming up behind him. "From snips like us."

Hagman turned to find a large stocky man staring at him. And two more men standing in the doorway, ready to move. Through the plate-glass window, he saw a tall black man and a short Asian woman running toward his front door, possibly armed. Obviously private security. He looked back at Emma, seeing the defiance in her eyes. He didn't know what it was all about, and didn't want to.

"My apologies, ma'am. Call if you need anything," he said, quickly walking away.

"Who are you?" Alice asked in astonishment.

"You were saying?" Emma responded.

"Eric had a good toss with his three rings, but two of mine were better. I only needed a fair toss on my third try to win, but Mindy bumped my arm and it went wild. I wanted another try, but everyone laughed and said I lost. We went to the tavern to discuss the dare."

"A bad one, I presume," Emma guessed.

"Eric said I had to pose nude for an art class," Alice answered. "Joyce said she needed a model to show her new boss, Mrs. Rosenbaum, that she could do the job. Mindy told me the class would be small, only five or six artists doing sketches. I didn't want to. I'd never modeled before. Joyce said I had to. I lost the dare. And then she produced a contract."

"A contract?" Emma said.

"It was already filled out. I would need to pose in different positions for ninety minutes, and if I quit early, there were penalty clauses. I was on a scholarship without much money. I couldn't afford to pay any penalties, and Joyce knew that. They all did. I never should have signed that contract. Not ever. But Joyce said she needed my help. I thought we were friends."

"I know how that can happen," Emma consoled, taking her hand.

"On the evening of the art session, I arrived on time from my job at the bookstore. Joyce had me strip naked, put on a thin robe, and locked all of my clothes in a locker. With a padlock. The studio was bigger than usual. More of an auditorium, but Mindy said only registered students would be admitted."

Alice had to pause, and Emma knew how she felt. Emma had been drugged, stripped, raped on a nightclub stage, and video recorded by her childhood friends. Alice had not experienced the same depth of violation, but that didn't make it any less painful.

"Joyce made me pose in bad ways. Not too extreme, at first, but then more. Bent over. My legs spread. More spectators showed up. With cameras. And they weren't students. I saw jealous rivals. Wanda and her mean girls from our old high school, who had always hated me. There were co-workers from the bookstore. Classmates. Men who just wanted to degrade me. Even one of my professors. As the session went on, I saw them whispering and mocking. Thirty of them. Maybe forty. I wanted to stop, but Joyce wouldn't let me. She said the gallery would invoke the penalty clauses of my contract and fine me thousands of dollars. I was forced to twist in front of them horrified and humiliated."

Alice paused again. She was crying. Emma gave her a tissue.

"I heard that modeling sessions are supposed to be professional. Respectful. But Joyce didn't maintain any control," Alice recounted. "There were shouts like, 'Show us more pussy, bitch.' 'Stick your fingers in your ass.' And 'Come down here and suck my cock.'"

Emma had heard such comments, too. From those she believed to be her best friends. And her own sister. She knew how much they hurt.

"I thought that was the worst, but toward the end, Mindy brought out a box of sex toys," Alice continued. "Dildos. Handcuffs. A leather collar with dog tags. She put up a sign saying I was a $20 whore on display. Mindy had me pose with them, and Joyce was directing everything. She told Mindy to spread my vulva open wider so everyone could see. By the end, I was sobbing."

"Mindy touched you? On Joyce's orders?" Emma asked, glancing at Jimmy, who was making notes.

"Yes, with her fingers," Alice confirmed. "And then, a week later, they mounted that giant photo on the gallery wall for everyone to see. And more. Sketches. And paintings. Labeled with my name. I went to Joyce and asked why she would do that to me. She grinned like she'd won the lottery."

Emma did not appear surprised by Alice's story. Yes, she was shocked by the cruelty. But she had been shocked by cruelty before.

