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by Mike Schwarcz, text and art

On the Friday before Memorial Day, Rachel Spires was broke and in a funk. Her lack of funds had left her with no plans for the holiday weekend. Fortunately, a diversion from her woes was only five minutes away; the beach and boardwalk. She was desperate to get out of the house she had inherited from her father. The dump was falling apart; her dad had never been a handyman. While the house was paid for, the bills to keep the place habitable kept pouring in. She recently had to replace the roof and the furnace in the same month. As an art advisor, her income was far from reliable. She described it as feast or famine, and it was her dire financial situation that put her in the sights of Hayden Rookwood.

It was James, the manager of SpACE's NYC gallery, who had brought the matter to Mary Goodman's attention. According to James, a client has come in to collect a sculpture purchased through an art consultant from Los Angeles. The client had a receipt from the consultant, Rachel Spires, for $400,000, marked "Paid in Full." The problem was that the SpACE Gallery ledgers showed half the balance still due. Mary Goodman immediately called Hayden Rookwood for guidance once she got wind of what had happened.

"Damn it," Hayden fumed, as he got out of his chair and began to pace the length of his office. To lose a $400,000 deal was out of the question. But even worse, if the client got any hint of trouble at SpACE —missing money or undelivered art —that could taint their reputation irreparably.
"How can that be possible?" Mary asked.
"Isn't it obvious, Mary?"
"What exactly?"
"Rachel Spires is floating the client's money, holding back the final half payment. Perhaps the client is undertaking a remodel, and Rachel believed the sculpture wouldn't be needed until the remodel was complete. But she miscalculated; the client showed up early," Hayden explained.
"Oh dear," was all Mary could say.
"Call the client and tell her we made an error, and everything is fine. We can deliver the piece at her convenience, no charge, of course." Hayden instructed.
"That's wise, I'll do it right now. Who is going to deal with this Rachel woman?" Mary asked.
"I'll take care of Rachel Spires. Aisha has her hands full; she's flying to Santa Fe on Tuesday. Text me all the info you have on Rachel Spires, I mean everything, copies of checks, credit app, the works," Hayden instructed.
"You'll have it by the end of the day," Mary hung up, relieved she didn't have to refuse the customer her sculpture, but she was still worried about Rachel's duplicity.

Hayden knew Rachel by reputation. She was in her early thirties, single, and exactly his type. He doubted she knew who he was. Now that he had her number, in more ways than one, he decided it was time to call her up and introduce himself. He dialed her number. It rang eight times before she picked up.
"Hi, this is Rachel. Who's this?" she answered.
"Didn't recognize my number?" Hayden asked.
"No, but I'm curious, I don't know many people on the East Coast," she said, noting Hayden's area code on the screen. "
"I'm calling from SpACE Gallery regarding the sculpture you sold to the Davidsons," he said and waited. Several seconds ticked by before Rachel composed herself enough to think of a reply.
"Of course, she should be picking it up in a couple of months. She has a 50% deposit on it. Is there a problem?" Her heart raced.

"Yes. The problem is, that the client came in to pick it up and showed us a receipt from you marked paid in full. But as you said yourself, we only have a 50% deposit. We need to sort this out. I'll be flying into Santa Monica tomorrow, you and I are going to sit down and work this out," Hayden said emphatically.
"Okay, where are you staying?" Rachel asked, biding for time.
"Shutter's, know it?" he asked.
"Can we meet for lunch tomorrow?" she suggested.
"I'll text you when I touch down," he said and hung up.

Rachel hung up, ready to panic. She was used to genteel old George and Mary. Who was this guy, she wondered, he didn't sound nice. She had no idea what he expected. She didn't have the two hundred thousand dollars she owed, and had no immediate prospects of getting it, unless she sold her house, which would leave her broke AND homeless, out of the question in Los Angeles.

The next day, his private jet delivered Hayden to Santa Monica. He texted Rachel en route to Shutters that he would be in Bungalow Six. She was deciding what to wear when she got his text. She took it as a bad omen. In her mind, including the Bungalow number meant only one thing, and it wasn't lunch. If that's what he wants, I'm not in a position to argue, she decided, selecting her sexiest underthings and a short, low-cut, summer dress, finishing with her highest heels. Did she believe she could screw her way out of a 200K debt? Maybe, maybe not. But either way, it was better than going to jail for fraud.

It was showtime. Rachel stood at the door of Bungalow Six. She took a deep breath before knocking. If he isn't a troll, I should be the one to make the first move. She decided. I'll have more control; I can set the pace rather than playing hard to get and having him chase me all over the bungalow.
She knocked on the door.
"Come in," Hayden yelled instead of getting up. Rachel opened the door to a spacious suite with a kitchenette. Hayden was enjoying a cigar and a whisky on the enclosed patio. Rachel went to him and held out her hand,
"I'm Rachel," she said.
"Hayden," was all he gave her in reply as he gestured for her to sit. "Drink?"
"Please, anything cool."
"Gin and Tonic?"
"Perfect, thank you." He got up and went to the small bar.

He looked at least 70, but he seemed fit for his age. He dressed nicely, and he got out of his chair without any problem. Thank God he wasn't fat or hairy, she was relieved. When he came back with her drink, he checked her legs and heels. Liking what he could see, he complimented her,
"You're very pretty."
"Thank you. So, Hayden, I want to apologize for the mix-up with the sculpture. It's entirely my fault," Rachel launched her first defense.
"You're right about that," Hayden said, openly staring at her ample pushed-up cleavage.
"The question is, what are we going to do to fix it?"
He waited for her to answer. Out of sheer nervousness, she adjusted her breasts in the too-tight bra.
"I have no idea, what do you suggest?" was all she could think to say.
"I have some ideas," he said. Offering her his hand.
"I'm listening," she said as she took his hand and moved behind him, putting her other hand on his chest and bending to caress the top of his head with her breasts.
"I'm not a bad guy, and I'm finding you irresistible. At my age, that's more valuable than money," he confessed his desire for her.
"How so?" she asked, softly in his ear. Rachel began to hope it might only take one roll in the hay and they could call it even.
"A mutually beneficial arrangement allowing you to work off your debt while entertaining me in my lap of luxury," he laughed. She was causing him to feel his oats, a rare occurrence at his age.
"Who are you anyway?" Rachel took a chance.
"Your new boss, that's who," He turned, pulled her into his lap, and kissed her.
Rachel played it for all it was worth. She worked him over, all hot breath, soft lips, and wandering hands. He became putty in her hands when she hiked her dress up and straddled his erection before it disappeared. For his part, he pulled her bodice down, exposing her barely restrained breasts in their red lace bra. Their deal was sealed.

Once home, Rachel crawled under her bedcovers with her cat for two days. She never got his whole name. At least he wasn't fat or hairy, she consoled herself. Making some sales to pay him back became her new, overriding obsession. In the meantime, she waited for him to call; that was their deal. She was officially on call. Later that day Hayden arranged for the missing funds to be wired into the SpACE Gallery account, and flew home. Rachel made him feel invincible. He already considered her his property. She owed him; therefore, he owned her. Perfectly logical to Hayden. Why shouldn't Rachel pay him interest on her debt?

To be continued

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