Date: Wed, 5 Sep 2001 22:28:14 -0700 From: gymhunk Subject: Black and White, Chapter 54. All Disclaimers BLACK AND WHITE Chapter 54--Negotiations We started with Joe's suggestions for what had to go and what needed to be trimmed back. The list was pretty long. But, considering that Dave didn't have a job right now, he was willing to do all of the yanking out. However, he wasn't so sure he wouldn't butcher the plants he'd be cutting back, so he thought Joe should be there to supervise that. New plants would require more discussion. We didn't have the plant name knowledge that Joe did. Even the Western Garden Book couldn't help us as the descriptions were too brief or there were too many different varieties to know which ones he meant. I sent an e-mail off to Joe, asking when he was coming up next, so we could talk about his plans for our yard, and letting him know about a new task brewing at the house behind us (including the juicy gossip about who may be buying it). I concluded the e-mail by asking when he and Ray were going to meet up again. As the full partners meeting was not planned until 10:00 a.m., we decided to dash out to Costco and do a little shopping. Ron was working, so we made sure to get into his cashiering line. He told us again how much he regretted not knowing about our housewarming until it was too late, but he insisted we invite him to the next one. He'd heard some scandalous goings on had occurred. We smiled guiltily. Another cute checker waved at us. I couldn't remember his name. "Ken," replied Ron to my obvious glance in the other checker's direction. "Hot bottom that takes big dick easily. He's always telling me about some conquest of his who was hung like a horse. He's mostly into bookstores, gyms, and cruising the Internet. In other words, a major slut!" he laughed. "Not that Ross and I haven't found hot sex in all those places. He's just found it more frequently." I looked at Dave, but his eyes said "some other time." He was too concerned about the partners' meeting to be entertaining. I smiled at Ken, and walked over to chat briefly with him while Dave paid for the groceries. After telling him that we hadn't forgotten about him, I broke the bad news that we just didn't have the time today to entertain. He gave me his phone number again, adding discretely how hungry his asshole was for big dick. I assured him that nine and eleven inches would fill his butt nicely. "At the same time," he leered. I blanched at the thought of both big dicks in any asshole, but it was possible. I told him that if he could handle it, we'd sure be up for it. By the time we got home, we were ready for lunch. I fixed a couple of sandwiches and a small salad while Dave checked for messages. Leon had left a message (as he'd gone out for lunch) that the partners were still going at it hot and heavy. "No news yet, I'm afraid. Myrna is still in there, so I haven't gotten any dirt from her, either," he'd said. "They're ordering lunch in, so I don't know when I'll see her." Dave nibbled at his salad and ate only half his sandwich. His nervousness was catching. I was pacing the floors, too. We watched the stock market for a few minutes, but drifted away. I turned to the History Channel, then, Animal Planet, but whenever a commercial came on, we drifted again. Shortly after 1:00 p.m., Leon called. "I got only a couple of words out of Myrna when she came out to get more coffee. The coup happened, and now they're talking about what to do with your lawsuit, Dave. Tempers are flaring and accusations are spilling from every corner of the room." "Any news on who'll be on the board?" Dave asked. "Not a word," Leon sighed. "Myrna wanted to tell them that others may be leaving because of their Neanderthal views, but decided to keep her mouth shut and mind her place." "Just as well. I don't think John will name names, but he'll let them know they need to do something with the existing staff or there'll be even more turnover," Dave sighed. "Keep a positive attitude, Dave," Leon urged. "At least, we have a new board. That's a real good sign." "Yeah, you're right, Leon. I'm just so anxious..." "Yeah, I know," Leon comforted. "I'll hit ya later." "Thanks, Leon. You're a true friend." "No problem, my man." An hour later, John called. "A new board and they wanna talk!" he exulted. "Who?" Dave demanded quickly. "Hargraves, Douglas, Seton, and Menzies from the partners. I don't know about the three public members. But, that doesn't matter," he assured Dave. "They don't count in your litigation. Only the partners will decide that." "Those four are perfect. I know my former boss will want to get out from under this," Dave agreed. "But, settling is gonna be another story." "Have faith, Dave. You, too, Mike. I'm laying out all the cards to them when we meet tomorrow," John revealed. "Tomorrow!" I muttered. "So soon?" "Yeah, don't you wanna get this over with?" John asked. "Well, yeah, but we haven't even talked strategy," I protested. "He has a point, John," Dave added. "Okay, to make you feel better, I'll come over later today and we'll talk strategy," John agreed. "What's a good time?" "When are you available? Mike has taken the week off, and I'm unemployed, ya know," Dave said bitterly. "I know, Dave," John responded solicitously. "This will be over soon and you can have your life back." He paused. "I'll be over this afternoon, say around four?" "Sure," Dave agreed. "We'll be here." After we broke the connection, I suggested we hit the gym and release some of our frustration. "Besides," I added, "we need to workout, and we'll be bored as hell if we stay home waiting for John to arrive." He agreed. At two in the