In It For My Wife Page 5

  John looked from Claudia to Ben, who he was surprised to see rolling his eyes.

  “We’re here because she didn’t like the yacht that I chose to buy her for our wedding anniversary,” Ben said with a sigh.

  “Stop making me sound so shallow!” she cried. “I told you to consult me before making any purchase beyond $500,000. I haven’t made a movie in over a year. This money is fleeting if we’re not careful. You’re not working. We need to set a good example to our children about money management. Children who came from places with no running water, I might add.”

  “Oh, so it’s your money now,” Ben sneered.

  “Well, darling, I don’t see you pulling any weight,” she snapped.

  “You said you weren’t going to make me feel less-than about your success,” Ben replied.

  “I’m just saying—“

  The counselor-with-no-name then interrupted. “Let’s move on around the circle and come back to this issue of the yacht after we finish introductions.”

  Claudia pouted. Ben leaned back and crossed his arms in front of himself. Their body language was closed off and hostile, John thought. The least the dude could do is touch his wife to let her know he’s still on her side, no matter what. They have way bigger problems than we do.

  The counselor then turned to the next couple.

  “What about you folks?”

  The next couple, across from John and Heather, was a familiar technology industry figure whom John had worked with frequently. His wife was an heiress. They introduced themselves as Lila and Will. It was almost ridiculous to John that they weren’t using their last names, as just about all the people in the room had stories about in the media on a monthly basis.

  Will started in right away; no beating around the bush.

  “We can’t decide on which preschool will put our Buffy on a Harvard track,” Will said.

  Lila nodded and said, “The Montessori preschool in our area has the highest rate of Ivy League graduates.”

  Will huffed, “And I am not sending our daughter to a hippy-dippy preschool.”

  Heather piped up. “It sure can be competitive. And Buffy is how old?”

  Lila and Will looked at each other, and then Lila patted her tummy. “Not quite second trimester.”

  Heather and John looked at each other. John caught the twinkle in Heather’s eye and nearly busted out laughing. He felt like they were in senior year AP calculus and their teacher, Mr. Buttz, had just ripped a huge fart. Juvenile? Yes. But he could hardly believe, and he sensed that Heather was with him on this, that these people could consider what they had as a real problem.

  Heather and John had to work hard not to look at each other through the rest of group therapy. And to John, it felt awesome to be back on the same page as his wife.

  Chapter 12

  Heather

  Back at the cabin, Heather and John talked. Like, really talked.

  “I never realized how small our problems were,” Heather said. “I mean, we have a real problem, don’t get me wrong. But those people have everything and they can’t even agree what to do with it.”

  John chuckled. “Yeah. It’s pretty sad. Please tell me let’s never argue about which private jet to buy.”

  Heather laughed and said, “Deal. You know, I just really hoped to come here and help get over whatever is blocking my libido, and I have to tell you … hold on, what’s this?”

  She approached the bed, and noticed a stack of clothes that were left there with a note. It read, “Please wear these to supper, courtesy of Bliss. Our end-of-day lecture will be conducted by Guru Dave himself, who requires that everyone in his presence wear beige. Happy trails! Love, Burke.”

  Heather shook her head. “There’s no way in hell I’m wearing this fashion disaster.” She handed John the note.

  “Yeah … no. I’m not doing this. But I will search through the pockets for sugar packets.”

  Heather laughed and said, “good luck! But maybe we’ll have something more substantial than rabbit food for dinner.”

  “I’m not hopeful about that,” he said.

  Heather laughed again, “I’m sure we’re free to leave any time we want. We can just go now if you want.”

  He growled. “I want to have the opportunity to punch one of these weirdos in the gut first.”

  She nodded and backed away, wishing silently that if John wanted to stay, he could at least cite saving their marriage as the primary reason.

  “You know,” she said, with an edge of mischief. “I liked it when you took charge back there at the spa and dragged me out. Kind of turned me on, actually.”

  She knew group therapy had been a bust. John had clammed up. She should have known there was no way he was going to spill details about their sex life — or lack thereof — to a bunch of famous rich people. She was kind of relieved. She didn’t trust this place to keep their secrets. He was a private, protective man. That was something about him that had never changed from day one.

  Out of the blue, John grabbed his wife around the waist, pulled at the v-neck of her shirt, pulled her pink lace bra to the side and covered her left breast in his mouth. Heather gasped. He kissed her there hungrily, claiming what belonged to him. He made her gasp even deeper when his teeth ever so gently scrapped her nipple.

  Heather cleared her head. They needed to focus. “Let’s get a game plan ready because I would really like to know what Lisa meant by ‘donating to the cause.’”

  John muttered, “Mmhmm,” in agreement, but continued fondling and kissing both her breasts now.

  “I say,” she continued, trying to stifle her moans, her panties getting wetter by the second, “um …oh god … let’s raid Burke’s office tonight, get our keys, our phones, and get the eff out of here,” she said.

