Dayla and Will

"Thank goodness that's over, the guy's ego is so big, his head barely fits on his shoulders. He couldn't wait to tell me about all his other women when I told him we were through. It's definitely going to affect my future at the bank, I can see I'll need to start looking elsewhere if I'm going to have a career."

The fears Dayla expressed that day soon became more apparent. Dayla was passed over when the next managerial opening was filled. The man who received the promotion was marginally qualified, but didn't have Dayla's education or qualifications.

As bumpy as her work-life was becoming, Dayla's love-life was the polar opposite. They may have had a few minor disagreements, but these were all trivial compared to the similarities in Will and Dayla's values, hopes and dreams. They slowly became best friends of each other; friends and family said they were soul-mates and neither one of them could disagree.

One real test of their friendship came in the spring. Dayla talked Will into joining her co-ed softball team. Last fall Dayla watched Will quarterback his flag football team, he could throw a football fifty-plus yards on a rope. Then in the winter she watched as he drained three pointers in a YMCA basketball league. How could a guy who is so proficient playing football and basketball be such a klutz at baseball? The team ended up putting Will in right field and had him bat ninth while Dayla pitched and batted clean up. Dayla was amazed when she saw how Will sucked it up and accepted his role with grace.

Will was not completely without an ego. The night he struck out three times he took Dayla to his apartment and made damn certain she got fucked so hard that she could barely walk the next day. Sometimes a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. During the next game Dayla secretly crossed her fingers whenever Will got up to bat, wishing for more strikeouts.

On the first anniversary of the night they met, Will proposed and Dayla accepted. The wedding was planned for December, in just six months. The proposal wasn't a big surprise, but Will's next announcement was.

"I've been offered a promotion; it requires I transfer to the Milwaukee office. It's not a big promotion, but it's a step up. I told them I'd talk to you first, I'll only accept if you agree."

Dayla was thrilled at the news. "Take the promotion. It's time for me to get off my butt and find another job. I'll contact a headhunter up in Milwaukee and get started on a job search. Hopefully I'll have something before the wedding."

She did find a job in Milwaukee working for a local start up, First Business Bank. It was a lateral move that paid comparable to what she was making in Chicago, which was fine because the cost of living was a bit less in Wisconsin. Dayla moved into Will's condo immediately since the wedding was only three months away. The wedding was fantastic. Will couldn't help but bust into a giant grin when he saw his fiancé walking up the aisle in her white gown. She looked like something out of Bride's magazine, only she was real and she was going to be his wife in ten minutes. As Mr. Prichert placed Dayla's hand in Will's, he looked into Will's eyes and said, "Take good care of my little girl." Will answered with all sincerity, "I intend to."

Three years later Dayla was the assistant manager and pregnant with their first child. Dayla took a three month leave of absence when Billy (William Jr.) was born. The bank owners, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, were great people to work for; Dayla's staff got the work done and kept the customers happy while the Johnson's did their best to create a family friendly work environment.

Right after Billy's birth, Will and Dayla sold the condo and bought a house. Life was good -- soon it wasn't.

Dayla couldn't believe her ears. Mr. Johnson called a meeting of the staff and announced the bank had been sold to a large national bank headquartered in North Carolina. It was 2009 and the economy was going in the shitter, small banks across the country were closing their doors or being gobbled up by bigger banks. It was no surprise First Business Bank was being sold, the bigger surprise was the man standing at the front of the room being introduced as the new executive vice president in charge of all retail banking in Wisconsin for the acquiring bank -- George Tinker.

Will arrived home that night and immediately knew something was on his wife's mind. He washed up and kissed their six-month-old son before sitting down to dinner. He waited; she couldn't be pregnant because Dayla had a glass of wine in front of her and Dayla never touched alcohol when she was pregnant. They ate in silence for no more than three or four minutes before Dayla spoke those words, "We have to talk."

Could good news ever follow those four words when spoken by one's loving wife?

Dayla went on to give Will the news regarding her new boss. Although Dayla and George wouldn't be working in the same building, the reporting structure was such that they would probably spend hours together in meetings, either with other branch managers and assistant managers present or worse yet, one-on-one regarding her performance or the performance of her staff and branch.