afternoon, there are few people at the gym. By the time we left at 3:30, it hadn't gotten much better. Our "back day" was finished; we were exhausted, but still keyed up. I patted Dave's hot, round ass in the shower, but got little reaction. His mind was miles away. "Thinking strategy, Sweetcheeks?" I asked as we threw our sweaty gym clothes in the washer. "Yeah, that's all I've been thinking about for the last couple of hours," he sighed. "Sorry I didn't react in the showers. I'm just not gonna be good sex until this is over." "I understand, Dave," I commiserated. "I wish it were over, too." Joe hadn't responded to my e-mail yet, but Kurt had called to say that they put in an offer on the house. The owners were going to be contacted tonight. Gene had flown back to Las Vegas this afternoon after signing the papers. He needed to be there for the movers, who were arriving tomorrow morning. His belongings would be placed in storage until he found a place to live. Kurt said Gene hated hotel living, so he'd be finding an apartment as soon as he came back on Wednesday. Dave and I talked about asking Gene to stay with us for a few weeks until the house thing was finished or they had to look elsewhere. As his computer was probably already packed up, I thought it best to call Gene and tell him of our offer. Dave was in no condition to talk to anyone right now, anyway. The phone rang and rang. No answer. The answering machine had probably been disconnected, too. I'd have to remember to call again, later. John arrived at four. He laid out his plan to work on them and get a fat settlement. We pressed him about taking something for his troubles. He wouldn't hear of it. We suggested at least his out-of-pocket costs. Again, no. "I'd PAY to see Lester Mason crash and burn," he laughed. "Too bad that he's taking down the rest of the partners with him. But, they deserve it. They should have stopped him and his bizarre behavior years ago. I have no sympathy for them." "I have some sympathy for my former boss, Mr. Hargraves," Dave sighed. "He was always pretty good to me. The rest of them I didn't know well enough to care what happens." "Again, if he'd been minding the store, he wouldn't be in this fix," John reminded him. "Okay, so how're you going to approach this, John?" I wondered. "Well, you know the amounts we're seeking," he began. We nodded. "I think we don't have a chance in hell of getting any of the punitive damages. That would only work in court. But, we can use it as leverage. Let them think they're getting away with something. But, first, I'll be sure to read back or play back the board meeting where Les and the board berated both of you because of sexual orientation, among other things." "How much are you willing to come down on the $30,000,000?" Dave asked. "Not a nickel," John replied firmly. I gulped loudly. "Geez! That's a ton of money," I whispered hoarsely. "They got that much stashed away in Swiss accounts?" "No, probably not," John signed. "However, I was thinking of getting them to admit that they're in deep shit and that they'd lose REALLY big in court in so many ways, if it went that far. Mason's egregious conduct, including poisoning any future jobs for you in the city will be brought up as well. And I'll blast them about his outrageous (and uncontradicted) statement about Mike being a pedophile. As long as we're suing the firm, they all have to answer for Mason's lunacy. So, when I have them by the balls, I'll toss them a bone. After reminding them that you were partnership material at an early age, and reminding them of that lost income potential, they'll readily agree that the amount we seek is fair." "Damn! I had no idea I'd married such income potential," I snorted, punching Dave's arm. He grinned back at me. "And if they don't cave?" Dave asked tentatively. "They will," John assured us. "They don't really have a choice. Their conduct was incredibly stupid. They got called on it. It's all over. The last chorus to be sung is how much. Thirty million is chump change compared to what they'll lose (if not the entire company) if they take it to court." "And if they get really hard-nosed, would we be willing to settle for less?" I asked, trying to cover all the bases. "Well, if they do, I'll tell them that I have to talk to the two of you. I'll give them a day or two to sweat, then, tell them, 'FUCK, NO!'" he laughed. "They'll make another offer, I'm sure after that. However, I'll be jumping in their shit and telling them that you're already firm on the dollar figure. You're more than willing to take it to court. You have nothing to lose and they have everything to lose; not just $30,000,000, but also some or all of an additional $300,000,000." "Damn!" I swore again. "You really think we can get that out of them?" "It won't be all at once," John said. "They don't have that kinda money laying about. However, we could suggest the $30,000,000 over the next 35 years or so. Make it 30 years. It divides better!" he chortled. "Well, we could get them to start at a lower number per year and raise it each year until the entire $30,000,000 is paid off," Dave suggested. "I'm more concerned about how we get them to guarantee that they'd come across with it over all those years," I cautioned. "That's a lot of dough into the future. Most of those guys won't even be around in 30 or 35 years." "I've thought of that as well," John smiled. "We'll make them carry a faithful performance bond in decreasing amounts for each year of the pay out." "Won't that cost them a bundle?" Dave asked. "In the beginning, yes," John agreed. "But, over the life of the agreement, it protects your interests. They can afford