"Those disgusting porn pictures were a first for a minor gallery," Emma explained. "They gathered a lot of attention for using a model who wasn't a professional. But to get the raw imagery they wanted, they needed to catch you by surprise. Your spontaneous responses were the hook the exhibitors wanted. Joyce Rogers was promoted to project manager. Melinda Stockman became the events director. Eric Templeton is the primary contractor for building new exhibits. Director Gerta Rosenbaum has been praised for a daring escalation of the art scene. Even Nicholas Bellingham has a job there as a gopher. They used your shock and pain to advance their careers."

"How do you know all this?" Alice asked, sniffling.

"I've had my investigators on it for the last two weeks," Emma replied.

"Mr. Jacobs fired me from my bookstore job, saying he couldn't have such a slut on the sales floor," Alice remembered. "I became a joke on campus. Gallery employees were posting my photos on walls and poles. Students would snicker every time I walked into a classroom, showing videos on their phones. Dean Roberts took away my scholarship, saying I could earn my own way as a nude model. Or a prostitute. My parents stopped speaking to me."

"None of them had any right to do those things," Emma said, leaning forward. "I only have two questions for you. Do you want your life back? And do you want justice?"

* * * * * *

It was a Saturday morning at the Latimer Estate. Emma was making breakfast in the chef's kitchen while her father, Janet, and Mrs. Hanna Hubbard sat patiently at the dining table. Wendy Shin, acting as Emma's personal bodyguard, had a small desk in the corner, reading reports. A warm sun glistened through the picture windows from the grand patio.

"You manage this whole place?" Melvin asked Hanna.

He was 50 years old, slight of build and turning gray. The estate was twenty acres with a two-story mansion, a gigantic patio and pool, orchards, gardens, a 3-hole golf course, and meadows behind the house filled with deer. The sturdy elder woman with piercing gray eyes smiled.

"Mrs. Latimer manages the estate," Hanna replied. "I only supervise the staff, the repairs, and the grounds."

"Hanna does everything! I would be so lost without her," Emma shouted from the stove wearing a frilly yellow dress that was loose around her waist. Her country apron was red and white checkers.

"Emma is a quick learner," Hanna conceded. "And a wonderful friend."

"She has always been very smart," Melvin said. "No one expected anyone from Langsford to get an art scholarship to New York University. I never dreamed how jealous that made her friends."

"Only a few more minutes for the eggs. How's the coffee?" Emma called out.

"It's great, honey," Janet said, also lightly outfitted for the warm fall day. "Are you sure we can't help?"

"I'm good. Not even showing much of a bulge yet," Emma happily answered.

"What do you think of becoming a grandfather?" Hanna asked, noticing that Janet wasn't cozying up to Emma's father.

"It's good she's married, though I still haven't met her husband," Melvin answered.

"Be careful when you do," Janet warned. "Emma has a forgiving nature. John doesn't. He spent half a billion dollars to destroy your hometown. He'd burn it down and salt the earth if that was an option."

"It sounds like you would, too, Mrs. Rawlings," Melvin observed.

"I was there the night we raided Donna Livingston's bar," Janet said, leaning forward. "I watched Jimmy Hopkins's detectives strip every one of your depraved friends naked, handcuff them, and load them on the state police buses for while they cried and begged for mercy. Including your daughter, Katy."

"Not my depraved friends," Melvin objected. "They had been Emma's friends before she left for college. I had no clue what they were doing. I'm still not even sure what happened."

"We lured all of them in. Judy, Tricia, Samantha. Fifty more," Janet said with immense satisfaction. "We got the whole stinking crew that raped Emma. They were told that Emma was coming back for an encore performance, and Jimmy Hopkins used Marta Svoboda as bait. Now they are going to prison. And the night Emma needed you most, you locked her out of the house. Naked. While she was being chased by a mob. Don't expect Joe to forget that. Or me."

Melvin was stunned. He knew Janet Rawlings as a famous celebrity, the wife of a billionaire. He had no idea she was such a passionate defender of his daughter.

