Free Fem Dom by Tony Cane-Honeysett Page B

appointment. My name is…” Tara paused. A copy of last week’s People magazine was on the table beside her with a photograph of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie holding a baby on the cover.
    “…Angelina. My phone number is……” Tara paused again, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable revealing anything about herself, especially her own cell phone number.
    “I’ll call back.” She panicked and hung up quickly. “Shit!” Tara said out load to no one but herself realizing that this wasn’t going to be as straightforward as she’d first thought.
    She was opening a door to a whole new world. But what was she so scared of? Fear of the unknown? Now she was annoyed with herself. This was stupid. She needed to be stronger than this. She was trying to save her marriage, dammit!
    Tara rang again. “Hi, I just called. My number is 952-615-4040.” Tara hung up.
    Now what? She wondered. Just sit there and wait for a phone call that might never come? That was no good. That wasn’t being in control . She thought for a minute, then grabbed the Yellow Pages from a cupboard. She started flipping through it. Maybe this would require some professional help. She stopped at Private Detectives and scanned the list of names. There was only a handful. A small box ad for ex-cop Jack Kelsey caught her eye.

CHAPTER 6
    Kurt Fitzgerald and Charlie Knutson, a junior account executive at Bergenson & Adler, walked out of the Delta terminal at Louisville International Airport and straight into a waiting limo.
    The car sped away towards downtown and the headquarters of Rebakor. Fitz had a large leather portfolio with him. Power Point presentations were all fine and dandy when it came to strategy and planning meetings but when it came to judging creative work, most clients preferred to see and feel hard copies in their hands.
    Fitz knew this was his golden opportunity to shine. He had to maximize this moment to steal some of the glory Clem had been basking in. Buddying up to Molinaire was not necessarily going to be a walk in the park. The Rebakor marketing chief had to really like the campaign Fitz and Charlie were about to show him. But Fitz also needed to drive a wedge between Molinaire and Clem and then step in between them.
    An angry Clem was an unstable Clem and an unstable Clem was exactly what Fitz wanted. Hell, he’d even blow Molinaire if he had to in order to win him over. Any opportunity to screw Golden Balls was too good to miss. He was going to grab that opportunity by the balls and squeeze for all it was worth. The prize? Running the show at Bergenson & Adler and Clem Drew would be history.
    The fear of Clem taking the Rebakor business away with him and starting his own agency was obviously more than a concern to Frank Bergenson: it was becoming all-consuming. He’d seen it before and never clearer than when he looked in the mirror. After all, that’s what he and his young advertising partner Lewis Adler did. They started Bergenson & Adler with an account they’d stolen from the extinct Fullwell & Partners ad agency where they both worked. Maybe that was why Frank was showing signs of paranoia. What goes around comes around.
    Frank was leaving a legacy that depended on his agency remaining intact and flourishing. He’d gotten his reputation for being a wily old fox by making the big decisions based more on his gut than logic. And even though Frank had absolutely no evidence that Clem had even contemplated pulling a number, that little voice inside him was talking and he was listening. Sure, Clem was bound to learn of Fitz’s Louisville trip soon enough but that was the idea. It would take Clem down a few pegs and scupper any convictions that he had Molinaire in his pocket. But the trick was to not piss off their new and biggest client in the process.
    Frank Bergenson teed off at the third hole and landed his shot in the brush though he didn’t seem too bothered. After all, the purpose of this game was not golf. It was more a