Despite the nature of the topic, the conversation didn't get heated. Both Dayla and Will remained calm and talked through their options; which after a lengthy discussion they realized were very limited. They had just bought their home, stretching their budget in order to buy a house in a neighborhood with good schools and large enough for two more children. The house lost value within the first year of their purchase, like so many homes at that time. They bought near the top of the housing bubble and were now upside-down on their mortgage. They were luckier than most, the house only lost twenty-five percent of its value, but even after their twenty percent down payment, they still owed more than what the house could presently sell for.

So, moving wasn't an option. Will brought up the next option; what about a new job for Dayla? Probably not realistic given the current financial crisis and the number of bank failures. Too many bankers out of work looking for new positions, the likelihood of Dayla getting any open position was minimal, especially at her current salary.

They were stuck. Will went to bed that night and held his wife as close as he could while waiting for her to fall asleep, but that would take some time. Will couldn't help but feel he failed his family. They were in no position to survive on his salary alone; for the immediate future his wife would have to work for a former lover. Will wondered if he was man enough, and more important, if he was confident enough, to not let this fact affect him and his marriage.

For the first three months it seemed all their fears were unfounded. George's interactions with Dayla were professional, he made no mention of their previous relationship or how it ended. But all good things come to an end. George invited Dayla to have lunch with him one day, which wasn't unusual, just a normal business lunch between an employee and a manager. At least it started out that way; over dessert and coffee George changed the subject.

"You know, I never got over how you dumped me, especially for some poor dago."

Dayla was surprised by George's comment, it came out of the blue and it was like a shot between her eyes.

"George, what are you talking about? Number one, I don't appreciate you calling my husband a dago or any other nasty word. Number two, you said yourself you were screwing other women the entire time we were dating. Given your lack of commitment, our relationship lasted longer than it should have."

George kept his voice low, "Listen you little bitch. Get used to the fact you're going to be in my bed with your legs spread asking me to fuck you. If not, the photos I have of you naked and getting fucked are going to be seen by your schmuck husband and many more. And, if you don't put some special effort into our screwing, your future performance appraisals will suffer."

Dayla couldn't believe her ears, the room began to spin and she was having trouble catching her breath; this was the first she heard about photos. Before George finished his demands Dayla was up and heading to the bathroom where she lost her lunch. Tears were running down her cheeks, she moved to the sink to wash her face and rinse her mouth. By the time she returned to the table, George was gone. Her cell phone started to ring and without looking at the number she answered it.

"I thought you would be more excited by the prospect of us getting re-acquainted. No matter; you have until the end of the week to make up your mind -- and you better make the right decision."

Dayla didn't go back to the branch that afternoon. She went home and spent the next few hours sitting in the living room trying to understand how her world, like their mortgage, had turned upside-down so quickly and what she could do to get it back right-side up. She usually collected their son Billy from daycare on her way home, but today she called Will at work and asked him if he could pick him up, claiming a need to rest.

Dayla still hadn't made any decisions when Will and Billy came home. It was a long evening, but right after Will put their son to bed he joined Dayla at the kitchen table. Will listened while Dayla told him of George's demands and threats. Will didn't interrupt, but Dayla knew he was seething, she watched his fists clench tighter and the saw the pained expression on his face. What she couldn't see were Will's thoughts as he listened. Will was thinking of murder; his only reluctance was the knowledge that murdering George Tinker would destroy his family and he would never watch his son grow up.

When she finished, Will spoke for the first time. "I'm going to go across the street and talk with Ron Wallis. Try to stay calm until I get back. Ron may have some idea how we can deal with this without my going to prison."

Sometimes men can be just plain dense. The last sentence had the opposite effect on Dayla; the thought of prison wasn't even a consideration until the words came out of Will's mouth. As he walked out the front door, Dayla began to cry for the tenth time that day.

Ron Wallis was a detective in the county sheriff's office. Ron and Will had been friendly since the Conti's moved into the neighborhood. Ron and his wife Sally were the first to greet and welcome them nearly a year ago. Their daughter was Billy's babysitter.