"It was a terrible mistake, and I'll spend the rest of my life making up for it," Melvin replied.

"See that you do. Destroying your town and taking away your house--" Janet continued.

Suddenly Emma appeared, setting glasses of orange juice on the table and kneeling at Janet's feet. She took her hand.

"Jan, my father and I will work this out. Let's not spoil breakfast," she urged. "And thank you for loving me so much. No woman could ever have a better friend."

Emma kissed Janet on the cheek and ran back into the kitchen. Janet returned her gaze to Melvin.

"For Emma's sake, I'll cut you some slack," Janet relented.

Melvin was more relieved than he thought possible. When Emma had said she was running with a rough crowd, he hadn't imagined how true it was.

Young Katy Coleman staggered into the kitchen looking hungover, only wearing a white bath towel. She was twenty-one years old with long brunette hair, deep brown eyes, sleek and beautiful where Emma was merely pretty. Which gave Katy a lot of satisfaction.

"My suitcase isn't in my room. What happened to it?" she asked.

"It's a big house. Sometimes things get mislaid," Hanna replied. "This isn't a hotel."

"Where are my clothes from yesterday?" she asked. "The clothes I had at the pool."

"We burned them," Hanna answered.

"You burned my clothes?" Katy said.

"Maybe we can find a maid's uniform for you?" Janet suggested with a grin.

"Hopefully not one of those tear-away porn outfits Emma likes," Katy responded. "At least Emma is working for a change. I thought she was the estate whore."

"I have a few duties to keep me occupied," Emma calmly answered, leaning across the kitchen counter.

Janet and Hanna exchanged looks. Emma had quietly informed her father the day before about her marriage. And pregnancy. No one had told her bratty sister.

Katy sat at the table as Hanna poured coffee for her. Her father watched with a cool detachment. He had been badly confused about which daughter to believe, recalling the shame of it. Emma emerged from the kitchen.

"Scrambled eggs, pancakes, and sausages," she announced, carrying many plates at once. As she had while working for Marge's coffee shop.

Janet did the serving. Emma returned to the kitchen for another tray. Katy still seemed surprised that such a famous jetsetter like Janet Rawlings was sitting at the table with her father and a house servant. She noticed Wendy Shin at a desk in the corner, remembering how the scary young woman had pawed her thighs at the pool the previous day. While she lay naked and helpless, surrounded by the sudden appearance of Farranti Decant's film crew. There was something dangerous about the petite woman with her black hair tied back and dark watchful eyes. Wendy noticed Katy looking and gave her a sly wink.

"I need clothes," Katy complained, adjusting the towel.

"Why bother?" Janet said with a grin. "Thanks to Farranti, your naked images are all over the internet. You're the country's latest slut."

"I am not a slut!" Katy protested. "Emma is the slut!"

A stocky man in his early 40s entered the dining room, short black hair and balding. He was dressed in an expensive blue suit ready for work.

"Good morning, my loves," John said, tapping Hanna on the shoulder and giving Janet a peck on the cheek.

"Oh, my God, you are Jackson John Latimer," Katy said, jumping up. "You're really him."

"That's what my security people tell me every day, after the DNA check," John replied.

"DNA check?" Katy asked.

"Can't have me being impersonated by a clone," he mischievously answered. "The financial markets would go crazy."

He sat down at the head of the table next to Janet, taking her hand, and looked toward the kitchen.

"Need help, sweetheart?" he called.

"No thank you, dearest. Just getting the orange juice," Emma answered.

Dearest? Katy wondered. Is my sister is a billionaire's mistress? How juicy is that?

Emma arrived with fruit cups. John jumped up to assist.

"I don't believe your sister and I have been formally introduced," John said, gallantly pouring a glass of orange juice for Katy.

"Mr. Latimer, this is my little sister, Katy Coleman. She is going on trial next month for accomplice to rape," Emma said without particular emotion. "Katy, this is Jackson John Latimer. You are a guest at his estate."