  John suddenly stopped his ravishing of her breasts. He released his grip on her, stood back and looked at his wife like she was a different person. He threw back his head and laughed. He seemed pleased with her devious plan. “We’re going to need a a good cover story for when we get caught,” he laughed out.

  Heather felt elated that she’d made her husband laugh. She could feel her blood rushing to her lower lips, her libido was starting to awaken after … how many months?

  She really liked having a secret plot to escape with John. It felt primal and naughty, like when they were in high school, causing mischief and sneaking out of classes to go make out behind the bleachers.

  But John was no longer a high school kid. John caught her up in his beefy, muscular arms, and owned her in a kiss, the kind of deep, wet, hungry, warm kiss that promises much bigger and naughtier things.

  Heather was ready for it. She had one hand on his belt buckle and the other hand stroking his cock on the outside of his pants, feeling his erection for her.

  Heather was just about to unzip and set Little John free when there was a knock on the cabin door and a greeting from their counselor, Burke. “Time for dinner!”

  John heaved a sigh into Heather’s neck. “I’m going to roast that guy myself if I don’t see any meat on the table at dinner.”

  Before heading to dinner, they formulated their plan. Unfortunately, it involved wearing the khaki fashion disaster so the two of them could hide in plain sight.

  Chapter 13

  Of course.

  Of course dinner was a black bean patty and half a kale chip.

  Heather was so hungry she couldn’t even fathom letting John try to feel her up again under the picnic table.

  Instead, they looked at each other and silently they agreed this was the last straw. With locked eyes they synchronized their courage to make a break for it.

  At the same time, Burke had made his way up to the front of the picnic shelter to address the crowd. There were at least 50 other couples there from all walks of life, and there was some excited murmuring among the attendees.

  John reached over and grabbed Heather’s hand. They locked eyes. and told each other silently, their plan w
as in the works. Then, John’s face changed and suddenly he was all ears for what Burke was saying.

  “Howdy folks,” Burke said. “I have the great honor of introducing the man, the myth, the legend … our fearless leader, the found of Bliss Boot Camp and Bliss Institute International …”

  What the hell is Bliss Institute International? Geez, I really did not read the fine print, Heather thought, getting a severely uneasy feeling about this place. Outrageously expensive entrance fees? A central, mysterious, universally admired leader? Starvation? Isolation? Ugly uniforms?

  The light finally dawned. She turned to John. “Honey? I think I signed us up for a cult.”

  Chapter 14

  John

  He hoped to God Heather could handle this. He was playing along to establish an alibi, so they could sneak out of here and ransack Burke’s office for his keys.

  He was totally ignoring her and listening to Burke, who continued, “Our main event, Guru Dave, is here to solve all of your relationship problems, and to invite you into the fold of our free love community. But I’ll let him tell you more about it and give an exciting update about what your generous donations have helped us achieve today. Dave, take it away!”

  John’s ears nearly started to ring with all of the shouting and screaming and applause that erupted as the crowd instantly rose to their feet. He thought he saw a lady faint, even. Instinctively, he made a move to help her, but saw that she was instantly whisked out of the room by a couple of burly counselors.

  John squinted to get a better look, but he could not see anything.

  Finally the crowd quieted down and put down their arms as another man started speaking. He was not clad in khaki but wore some kind of an odd bathrobe that hung to the floor. He had a long, blonde beard, intense blue eyes, the shape and expression of which reminded John of the depictions of Rasputin, the ancient manipulator, womanizer and, some thought, hypnotist.

  Dave put his hands up to quiet the crowd. He had a quiet, even voice that demanded everyone be silent so they could hear. Under other circumstances, John could see why people liked the guy and followed his directions. He had kind face and a calm way of speaking, using as few words of possible. Like, the Buddha or the Dali Lama.

  “Your generous donations to the Institute means that as of today, we were able to complete the purchase of this ground you stand on today. The world famous Piney Point Resort will now be home to the Institute, and be a beacon of love to the world, vibrating our message while keeping all of us, the enlightened ones, close together.”

  John wasn’t sure what any of this meant, but he didn’t like it. Everyone else, however, did. They were cheering again.

  Dave continued, “As of right now, we have increased our security measures so no one can get on to the property unless they are enlightened member of Bliss. We will begin breaking ground tomorrow on our vegetable garden, and our own workers will began the work of disconnecting all electrical wiring to the camp from the outside world.”

  Heather squeezed John’s hand. “I don’t like this,” she whispered in his ear, on her tip toes.

  John squeezed back, and hoped she understood why they were still there.

  And then, scanning the crowd, John saw something truly sinister. Burke was walking around with a tray of small white paper cups, urging people to drink.

  “And now, we celebrate with herbal tea,” Dave was saying.

  Fuck that, John thought. I’ve seen enough documentaries to know I ain’t supposed to ingest any free shit getting passed around a crowd of fawning worshippers. This is entirely 100 percent what they call … fucked up.

  Chapter 15

  Heather

  She had had about enough.