Will knocked on the door and Sally Wallis greeted him with a hug. Will apologized for dropping in like this and asked if Ron was home just as Ron walked into the room and asked if Will wanted a beer. Will declined and got right to it. Before he finished the story, Sally said, "That poor dear!", ran out the door and down the street in the direction of the Conti's house.

After hearing Will out, Ron asked a few questions and said he thought how to best handle the situation, but he wanted to talk to Dayla first. The two men headed to Will's where they found Dayla and Sally talking in the living room. Sally had calmed Dayla down; promising her that Ron wouldn't let Will do anything stupid and would have some good ideas for helping Dayla deal with her boss.

The next morning Dayla went to work and did her best imitation of acting normal as Ron advised. Ron and Will headed to the district attorney's office, where Ron introduced Will to the DA. Donna Carson was a big woman, probably just over six foot and at least 200 pounds. She noticed Will looking and started to laugh.

"Not what you expected, Mr. Conti?"

Will was immediately embarrassed.

"Don't worry Mr. Conti. I'm used to people being surprised. Every damn TV cop show has some skinny lady DA. People expect Angie Harmon, all 115 pounds of her when they come in my office, instead they get Ms. Amazon."

Her manner put him at ease and Will gave her a huge smile as they shook hands.

"Now Ron, tell me what brings you to my office this morning."

Ron took out his notebook and relayed all the information he gathered from Dayla. He also told Ms. Carson why Dayla wasn't meeting with her this morning.

"Good thinking Ron. I'll meet Ms. Conti at their home this evening. Are you fairly certain she'll do what's necessary to get Mr. Tinker recorded?"

"She'll be scared, but I've seen you handle these cases before. I know you'll have her prepped. Plus, I've known Ms. Conti for a year now, my wife and I think she's a strong woman, she'll be OK."

Ron looked at Will. "As you can imagine, a number of the women who are victims of harassment back out before we can get a conviction, either at the time we try to have them wear a wire or at trial. Ms. Carson is one of the best at helping these women overcome their fears."

"Mr. Conti, I'll be at your home at seven, if that's all right with you and Ms. Conti. I'll go over our plan of action with you and your wife. Ron, can you be there? If Ms. Conti agrees, we'll have her try to get Mr. Tinker on tape. That will help with our prosecution and with any subsequent lawsuits she may pursue against Mr. Tinker and the bank. Do you have personal representation?"

"I admit we haven't even discussed it, I haven't thought past helping my wife get this jerk out of her life."

"Ron, give Mr. Conti the name of the meanest shark in the water, I think you know who I'm talking about." Donna Carson spoke these words to Ron while writing the initials 'TJ' on a legal pad on the desk. Will did his best to keep the smile off his face as Ms. Carson removed the page from the pad and placed it in the shredder behind her chair.

That same day Will and Dayla were able to get a late afternoon appointment with Thomas Johansson. Johansson was all business; he asked two questions while Dayla told him about the lunch conversation, then got right to it.

"I'm going to assume you're telling me the whole truth, if not, tell me now."

Dayla merely nodded in response.

"Good. Here's what I propose. We're going to sue both Tinker and the bank. The minute Tinker is arrested, and I have no doubt that's where the DA is heading, we're going to freeze Tinker's assets so he can't bleed them away. His legal costs are going to skyrocket and we want to prevent him spending it all."

Will was suddenly worried about where this was heading.

"Mr. Johansson. We don't have much in the way of disposable funds. You're talking about two lawsuits; that sounds like a lot of money. Especially if the bank fights this. What if we lose?"

"Three things. First, this will cost you nothing, if you agree to my fee of 40% of whatever you recover, but I cover all expenses in return for such a high percentage. If a judge or jury awards you two million, but you only receive one million, I get four-hundred thousand. Second, you have a slam dunk against Tinker, the only issue is how much you'll receive; for all we know he may have a negative net worth, although I doubt it. Third, I'm counting on Tinker being a serial harasser. These guys are rarely 'one-and-done'. There's usually more than one female subordinate these assholes have either hit on or carried on with. This is where my expenses will add up and I'll earn my fee. My people will find out who, what and when. Once we establish a pattern, the bank will be anxious to settle.