"It's an honor to meet you, sir. Sorry I'm not to better dressed," Katy stuttered, tucking the towel tighter.

"From what I understand, you'll be wearing an orange jumpsuit soon," John calmly replied, taking a bite of scrambled eggs. "Good morning, Mr. Coleman. We haven't met before, either."

"Thank you for inviting us, Mr. Latimer," Melvin said, getting his first close look at his new son-in-law. "We should talk later."

"I agree, though keep your expectations low," John ominously warned.

"We know how you closed the factory, and undermined Langsford's real estate. And I understand why," Melvin confessed. "I won't ask for mercy. What they did to Emma that night was unforgivable. But if you could help Katy, it would be a mercy. She is Emma's sister, after all."

"Emma's contributions to my household are deeply appreciated," John said. "And she has already approached me on this subject. But your daughter's guilt is clear. She belongs in prison with the others."

Katy began to tear up. `

"Mr. Latimer, I think Katy and I can work this out," Emma pleaded.

"That's between the two of you, Emma," John answered. "But I haven't forgotten what they did do you in the nightclub. I will show them no more mercy than they showed you. For most of them, even less than that."

Katy and Melvin were startled by the anger, made worse coming from a billionaire who could back up his threats with immense resources. Even Emma grew quiet, her head down. John realized he'd gone too far.

"I'm sorry, dearest," he said, going to hug her. "Harry and Janet have talked about this, too. It's just that I love you so much."

"Can we talk tonight? I have some ideas," Emma requested.

"Yes, of course. I'll hear everything you have to say," he promised.

"Sir? May I ask? How long have you known my sister?" Katy inquired, seeing the adoring way he looked at Emma.

"It's been a year," John answered. "Though after our first meeting, it took me four months to convince her to marry me."

"Married? To you?" Katy asked, her jaw dropping.

"For the last eight months," Emma said, putting on her ring. "We're making plans for a bigger wedding in June."

She pulled John closer, laying her head against his broad shoulder. He had the biggest smile. Katy dropped down into her chair.

"Fuck me," Katy moaned.

* * * * * *

"Well, this is quite the gathering," Harry said, entering the conference room on the 22nd floor of the Trexadon Building. Around the table were twenty lawyers, business executives, and personal assistants. Along with Emma, Janet, and Jimmy Hopkins.

"Operation Mendacious," Jimmy said, folders stacked in front of him. "This one is going to cost more than the others. Is Mr. Latimer okay with that?"

"Will it cost over a billion dollars?" Harry asked.

"No, but it might cost fifty million," his wife suggested. "On the other hand, we might end up owning a college with good market value. You're making a profit on Langsford. This might turn a profit, too."

"Who would have guessed that revenge could be used as an investment model?" Harry said with a grin, taking a seat next to Janet at the head of the table.

"This is the case of Alice Marbury," Emma said, taking control of the meeting. "You've all seen the reports. She was abused and destroyed to advance the careers of ambitious employees at the Lizzie Borden Art Gallery, supported by the president of Mendacious Frontier College. I want to go after all of them."

"How many is that?" Russel Fours asked, a 40ish Native American attorney specializing in contracts. He was a big fellow with dark eyes and heavy jowls.

"Six employees of the gallery including the director. Twenty-eight students and spectators who thought humiliating Alice would be fun," Emma replied. "I intend to redefine fun for them."

No one at the table could miss Emma's dark frown. This was clearly no ordinary mission for her. As Jackson John Latimer's wife, she already commanded automatic respect, but there was more to her now. She had proven to be a competent, steady, and articulate advocate. And she wasn't alone. No one in the room was held in higher regard than Jimmy Hopkins, and he was just as passionate.

"Tell us what you need, Mrs. Latimer," Russel requested.