it. We could also allow them to pay it off at anytime using some agreed upon statement concerning future values of the pay out." "But, where should we start?" I asked. The phone rang. Dave got up to answer it, hoping it would be Leon. It was. "My MAN!" Dave nearly shouted into the receiver. "Whazzup?" Dave listened for several minutes, his grin widening with each tick of the clock. He gave us several thumbs up before he and Leon said their farewells. "Old man Mason and that doddering old coot, Maitland, are retired," Dave began. "The partnership group, then the new board, fired their butts, or rather, withdrew their waiver to work after 65. They only needed a quorum of the board to vote them out the door and with the law professor that was on our side, we kicked their cans to the curb." "That IS good news," John smiled. "Oh, and there's more," Dave continued. "Myrna is supposed to type up the minutes of the partnership meeting and the board meeting tomorrow. It's too late to really start on them now, and everyone was tired. So, they told Myrna to go home and come back refreshed tomorrow morning. Well, instead of heading for home, she and Leon hit one of the local watering holes to gossip (far enough away that none of the partners should discover them together). Myrna said it was a real donnybrook. Fur was flying. Mason was being roasted and pilloried by all the non-board partners nonstop. His defense was vigorous, but went nowhere. That was when they had the vote of no- confidence in the old board." "And the new board?" "Elected immediately, but it was a close vote, 6-4. That's when they told Mason and Maitland their butts were on the street," Dave laughed. "I wish I'd been there to see that. Myrna said it made her want to stand up and cheer, but she kept her cool." "So, what about our suit, Dave?" I pressed. "I'm getting to that, White Bread. Have patience," he grinned. John leaned forward eagerly, hoping most of his work was already done for him. His nemesis was off the board and out of the firm, so there wasn't much left to go after. His grin was as wide as Dave's. "Okay, I'll try, but the suspense is killing me," I murmured. "Me, too, Mike," John agreed. "So, Mason and Maitland left as they weren't partners nor on the board anymore," Dave returned to the story. "That leaves us with eight partners. From then on, all votes were 6-2. As the two 'retiring' members were the cause of this fiasco concerning us, they were asked to return for deliberations about what kind of settlement to go with. They would be paying as well as the remaining partners. They didn't like it, but they were in no position to resist. They argued about taking it to court, but all except Mason decided that was too risky and would probably ruin the firm. All of them (except Mason) told stories about clients who had told them in clear terms that they were going elsewhere if this ever got out. The partners were running scared." "So, what did they decide?" I pressed. "Just can't stand a good story with details, can ya?" Dave laughed. "Okay, here's where they are. They know their goose is cooked. They're hoping to dodge the bullet on the punitive damages, but they gotta do something for ordinary damages. Mason held out, but after they explained to him that he was going to have a fat lawsuit against him personally by us if he didn't agree, he caved. He knew he couldn't win. They went over all the arguments they knew you were gonna make, John, including all the ones we went over a few minutes ago. My former boss was the one leading the charge on my potential, knowing full well that would be the cornerstone of our negotiating position. We had them dead on paper and they had nothing to contrast with it." "Fuck, Dave! How much?" I insisted. I'm such a mercenary, I decided. "Okay, hold on to your teeth," he smiled. "How does $20,000,000 NOW sound?" "FUCK!" I shouted. "Now?" John asked. "Yeah, I guess they have it stashed somewhere or can lay their collective hands on it," Dave said. "I know for a fact they take stock in new companies they help set up and several of those companies have had an enormous return. They could just sell some of that stock, even at today's depressed prices, and realize a huge gain." "Shit!" I said to no one in particular. "Twenty million isn't petty cash." "No, it isn't, Mike," John agreed. "So, whatcha think?" "Uh, well," Dave stammered. "It would be like winning Powerball for $40,000,000 and taking Investor's Choice. You get about half the amount all at once, less taxes, of course," I observed. "Wow!" Dave smiled. "That's better than what we were suing for. What's your advice, John?" "Take the money and RUN!" he laughed. "Good. It's settled," Dave sighed. "I'm so glad this is over. I can get a life again." "A much different life, Dave," John pronounced. "This is life altering. Invest wisely and you'll still be rich when you're retirement age." "WE'LL be rich," Dave corrected. "Mike was party to this suit, too. Make sure they divide it up, so all the taxes don't land on me, alone." I was speechless. I'd never thought of quitting my job, but with this kind of money, why work! It had never entered my head that WE would win the suit with a big settlement. I'd always thought of it as Dave's suit and his career that they'd trashed. I was dumbstruck! "He's right, ya know," John said softly, clasping my shoulder. "You're part of this, too." "I never thought I'd see Mike at a loss for words," Dave laughed. "You should see the look on your face." "But this is your career that was trashed, not mine?" I protested weakly. "And if the accusation got out that you were a pedophile, how long do you suppose you'd