"Understand, we could go to a jury and probably get a huge monetary award, but that means at least a year in depositions, etc. before we go to trial and the possibility of appeals. Our best bet is to present our evidence of a pattern of harassment and settle with the bank out of court. It will be your decision when the time comes.

"I'll leave you two alone to talk it over." With that, Johansson left the room.

Will and Dayla looked at each other for a minute before Dayla spoke. "What do you think?"

Will replied, "I like him, I don't know why, but call it a gut feeling. That, plus he was recommended by the DA and I know you'll like her when you meet her this evening. If Johansson is willing to allow us to make the final decisions and he's paying the expenses, I say we sign with him. What do you think?"

"Let's get the paperwork and read it over. If it's all good, I agree."

Thomas Johansson smiled for the first time when Dayla told him what they discussed. Since they needed to get home to meet with Ms. Carson, Johansson promised to have the paperwork delivered via messenger to their home that evening.

Will was right, Dayla liked Donna Carson and felt comfortable as the DA laid out her plans. Carson was pleased the Conti's had already met with an attorney.

"Things are going to happen fast. If all goes according to plan, Mr. Tinker will be spending the weekend in jail. I don't know Tinker, but if at any time you feel threatened, don't hesitate to call me; this is my cell number. It takes courage to do what you'll be doing. I appreciate that because I want these predators off the streets and I need your help to do it."

With their plans in place, Donna Carson left the Conti home, just as the courier arrived to drop of the lawyer's paperwork. It took them another hour to read and sign the contract; Will would drop it off at Johansson's office the first thing in the morning.

It had been a long, stressful day. Dayla lay in bed snuggled in Will's arms with her head on his chest. Deep down, they wanted to make love, but didn't have the strength. Just before she fell asleep Dayla whispered, "I love you, Mr. Conti."

God, how he loved this woman. "I love you, too Mrs. Conti."

Dayla called and agreed to meet George Friday for lunch. Dayla normally dressed modestly at work; Donna Carson suggested she dress even more conservatively today. It wasn't unusual in these cases for the defense attorney to try and place the blame for the harassment on the victim. If the case went to trial, Ms. Carson would ask Dayla to wear the same outfit on the day she testifies.

For the first twenty minutes of lunch George was extremely pleasant, exhibiting all the charm that had attracted Dayla to him all those years ago. Dayla refused his offer of a cocktail or glass of wine, not wanting to let anything cloud her mind. Her discomfort was for a good reason, as it turned out.

Halfway through lunch George leaned forward and grabbed Dayla's purse and despite her protests, began to rummage through the purse's contents until his hand came out with the digital recorder hidden within. George turned the recorder off and leaned back with an evil grin.

"Dayla, you stupid cunt. Did you really think I was so stupid that I wouldn't check to see if I was being set up?"

Dayla sat still with her fork halfway to her mouth; she didn't say a thing.

"Now I'm going to tell you what's going to happen next. You've really pissed me off with this stunt and you're going to pay a much higher price for your stupidity. Here's my address." He handed her a slip of paper. "Make up an excuse to your shit of a husband and be there at six. Don't worry about trying to dress sexy; I'll have an outfit for you to wear when you arrive. Don't plan on getting home much before midnight, so your excuse to the future cuckold better be a good one."

Dayla tried not to overreact. When did this man turn into such an evil prick?

"What happens if I don't show up? I've told you how important my marriage is to me. Why would I jeopardize my family for you?"

"Because if you don't, I can guarantee you a world of hurt. I have videos of you fucking and sucking me off. These will end up on the Web and copies mailed to your family, your coworkers and especially to your precious Will. None of the videos are dated and anything to identify me in them has been digitally altered to save me embarrassment. It's so convenient how little you've changed in the last five years, no one will know the videos aren't recent. Do yourself a favor -- be at that address at six, because if you're not on your knees sucking my cock by six-thirty, the videos go public.