"Their attack on Alice was using her friendship against her, supported by a contract filled with penalties that put Alice at their mercy," Emma responded. "Then they exploited the gallery's resources to publicize the event. We'll play the same game, which is why I need our best and brightest on this one."

The big video screen activated at the end of the room. It showed the primary targets, photos of the gallery, the college, and timelines. Emma went to stand beside it, holding a pointer. She was dressed in a conservative gray business suit let out at the waist. She was just about to indicate the first panel when there was a knock on the door.

"Mrs. Latimer? You have visitors. They say it's important," the young secretary hesitantly interrupted.

"It can't wait?" Emma asked.

"They say it can't," Miss Williams answered.

Wendy entered the formal meeting with Melvin at her side, both dressed sharply for the eminent company.

"Mrs. Latimer, I'm sorry, but you put me in charge of your family," Wendy apologized. "Mr. Coleman has asked to participate in the mission, and I think you should let him."

Had it come from anyone else, Emma would have dismissed the idea out of hand, but not from Wendy. She never requested anything frivolous. Her dark eyes were scrunched under a furrowed brow.

"Father?" Emma inquired. He was finding it hard to speak, not expecting so many important men and women. Once again, he was amazed by the power his daughter had acquired.

"Darling, we have repair work to do," Melvin said, stumbling over his words. "And I know how important getting justice for wronged women is to you. Let me help. Please. Please let me redeem myself."

Emma looked at the faces around her. Janet and Harry were nodding. Most in the room weren't sure what to think. Emma turned to Jimmy.

"Your father has skills we can use," Jimmy said, much to Melvin's relief. Emma didn't need to think further.

"Take a seat, father," she decided. And then she reached out to Wendy, drawing her forward and whispering, "Stand here, beside me. And thank you."

The meeting lasted two hours, many impressed by the scope of the plot, and a little shocked. As Emma said, it was complicated and would require a sharp legal staff. None doubted their leadership.

* * * * * *

"Em, can we talk?" Katy asked, knocking on the office door. Emma looked up from a busy computer screen. Katy had found gray gym clothes and white socks.

"Of course, little sister. Now that you're more famous than I am," Emma answered, waving to a chair near the desk.

"Okay, you win," Katy conceded. "You tricked me into getting naked on the internet. Sitting on that stupid motorcycle. Falling off the horse in a cow pasture. And you pretended to be a maid when you're one of the richest women on the planet. You have total power over me. What are you going to do with it?"

"What should I do with it? You cheered on criminals who were raping me."

"I had a long talk with Janet Rawlings, who is amazing," Katy mentioned. "And Hanna, who is stern but fair. Dad's not too happy with me. And I know how your husband feels. Can I try to explain? Even if it sounds lame, and stupid, and pathetic?"

Let's go outside," Emma said, using her private door to the patio. Katy followed her to the pool, seeing Wendy only a few yards away.

"Isn't she too small to be your bodyguard?" Katy whispered.

"Miss Shin is a black belt in three disciplines," Emma answered. "She's a crack shot with a pistol, and can throw a knife through an attacker's heart at twenty paces."

"Fuck," Katy muttered.

They stopped at the hot tub under a canopy adjoining the pool. "Take off your clothes," Emma ordered.

"Again? Didn't you humiliate me enough yesterday?" Katy protested.

"This isn't humiliation. It's something Janet taught me."

Emma began to disrobe, getting down in the warm water. She was beginning to show. Katy quickly joined her. And was surprised when Wendy rushed up to confiscate her clothes.

"Goddamn it, I need those back!" Katy protested. "It took me all morning to find them."

"We'll talk about it, Miss Coleman," Wendy replied in her soft Georgia accent. A moment later, she was back at the Tiki bar, mixing a Manhattan for Katy and spicy pomegranate juice for Emma. And watching both of them like a hawk.

"I think she likes you," Emma said with a wink.

"I'm not gay," Katy answered.

"That really doesn't matter to Wendy. She'll have you if she wants you," Emma replied.