keep that job?" John asked. "Yeah, well," I stalled, "I sure don't have the income potential that Dave had there before this all started." "Split down the middle, Mike," Dave said firmly. "Take it and like it." I could only smile. What a catch: a wonderful, caring, hot man, big dick, tight ass, and generous to a fault willing to give me ten MILLION dollars. WOW! "Something you need to think about, both of you," John began, "what will you do to occupy your time for the rest of your working lives? Being the idle rich isn't that entertaining." We stared at each other. There'd been no time to think of how our lives would change, if we won. We were faced with that reality, now. "Uh, this will take some getting used to," Dave slowly supposed. "Perhaps, some volunteer work?" "My wife does that and loves it, but I think it's the social interaction with the rest of the women that she likes most," John smiled. "But, it may not be for you," he cautioned. "However, there are all kinds of volunteering you could do that don't include charity balls and auctions." "You could run for office," I suggested. "No, that's not gonna happen," Dave obstinately affirmed. "I'm too honest. I tell it like it is, and that doesn't get you elected. You have to strategically lie to people. My face would give me away." "What about you, Mike?" John asked. "I have no idea," I responded shaking my head. "This is too sudden to think about clearly." "You don't have to decide immediately, but you'll have to think of something," John smiled. "I'd suggest that you treat yourselves to a cruise or a far away vacation for a few weeks, just to get your heads screwed on right and get some time away from it all." "We'd been talking about taking a honeymoon one of these days," Dave beamed. "This would be a good time to do that." I nodded agreement. "So, John," I asked, "do you just waltz in there and tell them that we agree to $20,000,000?" "Oh, no," he laughed. "These things have to be negotiated. They have to feel like they won. I'll hold firm for our numbers; then, agree to the lower amount when they suggest the entire $20,000,000 now, instead of spread out." "Go get 'em, John!" Dave laughed, giving him a high five. At least, John wasn't such a geezer that he didn't know what a high five was. "When's the conference?" I asked. "Tomorrow morning at ten," John answered. "I doubt if it'll last beyond noon. They want this nightmare over with as quickly as possible." We wished him luck as he left the house. "Call if you need anything," Dave called after him. John waved an acknowledgement. "Can you fucking believe this?" I jumped into Dave's arms, kissing him. "I'm numb," Dave laughed hugging me. "What should we do?" "We gotta celebrate!" I insisted. "Crack open that special bottle of champagne you got from your office at Christmas. What a great irony!" I laughed. It was the 1993 vintage of Tattinger's, a good year I'd been told. "Oh, you gotta call your uncle and tell him the news. I'll open the bubbly!" Dave volunteered. I dialed Uncle Clay and broke the news. He was overjoyed for us. "But, it's not over until the fat lady sings," he cautioned. "When you see the green of their money, then you have a settlement." Linc congratulated us, too. "However," he pointed out, "I'd advise you not to tell anyone else. These defamation/damage suits often have a 'keep-your-mouth-shut-and-so-will-we' clause. Wait until you see the final version before you crow too much about this." It was good advice. We'd have to ask John Wells if he thought it would be in there. Upon reflection, it probably would be to protect the partnerships' reputation. "I agree," Dave said from the phone in the sunroom. "I was so caught up in winning that I didn't think of how this would ultimately play out. Mums the word!" "So, what are you doing to celebrate?" Clay interjected. "Dave just opened a bottle of Tattinger's '93," I giggled, taking my second swallow of the bubbly nectar. "Oh, nice!" Linc praised. "Where'd you get it?" "You'll love the irony, Linc," Dave laughed. "I got it as a Christmas gift from the firm." Clay and Linc laughed as we celebrated at the expense of Dave's former employer. "You should do something very nice for Myrna and Leon," Uncle Clay suggested. "They gave you incredibly good insider information." "I know we should, but I haven't thought about it enough to figure out what to do," I sighed. "I was thinking of a contribution to their IRA accounts, if I could figure out the tax angle." "Talk to a tax accountant," Linc suggested. "On second thought, let me call mine and ask him. He's a whiz at this sorta stuff." "Thanks, Linc," Dave put in. "We both are better off because of it, so it has to be something from both of us." "Now, don't forget John Wells," Uncle Clay admonished us. "Oh, he's impossible," I snorted. "He won't take a nickel. He says he's having too much fun." "Well, suggest that you make a contribution to one of his favorite charities, a BIG contribution, Mike," Clay insisted. "You, too, Dave." "Most cases like this, the attorney gets a third," Dave said. "Fuck! That's a lot," I blurted out. "Those connections of his are probably worth it," Uncle Clay reminded us. "However, you can find something that he'll say yes to. Just give it some thought." "We don't want to insult him by badgering him about this," Dave added defensively. "He really does wanna hammer Mason's ass into the ground and that will give him enormous satisfaction. When people get as rich as John Wells, money doesn't mean anything anymore. Power and the ability to make things happen are what make their day." "You have him pegged," Uncle Clay admitted. "Well, think of something