“Can I bring anything for Mrs. Stone?” he inquired, but his expression was worriedly questioning Brett's need for assistance.
Stover laughed loud and long before answering Andrew's question. “You needn't concern yourself about my wife. I don't!” Brett Stover said casually but he winked at Andrew in a gesture of shared secrets.
Andrew recognized that his guess had been correct. Brett Stover was planning something for Victoria and most obviously it was Brett Stover himself. What amazed Andrew more than anything else was that Brett Stover wasn't concerned at all by Margaret's possible reaction. In fact, Brett didn't seem to care if Margaret was around or not! He didn't say so, but Brett's look told Andrew that Margaret wasn't really involved closely with him in any way but by name.
Margaret moved away from the listening post, wondering what Brett had in mind for his son's wife. She couldn't believe that it would be anything good, yet she certainly didn't think it could be more than some type of information concerning their son. Naturally, Brett would use Victoria to get information on her husband's activities. But Margaret couldn't help wondering why Brett wanted Andrew to bring Victoria to their house. It would certainly be much simpler for Brett to talk to her directly and especially since their son would be leaving for Los Angeles. Margaret tried to reason out why Brett was involving Andrew in such a simple errand when Brett could merely drop in at their son's home without all this fuss. Then Margaret remembered that her husband didn't ever want to go to Brett's and Victoria's house unless Nora, the maid, was gone for the evening.
Unknown to Nora, Margaret was very much aware of Brett's past involvement with Nora McCarthy, but she had nothing but pity for her since she was only a servant. Margaret measured values in terms of relative comfort, and it was only her husband's money that kept her living with him as his wife. When she and Brett were first married, Margaret had expected her life with him to be somewhat commensurate with their social standing and she had been raised to believe that upper-class people maintained a high morality standard. Margaret's family had a name in the community, but thanks to her father's incompetence in handling the large inheritance from her grandfather, they had little money. In fact, the family would have been totally broke if her father hadn't quit trying to enlarge the inheritance with his bad investments. Before Margaret's parents died, they had spent the remainder of their money on keeping up an appearance of established wealth and it had been Brett's money that finally buried them in the style they had expected in life.
Brett had actually married Margaret Lee for the entree her family's name would provide in the business circles of the community around them. It was marrying respectably and he had used his opportunity well. Brett Stover was a lean and shrewd dealer before the age of twenty-two and he only required the association with respectability to put his talents to work in the direction he wanted to take. His holdings were worth over three million dollars by the time he was twenty five and from then on, he could only go up. His tactics were ruthless, but before anyone could realize this, he had gotten out of their reach. He had made it on his own underhanded merits and through the open doors that Margaret's name provided. Their marriage was a total failure from the beginning.
Margaret's notion of marriage had been based on a romantic ideal she had seen in the movies and Brett Stover had played the game well when he was courting her. Their sexual involvement before the wedding had amounted to nothing more than good-night kisses and occasional feel-ups of the accidental-on-purpose variety. Their first night together after the wedding had been a rude awakening for Margaret and Brett's treatment of her had been something more than gentle. He had fucked her delectable cunt with all the urgent passion that he had contained for the many months of their engagement and Margaret never quite got over it. It had been painful but more than that, it was humiliating for her and she resisted the natural passion in her body ever since then. Brett always treated her roughly, and after a time began to think of her merely as another possession. Her lack of response to his horrendous fucking frustrated Brett and after she became pregnant with their son, he never came near her again.
Margaret had been particularly cold in their fuck session that evening she told him she was expecting a baby, and that had been the last time Brett had ever fucked her. He kept her around because she was the mother of his son and that was the extent of it. When Brett hired Nora McCarthy, he had already hired and fired another two “live-ins” and Margaret had been surprised that the young, lovely Irish girl lasted as long as she had.
Their sexual arrangement actually pleased Margaret as long as the appearance of her marriage was maintained and Brett was too shrewd to have it any other way. In the privacy of her home, Margaret was happy that she didn't have to fuck her husband and she couldn't care less about his outside screw activities since they at least kept him far away from her sexually.
The high spot of her life had been the raising of her son, Brett, Junior, and she showered him with the additional attention that otherwise would have gone to her husband. This at times had brought accusations from her husband of her making their son into a mama's boy, but Stover was too involved with the management of Stover Enterprises to do much about it until Brett was much older. Then Brett sent him off to school, and later bought him the house in Northport. In fact, young Brett never knew that his father had arranged for his first encounter with the opposite sex by paying a girl to let the fifteen-year-old boy fuck her. Margaret never knew about this arrangement either and she couldn't prevent his father setting young Brett in a house of his own. After that, Margaret stuck around for the comfort of the life that Brett had provided as he had never let her have any money of her own. Margaret Stover didn't know any other way to live so she stayed with her husband, Brett, all the time nursing a deep hatred for him.
Still reflecting on the men's conversation, Margaret listened in on it further still at the listening post. Margaret decided that Brett wanted Victoria to come to their house so he wouldn't have to see Nora McCarthy. Once Brett had finished with Nora McCarthy as a fuck partner or anyone else for that matter, he generally made a point to avoid that person like the plague. But for Margaret, that still didn't explain what Brett had to do with Victoria mostly because she was married to her son, but she also thought of Victoria as a parasite and golddigger who only wanted the Stover fortune.
Margaret got up and paced the floor. Instinctively, she felt that there was a conspiracy afoot. A conspiracy that could easily throw Margaret and Brett, Junior into a very vulnerable position, like O-U-T. She'd see her son tomorrow so that they could counter-scheme.
CHAPTER THREE
Brett Stover, Junior stared out of the huge picture window in his office. God, he was knocked out. They'd have to cut down on those mate-swapping parties, he was all fucked out. In the beginning, they were held just once a week, then twice, now they were held four times a week and it was getting a bit much.
But, fuck it all, that goddamn blonde last night was really something! He felt his prick give a half-hearted lurch as he thought of the new club member.
“These are the only papers I can find, Mr. Stover.”
Young Brett's thoughts were interrupted by his lovely secretary's appearance into his office, and he took the papers she held out to him.
“Okay! I think I have everything now, everything I'll need. Did you get my reservation for the flight?” Brett asked Caroline Brent before she left his office.
“Yes, Mr. Stover. Your flight leaves at seven this evening. They're holding the ticket for you at the airport.”
“Fine. If there isn't anything else, I'm going home to pack. I didn't expect to have to work today or to make this fucking trip either.” Brett was forgetting that his secretary had to come in on the holiday as well.
“Well, there is another thing, Mr. Stover. We've had a want ad running for a barmaid at The Oaken Bucket, the bar on East Main Street, and the interviews are supposed to be held at two o'clock this afternoon. The manager won't be in until six to open up and we still haven't hired a new assistant manager. So no one will be there to handle the applicants.”
Brett remembered that he still hadn't replaced Ira Finchley at The Oaken Bucket, a posh bar that Stover Enterprises owned, and he had to laugh to himself as he was reminded of the incident with Ira's young wife, Betty. After the guys got through screwing her, she'd almost had a nervous breakdown. And, of course, Ira couldn't say a word. He'd been screwing Victoria at the time. “Why can't the manager handle the interviews?” Brett asked Miss