Katy felt the strangest urging, looking deeper at the petite warrior. Something about her strength was alluring. She tried to shake it off.

Once they settled in, Emma explained, "Janet says this is a good way to fully communicate. Woman to woman. With nothing between us. What do you have to say?"

"Okay, here goes," Katy began, sucking a deep breath. "We didn't see each other very often while you were in school. You didn't have the money to fly home to Langsford, and always had extra summer jobs keeping you busy. I was still in high school. We'd only see each other at Grandma's in Chicago for Thanksgiving. I didn't know you, but all your friends kept saying terrible things about you. Of you being a snob. Dissing rural bumpkins like us. Sleeping with your professors to get better grades."

"Which wasn't true," Emma felt a need to say.

"I didn't know that. Judy and Tricia were your closest friends. I thought they were staying in touch with you. But you weren't speaking with me. I only found out later how jealous they'd become. I was jealous, too. You were living the dream, and I was stuck in Langsford. A short road to nowhere."

Emma couldn't believe it. Was her sister crying? No. It must be a trick. But an effective one. At least Katy was making an effort.

"When they told me about the nightclub, I felt pressured to go along with it. And no one said anything about raping you. I swear. I don't think they even planned that, it just sort of spun out of control."

Emma had wondered about that, too.

"I got caught up in the moment," Katy continued. "I hated you so much for ignoring me. Leaving me behind. You had everything, and I had nothing."

"You had the same chances I did, if you'd bothered to study and apply yourself."

"Please remember, I'm not as smart as you," Katy pleaded. "I never have been. I'm a party girl. I don't pretend anything else. My C+ grades weren't getting me a scholarship to anywhere, let alone New York University. No one even understands how you did that. Everyone thought it was a trick."

"Katy, what do you want from me?" Emma asked.

"Judy and Tricia are going to prison for five years. Samantha is looking at fifteen years if she's found guilty of planning it. I just graduated from Clackamas. I work in a dress shop for minimum wage and commissions. I don't want to spend years in prison."

Now the tears seemed more genuine. Now that they were for herself.

"You want me to drop the charges? After all the terrible things you did to me that night?"

"Yes."

"You've never even said you were sorry."

"Would you believe me if I did?"

"Probably not."

"I can promise to be a better sister, if you give me the chance. And I'll be a devoted aunt to my niece or nephew. You know that."

"Nieces and nephews. I'm going to give John a basketball team," Emma said with a big smile.

Katy stared at her sister like she'd never seen her before. Emma had always been so driven. So focused. Her career had been everything. And here she was, basking in the thought of having a big family. A mother. A wife. Loyal friends like Janet and Hanna.

"If you can't help me, I'm not going to whine about it," Katy decided. "I did what I did. It was bad, and I'm sorry, but I know those are only words."

Emma needed a moment to think. She knew Katy was sincere. For the moment. Would it last? She didn't know, not being a soothsayer. Her sister had always been a little scatterbrained.

"I'll tell you what," Emma offered. "Stay here at the mansion with me for a while. I have projects you can help with. I'll talk to John. He might be willing to help, though you'll really need to kiss up to him."

"I can do that."

"Don't think you'll seduce him. John isn't a college boy thinking with his dick. He's a man. The most wonderful man I've ever known."

Katy saw the love bursting in her sister's eyes and grew envious. Not for John. He was old and growing bald. But she wanted that feeling for herself someday.

"Okay, no seducing," Katy agreed.

Emma leaned forward to kiss Katy on the cheek. "I want this. I want this a lot," she said. "But don't think I'm a fool. I run with a rough crowd these days."

Emma climbed from the hot tub, got dressed, and returned to her office. She had a dozen cases pending. Katy discovered herself alone with nothing to wear, arms crossed over her chest. Wendy came forward, crouching next to the hot tub.

"Do you need something, Miss Coleman?" she asked with a smirk.