that isn't paying him. But, you gotta be subtle about it. This guy doesn't want or need the money." "Okay, we'll give it some thought," I agreed. "But, you can help us out if you think of anything, too. You know him better than we do." "Fair enough," Clay said amiably. "I'll talk to a couple of his closer friends and see if they have any ideas (without giving away our little secret, of course). "After you get the money, call us back. We'd love to fly up for a real celebration or have you down here," Linc suggested. "In the meantime, you need to think about what you'll do with all that free time and big bank account. Part of your new life now is to make the lives of others more comfortable, too. Charity may begin at home, but it also belongs in your community." "John said the same thing," Dave revealed. "We haven't really had time to think about it, though." "You have lots of time," Clay allowed. "Take it, and make some good choices. This money has to last you the rest of your lives. I know you'll be prudent with it, but also be generous." "Yes, Sir," I laughed. "Such a daddy you've become." "Occupational hazard with all these young studs running around the casinos," Clay laughed along with me. "They always come to me for advice. I'm so used to dishing it out, I can't stop myself." "Don't I know it," Linc butted in. "Always making 'helpful' suggestions to me. Most of the time, they make good sense. So, I smile and say, 'Yes, Dear,' then do what I wanted to do in the first place." "The man's untrainable," Clay laughed. "Why do I keep him?" "Because he has a tight ass and a big dick?" I answered, as deadpan as I could, then, burst out laughing. "Yeah, just a pretty face, a hot ass, and a big dick. He's just a thing to me," Clay chortled. "Same to you, Poon," Linc rebutted, laughing. "I guess I'll keep him, though," Clay sighed. "Can't get anything on a used model these days, and those new ones are so hard to break in and SO expensive." "You're stuck with me. Live with it," Linc insisted. "Okay!" Clay agreed readily, laughing. "Same thing here," Dave admitted. "I think I'll keep him, though. Besides, he's a rich man now, and I've always wanted a sugar daddy." "Same to you, Sweetcheeks," I tossed back at him. "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you," Linc broke in. "Gene stopped by earlier this evening and we chatted about his remodeling project. His idea of using the college is great!" "Well, it wasn't his idea, but that of my physician," I corrected Linc. "He's the one who has the connections at the college. But, Gene did call and they have an appointment set up for this coming weekend to talk about the details. And thanks for helping the boys, by the way. That was very kind of you, Linc." "No problem," Linc assured me. "He's family and delicious eye candy." "There's an amen from this corner," Clay laughed. "This one, too," Dave agreed. "But, you should get an eyeful of his new boyfriend. They are both giants in MANY ways, and SO handsome." I didn't know that Dave thought Kurt was as gorgeous as I thought he was, too. I liked the idea that we agreed on our choices of men. "They met only a week ago and already they want to set up housekeeping together." "Tell us more about his boyfriend," Linc insisted. Dave divulged all the pertinent data, including my tryst when Kurt was 13. When I describe his general build and look at that age, they understood completely. The outward cues were certainly there. However, he was 18 now, attending college, and hung like a horse, much to Gene's continuous pleasure. Clay and Linc remembered Kurt and Gene well. Hunks that size can't be ignored. "I noticed when Gene was here that he has more than a handful in his pants, too," Linc noted. "They're both versatile as we can attest," Dave laughed. "DAMN, can we attest!" "Telling tales out of school, again," I laughed. "Clay and Linc are happily married men who don't mess around, so the last thing they want to hear about is our scandalous conduct." "Oh, we love it!" Linc blatantly admitted. "It gives our dreary lives sparkle." "So," Uncle Clay said with a hint of 'look out' in his voice, "Mason was right about you Mike. You were a pedophile!" "Not my fault!" I defended. "Oh? Who seduced whom?" Clay shot back, laughing. "Picky, picky," I laughed with him. We ended the conversation as we drained the last drops from the bottle into our crystal champagne flutes, also given to Dave by his former employer. After finishing the champagne, we went for a walk through the neighborhood. The evening was warm enough to allow us to wear sweaters instead of jackets. However, one large umbrella was still necessary. The bonus was that one umbrella made us stay close together. An hour later, we returned. The fire had nearly died, so Dave added more wood to it, and we cuddled in close to warm up. Our sweaters came off in another five minutes, then the rest of our clothes. His beautiful, tight ass caressed my fat dick as I slowly stroked deeply into him, relishing our lovemaking and his delicious, sensuous, full lips. When I came, he joined me, jetting his creamy load down my throat as I refilled his supply, squirting mine up his hungry hole. Tuesday dawned clear and warm. It would probably be raining by the afternoon with temperatures as warm as they were, but we didn't mind. Dave walked around the outside of the house tagging plants, trees, and shrubs that Joe had decided must come out. While he did his plant thing, I checked e-mail. Joe had responded that he was coming up this weekend and was staying with Ray's brother, Robert. He couldn't stay in the dorm with Ray, and he didn't want to wear out his welcome with