  Heather let go of John’s hand and marched over to the nearest counselor, standing at the perimeter of the shelter.

  She approached the large man, dressed in khaki from head to toe like everyone else in the place who had drunk the Kool-Aid. She demanded their money back.

  After a few moments, the counselor went to confer with another counselor, and then another. Then, one of them left the picnic shelter and jogged toward the lodge.

  Heather stood there with her arms crossed, watching the counselors, watching Dave, and watching her husband. In a moment that she desperately hoped everyone missed, John turned to her. She gave him the most subtle of nods, and he nodded back.

  Moments later, one of the counselors returned with a folder. As a group, they gathered around her, showing her the details of all the forms she had filled out. She acted overwhelmed, exasperated, as if she didn’t understand any of it. “Look, I just want my money back,” she said.

  As more counselors approached to try to keep her quiet, eventually Burke made his way over to her.

  “Heather, what seems to be the problem? Let’s step outside so we won’t disturb the lecture, OK?”

  Heather agreed with Burke. But instead of letting Burke lead her out the back of the shelter, she bolted through the crowd, leading all the counselors who were with her right past where John was standing, and then abruptly turned 45 degrees and headed out the side of the shelter and down the hill, out of sight of the main lodge.

  She kept them all there for at least another ten minutes, sobbing and telling them she didn’t realize what all they had signed up for. How she was confused. How she was unsatisfied with the accommodations, the spa, how she had felt deceived.

  Heather got everything off her chest while simultaneously buying time for John to carry out their plan without being seen.

  “…and on top of all that, I’m so hungry!” she shouted.

  A female counselor present put a hand on her to calm her down. “I understand. But as you agreed to when you made the payment, you have to trust the process. Do you trust the process?”

  Finally, Heather couldn’t keep it up any longer, and told Burke she needed to go to bed. “I guess I’ll be ready to trust the process when I get some sleep. I’m just going to go lie down for a bit, and then I think I’ll feel better,” she said.

  She held her breath, hoping Burke would buy it.

  Burke kept her in suspense for a beat, then patted her on the shoulder. “Very well. Rest up, and we’ll see you and John at our sunrise stretching session down by the lake, bright and early!”

  The group of counselors broke up and headed back up the trail to the picnic shelter.

  Heather headed back to the cabin and exhaled. She had just delivered the best acting moment of her entire life and John hadn’t even been there to see it.

  She just hoped that small diversion was enough. It was getting dark, and she could barely see to gather up their luggage. And then, all there was left to do was wait.

  Chapter 16

  John

  Keys? Check.

  Phones? Check.

  Passwords and routing numbers to all of Bliss Institute International’s checking accounts to hand over to the FBI to investigate these clowns? Double, triple check.

  It had been almost too easy, John thought as he hustled in the dark down the trail back to the cabin to meet Heather.

  He had the disadvantage of not carrying a flashlight so he would not be seen. Heather had the brilliant idea of having me grab the keys to Burke’s office that he had clipped to his belt like some kind of ring master.

  Even better than finding a desk drawer full of keys, phones, passwords and checkbooks was Burke’s own personal stash. Dude had a mini fridge full of girl Scout cookies under his desk. Samoas. Peanut butter patties. All the good shit. John stuffed the keys and phones, first aid supplies and matches into his pockets — he’ll say this for these god awful uniforms, the cargo pockets helped steal shit — and crammed as many boxes under his arms as he could carry without dropping them.

  John was halfway through a sleeve of cookies when he made it back to the cabin, where Heather was waiting in back with their bags.

  “Where the hell have you been? Do you have our stuff?”

  “Oh yeah,” he
said through a mouthful of carbs. “And even better than that.” He handed the half-full sleeve of cookies to his wife, whose eyes grew huge with hunger. She snatched the cellophane sleeve away from his hands and shouted, “Thin mints!!”

  Chapter 17

  Heather

  We are lost.

  We are so lost. But it’s OK, right? We’re going to be fine. We are both highly intelligent people who should be able to find their way back to their car in the dark … right? I mean, it was a straight shot from the parking lot to the cabin … right?

  Heather thought all of these things as she and John trudged through the undergrowth, alternating between using their phones as a flashlight and trying to find a signal to call someone to let them know they were leaving early. It was a good idea to let someone know … just in case of the worst possible scenario.

  But she didn’t say anything out loud to John about being lost. She didn’t “trust the process” anymore when it came to those freaks back at the camp, but she sure as hell trusted her husband, and herself. She kept her fear to herself over the fact that they were lost because, even if they were lost, she was fine being lost with him.

  Sweaty, tired, and coming down off a sugar high, she was wondering, though, how long they were going to keep walking. There were no lights anywhere to indicate they were any closer to the main parking lot than when they had started. And trudging out of the camp was a lot more uphill than the trek into the camp.

  Finally, John, out of breath and probably as equally spent as she was, stopped.

  “We’re stopping here for the night,” he said.