* * * * * *

"Honey, I think I'm becoming a bad influence on you," Janet warned, holding Emma's dress and shoes.

"What do you mean?" Emma asked, standing nude next to John's desk.

"When we first met, I could hardly get you to show a bare shoulder. You were so shy and innocent. Now you're naked in the penthouse of a busy office building. And you want me to steal your clothes."

"After what happened in Langsford, I was damaged. Scared of my own shadow," Emma explained. "John deserves more. He's the most wonderful man I've ever known. The perfect husband. I want him to have an exciting wife. An exciting sex life."

"Look, dear, first I got you to go skinny dipping. And naked at the gym. The spa. Naked on the massage table," Janet listed. "I convinced you to play naked tennis at the club, except for our shoes. Your bravery constantly amazes me. But you don't need to hide naked under John's desk."

"I want him to know I'll do anything for him," Emma insisted.

"He already knows that."

"Actions speak louder than words."

Janet laughed. "Okay, I'm your accomplice. Again. I'll be down the hall in Harry's office if you need me. But let me be clear, if Harry wants me to hide under his desk, he's going to be disappointed."

"Do you want to take a picture?" Emma suggested.

"In the worst way, but I was afraid to ask," Janet answered.

Emma stood before John's desk, arms held out. Her breasts were round and firm. She had waxed down below, knowing how her husband liked that. And quite frankly, being pregnant and peeing often, it was more comfortable. At fifteen weeks, she was starting to show more now. Janet couldn't get over how Emma had blossomed in the year since they'd first met. A confident, dynamic young woman. And Janet loved that she was Emma's mentor. Few things in her life had given her such pride. She snapped several quick photos with her phone, knowing the guys would get a big kick out of them.

After Janet left, Emma prepared her surprise, making sure there was plenty of space under the long oak desk. Legend said it had belonged to a British admiral during the days of Napoleon. There was a bit of a musty, salty smell as she got on the floor and scooted back into the shadows. John arrived a few minutes later.

John did not tend to stress over too many things. Staying on an even keel helped him stay focused, though Emma's father, and sister, and that damn town were on his mind. His own mother was still alive, living in Paris. His younger brother was a general contractor in Brisbourne. Both sisters were happily married, living near each other in their native London. There was rarely any family drama. Not like in Emma's. He sat at the desk, turned on the monitor screen, and looked for stock market updates.

Something was wrong. He couldn't be sure what. A sensation. An odd sound. Was it the computer? He gave it a whack. The sound continued. He did not believe in ghosts, and yet, there was a presence. Something touched his thighs!

"Oh, my God," he shouted, looking down. There were two big brown eyes staring up at him from the darkness under the desk. And two delicate hands pawing at his legs. Female. They were stroking. Caressing. It took him a moment to realize it was Emma.

What the fuck? he thought. She'd never done anything like this before.

He was tempted to say something. To ask for an explanation. But she wasn't speaking, her fingers going up and down. Around his calves. Behind his knees. And then back to his thighs, finally reaching up and unbuckling his belt. All in silence. She pulled the belt out and started on his zipper.

John was initially frozen, having no clue what to do. And then he raised his hips, making it easier to pull down his Wrangler cargo pants. She paused just as they reached his knees, and then tugged them down to his ankles, followed by his boxer shorts. Her hands returned to his thighs, now bare, and worked their way up to his growing excitement. Her fingers began to stroke the thick shaft. Slowly. Patiently. A hand massaged his testicles. And then a damp tongue flicked the tip of his penis.

"Dear Lord," he groaned, hunching over, hands flat on the desk. John couldn't believe how aroused he was getting. His focus had always been on school, and business. Though he had pursued Janet with a passion, and enjoyed having her in his bed, Harry had won that fight. They were still best friends.

This was different. He didn't view Emma as innately sensual. She was a thinker, as he was. That she could let herself go like this, for him, was incredibly erotic. Almost overwhelming. Inspiring feelings that had lain dormant in him for so long. When she took him in her mouth, he felt ready to explode.