us. When Ray had suggested the alternative, he'd pounced on it. All of this had been decided as a result of my e-mail of yesterday afternoon. Joe also wanted to take a look at the lot behind us to see what kind of help it needed, too. I'd have to be sure to let Gene and Kurt know of Joe's landscaping expertise when I heard from them again. Gene still hadn't answered his phone in Las Vegas, so I assumed it was already disconnected. Kurt was in class each time I called, but he didn't have a recorder, so I wasn't able to leave a message. I was dying to know how the offer went last night with the owners of the house behind us. I could have called Scott, but that was prying (which I thought was inappropriate). By the time Dave had finished, I decided we should hit the gym. As the negotiations wouldn't be finished until at least noon, there was no point in sitting around the house, waiting. Tuesday was "legs day", again. We worked at a leisurely pace, taking time to chat with several people we knew, even though we saw them infrequently due to the time of day and our differing schedules. Because Dave couldn't stand the suspense, he'd taken his cell phone to the gym with him. At 11:35, while we were crunching our abs, John Wells called. "I got you on your cell phone, so I assume you aren't home," John began. "We're at the gym," Dave said excitedly. "What's the verdict?" he asked, afraid of the answer. "You aren't gonna believe this," John laughed. "I want to see your eyes and faces when I tell you. When will you be home?" "Good or bad news," Dave groaned. "VERY good news," John replied. "YES!" Dave shouted. Several heads turned, wondering what had happened to this usually staid attorney. "So, how soon will you be home?" John pressed. "Uh, we need to shower first," Dave stalled. "Say, uh, 15 minutes?" He looked to me for confirmation. I nodded agreement. "Okay," John agreed. "It'll take me 20 minutes to get there anyway. My car is parked several blocks away. Parking was a bitch this morning." "See ya in 20 minutes!" Dave grinned, then, broke the connection. "Well?" I smiled back at his infectious grin. "John said it was VERY good news and he wanted to see our reactions when he told us," Dave revealed. "Let's get our butts in the shower and get outta here, then!" We showered and dressed in record time. As it was not yet noon, there was no one in the showers to play with, anyway. "It may be too early in the day, but we gotta have some more bubbly to celebrate," Dave grinned. "Let's swing by the store and get their best bottle of champagne!" I readily agreed. If it were really news this good, money wasn't going to be a problem. We raced into the grocery store, which we knew had an excellent selection of wines and champagnes. The wine steward was standing at his desk, looking over a shipping invoice. As we'd talked to him several times, he knew us by sight. "Mike! Dave! Always great to see ya, again. You have grins big enough to light up the store. And you need something special to celebrate. Right?" He could read us easily. "Yeah!" I agreed. "Whatcha got in a really nice, EXPENSIVE bottle of bubbly?" Dave asked, nodding his head vigorously. "VERY special occasion, then," the steward grinned. "Well, I'm going to recommend the Krug, 1986, Clos du Mesnil Blanc de Blancs. On sale today for $259.99, marked down from $329.99." "We'll take half a case!" Dave grinned. "FUCK!" the steward said, almost at a shout. "Oh, sorry. My mouth got away from me. Six bottles?" Dave nodded again. "I'll have to check my inventory to see if I have that much." He clicked away at a few keys. "I only have five. Sorry." "We'll take 'em." "Uh, how about a nice bottle of California bubbly to go with the French champagne to make it a half case, so I can give you an additional 10% discount?" he asked. "What do you recommend?" Dave grinned. "How about that one?" I broke in, pointing to a huge bottle of domestic champagne. "Ah, yes," the steward grinned. "The Salmanazar of Domaine Chandon NV Brut Classic from the Napa Valley. Nine liters of some of the nicest domestic bubbly we have. Either you plan on a lot of people or a VERY big celebration lasting several days. That one goes for $379.99 today, regularly for about $420. With the additional 10% off for quantity, your total today comes to," he paused, his fingers flying over his calculator, "$1511.95. I'll write it up." He quickly scribbled out a wine sale form and handed it to us. "Just give this to any of the cashiers and they'll be more than happy to take your money," he laughed. He pulled four bottles of the French champagne from the shelves and one from the cooler. Dave helped him with the Salmanazar of domestic bubbly, wrestling it into a shopping cart. We hit the Express Line with our half case carrier with five bottles in it, plus the enormous nine liter bottle of Domaine Chandon. The cashier smiled at us. "This is gonna be some party!" She took the wine sales invoice and scanned it into the laser reader. "That's $1511.95. I'm assuming a credit card purchase," she giggled. Dave pulled out his card and handed it to her. She slid it through the reader and handed it back to him. The purchase sailed through. She handed us our receipt and told us to have a really good time. "Thanks! We will!" I assured her. When we got to the car, I asked Dave, "How are we going to drink all this champagne?" "We have lots of friends," Dave laughed. "Well, one of them had better be John," I said pointing to my watch. "Call him! We're late!" Dave quickly dialed John's cell phone after fumbling through his wallet for the number. "I gotta get me a Palm Pilot or something like it." "Hi, John," Dave greeted our successful attorney. "We stopped to get some bubbly to celebrate. We'll be right there, not more than five more minutes." He paused to listen. "Okay, see ya in a flash." He hung up as I raced from the parking lot to a stop sign. "He's just turned on to our street and will be waiting for us." I goosed the accelerator and turned on to the busy arterial. In three minutes, we were at the house, pulling into the driveway. Dave extracted the nine liter champagne bottle from the trunk of my car, while I grabbed the carrier with the other five bottles. "Time to celebrate!" Dave shouted, almost staggering under the weight of the heavy bottle. "Damn! Where'd you find a bottle that big?" John gasped. "Kroger's! The wine steward was sure happy to see us," Dave laughed, walking up the steps to the front porch. "I'll bet he was," John agreed. "That's not rotgut that Mike's carrying, either." He laughed. "But, you can certainly afford it now. You are NOT gonna believe what those turkeys did! Any of that stuff chilled?" he asked me, changing the subject, again. "Yeah, one of them," I said. I fished out the keys to the house while Dave rested the Salmanazar of champagne on the porch banister. I motioned John through the door first, then, Dave. I took the five bottles to the fridge while Dave carefully placed the huge bottle of champagne on the kitchen counter. "Shit! That thing's heavy!" Dave muttered good-naturedly. "Ah, here's the cold one," I indicated, pulling out one of the bottles. "I'm gonna put another one in the freezer to get it chilled faster. "I'm sure we'll have a few people over later to help us celebrate. In the meanwhile, the rest of these go in the wine fridge." "How are we gonna chill this monster?" Dave asked. "It's too damned big for the refrigerator, unless we take a lot of food out, plus some shelving," I suggested. "But, I'll bet we could talk the wine steward into chilling it for us in one of his refrigerator cases when we decide to crack it open." "Especially, if we invite him," Dave laughed. "He's 'a friend of Dorothy', ya know." "DUH!" I laughed with him. "'Friend of Dorothy'?" John asked. "Shorthand for gay," I explained. "Oh." "Dorothy from 'The Wizard of Oz'," Dave added. "Judy Garland has been an icon of gay men for years. There's much more to the story than that, but you get the drift." "Yeah," John laughed. "It makes more sense, now." "So, make yourself comfy, John," I directed. "Dave, get out some nice champagne flutes, and I'll open up this Krug bubbly." "That's good stuff, Mike," John whispered reverently. "Be good to it. Open it gently." I looked at him. He was in awe of the champagne. "You look like you know this vintage," I surmised. "Oh, yes. A little on the high end, but SO good," he answered. "Then, you should open it," I said, handing him the bottle and a towel. Dave brought in the crystal, setting them on the counter next to me. John rose and took the bottle gently in his hands. He closed his eyes, as if he were saying a prayer of thanksgiving, and smiled. "Come to Daddy," he whispered to the bottle, smiling. He eased the cork out of the neck of the bottle gently. The satisfying pop of the cork exiting brought a smile to our faces. John poured the golden nectar slowly down the inside of the glasses. When filled, he proposed a toast. "To the joys of being filthy rich!" "Yeah!" we agreed, clinking our glasses together, and taking a sip. "DAMN!" Dave exclaimed. "Nice!" "Give it a little longer," John urged. "You'll get more of the essences of the grape and champagne barrels before it went into the bottles for final fermentation. So subtle and so smooth." "Very nice!" I agreed. I could taste some of the subtleties that John was talking about, but my taster isn't as polished as his. Besides, I prefer the subtleties of hot cum! I stuck the bottle back in the refrigerator to keep it chilled, and pushed John and Dave into the sunroom. "Okay. Tell us everything, John!" "Okay. All ten partners were there, plus Myrna. She's a jewel and a great lady. They'd better treat her well or she'll walk," John began. We nodded knowingly. "So, there they all sit, smug as they can be. I started the negotiations by reciting their failings and outrageous conduct, going over the entire list as we discussed yesterday, consulting my notes to be sure I didn't leave out a thing. I loved quoting verbatim from the tapes. That really got them fidgety. I was sure to put in that the atmosphere in the office has been poisoned as well. If they don't do something fast, several people are gonna walk. Word about Mason's kinda shenanigans gets around an office like this no matter how confidential you think your conversations are. It was like that was a whole, new concept to them. These bright, high-priced lawyers can be dumb as houseplants some days," he observed, grinning. "Then, I hit them with the bottom line." "How'd you say it?" Dave wondered. "I don't remember exactly, but it was sorta like this: 'I'm willing to drop the demand for $300,000,000 in punitive damages, because we're settling out of court. I think you've learned a lesson. However, the actual value of damages to my clients' reputations and future employment is still $30,000,000. The settlement is to be paid to both men in equal amounts,' I stated as though there were no room for discussion. 'No announcement of any kind will be made by either side about the settlement or the cause for the settlement. If there is any additional bad-mouthing of either man by any partner, present or past,' I noted, specifically staring at Lester Mason, 'I'll file suit immediately for the $300,000,000 in punitive damages. And you will lose not only the money, but your firm will go down the drain. Have I made myself clear?' They nodded eager agreement. Lester Mason only glared. 