"Not so fast, sweetheart," Emma whispered, squeezing his balls. "I cancelled all of your appointments for the rest of the day."

When she pushed on his knees, John rolled the chair back against the wall. Emma crawled out, completely naked, her eyes dancing.

"Where are your clothes, darling?" John asked, not seeing them anywhere.

"They got stolen," Emma answered in a husky voice

"Stolen? In the penthouse of a 25-story office building?"

"Thieves are everywhere," Emma warned as she straddled him in the big leather chair. "A year ago, a titan of industry stole my heart. Stole it while pretending to be an ordinary person."

"No, I am the one who was fooled," John said, pulling her close. "I met a shy waitress in a rundown diner who seized my heart on first glance. And she turned out to be daring. Gifted. Amazingly sexy. And she accepted her new role as a rich man's wife with gentle grace. I'm not the only one who loves you."

"You are my inspiration," she answered, kissing him deeply. "We are going to have a wonderful life. Lots of children. Many adventures. Janet will get me on that nude beach in Spain she keeps talking about. But for now, you need to fuck me. Fuck me now, because I need you inside me."

She crawled from the chair, swept objects off the large desk with a swipe of her arm, and laid back, spreading her legs. She was panting, wet and exposed. John's inclination to avoid having sex with a pregnant woman was quickly overcome with baser instincts.

He wasn't rough, but he was steady, setting a pace that he knew Emma liked. Emma squirmed, moaned, and thrashed. John couldn't remember her ever being so excited. He drew her off the desk to the floor for better traction, reentering her with the energy of a teenager. Emma clutched his hips with her fingernails as she cried out, and he came with the force of a hurricane.

"That was wonderful," Emma purred, curled up on the carpet in the middle of the room.

"When we're old and feeble and can't do it anymore," John whispered, still half-dressed lying next to her, "we can remember today and it will all come back."

"I should probably clean up and take a shower," Emma decided, reluctantly finding her feet. It was difficult at first. They had been very active.

"The women's locker room is on the 5th floor, and you have no clothes," John mentioned.

"Will that be a problem?" Emma asked, putting a hand over her breasts and another down below in a classic ENF pose. John laughed, knowing she was joking.

"But no. Really. You can't walk around the building like this," he questioned.

"Jealous others will see me?" she teased, dipping and turning around. John found himself getting hard again.

"What's your real plan?" he asked.

Emma went to the desk, pressing a button on her phone. A moment later, the private door to Harry's office opened. Janet poked her head out.

"You guys are sure taking your time," she said with a grin, seeing Emma naked and John pulling his pants up.

"We didn't waste much time," Emma said, her eyes still glassy. Janet handed her a robe. Emma gratefully smiled and went down the hall to Harry's office where he had a private bathroom. Only at the last minute did she wonder if Harry was there.

"Thank you, Jan. Thank you for everything," John said, embracing her warmly. "You have done so much for Emma. No one could ever have a truer friend."

"I need to thank you," Janet answered. "Things were kind of dull around here until Emma arrived. Same old dates at the club. Paris in the fall. Yachting off Maui. Now every day is an adventure. And she loves you so much. I was afraid you'd never have that."

John sighed. "I've always been lucky. At university. Making friends. Gambling in business. But the luckiest day in my life was the day I met Emma."

* * * * * *

"Look, you're the most famous woman in America," Janet said, sharing reports with Emma on her phone. "Your wedding announcement is topping the news cycle. They're calling it a Cinderella story."

"My privacy is gone," Emma lamented.

"Yeah, that's kind of how it happens," Janet smiled, having been in the spotlight a decade longer. "Will this affect your next mission?"

"Actually, it will help my next mission. Are you ready to get justice for Alice Marbury?"

"You bet I am," Janet replied. "This will be our biggest mission yet."

* * * * * *

The concluding chapter will have a lot of business to wrap up.