'I didn't hear agreement from you, Les.' "'You'll see my signature on the final agreement,' he snarled. 'That'll have to do.' "'I'm satisfied with that,' I smiled at him. 'Thank you,' I added flatly, but with little emotion. "So, gentlemen, what's your offer?" "'$10,000,000 now and $15,000,000 in 6 months,' Mr. Hargraves proposed. 'We have to sell some real estate and stock holdings and don't wish to sell them at fire sale prices. I'm sure you understand.'" "Shit!" Dave exploded. "Twenty-five MILLION!" "It gets better," John smiled. "Really?" I asked incredulously "Oh, yeah," John grinned. "I said, 'Take out a loan on the value of the properties and stocks to satisfy the settlement,' and gave them a smile that could melt an iceberg. Then, I added, 'We'll give you 30 days to make that happen. Your credit's still good, so don't bullshit me about how long it'll take.' "'Then, we propose $20,000,000 now, take it or leave it,' Hargraves said smugly, folding his arms over his chest in an act of defiance." "The bastard!" Dave snorted. "I knew he was a shrewd negotiator." "Not to worry," John continued. "I spat back at them, 'The offer is $25,000,000. Don't be back-pedaling on me, Hargraves. We'll take nothing less than that amount, or you'll see us in court. Remember, gentlemen, these young men have nothing to lose. You, on the other hand, have EVERYTHING to lose, if this goes to litigation.' The partners looked around at each other. A few shrugged, but no one objected. It was probably what they were going to do, anyway. None of them wanted to dispose of income producing property or highly appreciated stocks to fund the settlement. I didn't care how they found the money. They were on the hook for $25,000,000 and they would pay up, sooner instead of later. "Hargraves said, 'Hearing no objections...?' He knew he'd been beaten, but leaving the door open for one or more of the partners to object. 'We'll draw up the agreement papers for all parties to sign this afternoon,' Hargraves said. 'I'll circulate it around the office to get all signatures. Tomorrow, Mr. Carey and Mr. Claiborne can sign. Will that be satisfactory, Mr. Wells?' "Fuck, YEAH!" Dave broke in. John smiled. "I told them, 'Two checks drawn in their individual names upon signing for $5,000,000 each. I expect to see all provisions discussed and agreed upon today to be in the final agreement. And not a check drawn on the firm's accounts. I want a Cashier's Check or Bank Draft in the correct amount drawn on the bank. Fifteen million in 30 days from tomorrow?' They blanched, but nodded. Hargraves said, 'Myrna has the tape of this conference to refer to, if needed.'" "'I'm sorry that it had to come to this gentlemen,' I told them getting ready to leave. 'I trust this is the last we'll hear or see of each other until tomorrow for signatures, and the final fifteen million is paid in 30 days.' I shook Hargraves' hand and departed, ignoring the other partners, except for a scowl at Lester Mason." "I'll bet he was puckered up like an old persimmon," Dave laughed. "Oh, yeah. Mad as a water-soaked cat. Then, old man Mason snarls, 'Pompous ass!' as I was leaving. I didn't care if Lester Mason called me the Princess of Provincetown. So, I said, 'Just come up with the money, you old fossil,' as the door slammed behind me." John sat back on the sofa and smiled. His retelling of the negotiations was finished. "Twenty-five million dollars," I whispered. "Un-fucking-believable!" "No shit!" Dave said in an echoing whisper. "But, John," I protested. "That's more than Myrna said they'd go for. What happened to get them to come up with more?" "My brilliant negotiating skills?" he laughed. "No, I think it was because they knew I wasn't going to go for the six month pay-off, even after they offered it. They thought I'd be grateful for the twenty mill now. They knew they had a losing case. But, I don't think they thought far enough ahead. However, I knew they could get a loan on those properties and stocks if they had to, and probably were going to do it, anyway." "But, we were willing to have them pay it off over several years with a bond to insure their compliance, of course," Dave reminded John. "Yeah, but they didn't know that. And they probably discussed it yesterday, too, but decided there was no reason for you to agree to that as it was so far into the future," he ruminated. "This is good champagne and all this talk is making me thirsty," he smiled, lifting his glass. "Such poor hostess manners I have," I apologized, pulling the refrigerator door open and grabbing the half empty bottle. "You have other things on your mind, Mike. Say twenty-five million other things?" he laughed, holding his glass steady for me. I poured the tawny liquid down the inside of the glass, slowly, as I'd seen him do it. "Uh, about the signing," Dave began. "I really don't wanna go back in there again. Can we sign it somewhere else in the building, and have Myrna do her Notary thing attesting to our signatures?" "I'm sure that can be arranged," John smiled, tipping the glass up to his lips and sipping. "I don't think they'd be comfortable seeing you two, either." "This is so hard to get my arms around," I sighed. "Someone pinch me!" "I'll do better than that," Dave smiled evilly. So, a fat settlement! Now, what will they do with their lives? What about paying John Wells for his services, and something tangible for Myrna and Leon? There is still more happening with Joe and Ray, and Gene and Kurt. Plus, what about the twins? Comments to gymhunk@msn.com