First Position

by Prescott Lane

  Kathleen coldly stared down Alexis, feeling her blood pressure rise, knowing she had lost control of the room. During her marriage, Alexis considered Kathleen an ally, a strong-willed woman like her valuing financial stability. But now in the conference room, her mother-in-law projected a totally different vibe -- one of dominance against a helpless, weak prey. Kathleen’s presence had brought the negotiations to another level, cornering Alexis.

  “Just when we were being honest with each other,” she lashed out at Mason, “you have your fucking mother come rescue you.”

  “You watch your nasty, little mouth, cunt,” Kathleen replied, her words freezing everyone at the table, her boys looking at their mother, astounded.

  “Excuse me?” Alexis said. “You have no right to talk to me that way!”

  “Ms. Kathleen,” the lawyer said nervously, “I’d ask that you please watch your language towards my client.”

  Kathleen smiled at him. “I don’t usually talk that way. You can ask my boys or even Alexis. But I actually thought it was appropriate here. Your office is such a fucking shit hole. Can’t believe you work here. And next to a gas station? My GPS couldn’t even find it.”

  The lawyer fidgeted with his tie. He couldn’t control his own client, and now her mother-in-law appeared just as crazy. His small contingency fee seemed hardly worth the trouble.

  Kathleen turned her attention back to Alexis. “From what I hear, you have been running that mouth of yours for months, making demands and threatening my son.” She pulled out a large envelope from her purse and set it on the table. “Making all kinds of false claims about him and Emory.” She ran her fingers over the edges of the envelope. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alexis snapped back. “Before you barged in, Mason and I were finally getting to some truth, actually.”

  “Truth?” Kathleen laughed, fingering the envelope again, her eyes burning with an intense fire, as if possessed by some demonic force. “I’m all for the truth.” Mason and Steven looked at each other, stunned and impressed, with no idea what their mother was up to. She was a force of nature who couldn’t be controlled, but they’d never seen her quite like this.

  “Well, let me give you some truth, Kathleen,” Alexis said, leaning forward. “I know you think your little boy is perfect, but he’s not. He was a lousy husband and . . . .”

  “Oh, be quiet! I will not sit in this nasty ass office and listen to your lies about my son,” Kathleen interrupted, raising her voice. “I really will not. I know exactly who my son is.” She picked up the envelope. “I’m more interested in the truth about you.”

  “Kathleen, you are losing it. I think your age is catching up with you.”

  “I may be old,” Kathleen said, cocking her head back, “but that just means I’ve been a bitch longer than you have. And my age won’t stop me from exposing your dirty, little secrets.”

  Alexis shifted in her chair, ever so slightly, but still everyone noticed -- a turning point. And Mason could sense it, a change in momentum, something he’d felt so many times before on a football field. His mother inexplicably had taken control of the negotiations and now had the upper hand. Mother bear.

  “I’m still thinking about how to handle this,” Kathleen said, stroking the envelope. “I might show you here, or we may just lay it out in the lawsuit we’re filing in Charlotte. I haven’t yet decided which way. But I’ll be calling the shots from here on out.”

  The lawyer reached for the pen. “Maybe it’s time we sign,” he offered, feeling his fee slipping away, and placed the settlement agreement in front of his client. Alexis took the pen.

  “Oh no, dear. Not that one,” Kathleen said sweetly, then turned to Steven. “Where’s the original settlement offer with the prenup?” Steven reached into his briefcase and handed the original agreement to his mother.

  “What’s going on?” the lawyer asked.

  Kathleen slid the papers to Alexis. “My boy won’t be giving you one cent more than you agreed to in the prenup.”

  Alexis laughed nervously. “What makes you think I’m going to sign that?”

  “Because if you don’t, I will spend the rest of my life exposing every secret you have to anyone who will listen. I will devote my entire life to it.” Mother bear had come to protect and destroy.

  “No one is going to listen to you.”

  Kathleen leaned back in her chair and pulled out her phone, scrolling her fingers down the screen. “Let me just look over my client list here. Oh, what about that pretty, little anchor on the Channel 2 morning news show. I did her master bathroom. And then the police superintendent’s wife -- I placed the most lovely damask curtains in their dining room. Yes, and the Governor, too. He wanted the most terrible paisley sofa in his executive office. Had to talk him out of that. Took me three days.”

  Alexis swallowed hard, her lawyer whispering something in her ear, and she picked up the pen. She looked at Mason, conjuring up some tears, then signed her name to the original agreement. “I’ll file the documents today,” Steven quickly said, and Alexis rose to leave.

  “Just one more thing, dear, before you run off,” Kathleen said, rising to her feet and staring directly at Alexis. “If you ever again fuck with my son’s career or his relationship with Emory in any way, I will bury you under the new wood floors I’m installing for a client in The Woodlands.”

  Steven lowered his head in embarrassment, while Mason couldn’t believe his ears. Tremendous threat. Maybe she’s more like me than I thought. Alexis walked out defeated, her head down, her lawyer following behind.

  When they were gone, Kathleen collapsed into her chair and slapped both her sons on their arms. “I just cannot believe what you were offering her. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I suppose it wasn’t your business?” Mason offered gently.

  “Everything is my business, Son. You should know that by now.”

  “Mom, how did you even find out we were here?” Steven asked.

  “Olivia’s big mouth.”

  Mason punched Steven in his shoulder. “You violated attorney-client privilegeagain!”

  * * *

  Emory and Olivia got a text from Kathleen summoning them and little Noah to her house. She gave no other information. Emory and Olivia didn’t know why they were invited -- they both wondered if they were in trouble -- and also didn’t know why Kathleen was even involved on a day supposedly focused on Mason and Alexis. But the women did as they were told: they stopped taking pictures of Noah and made their way to Kathleen’s house.

  Olivia barged inside, placing the baby carrier on the ground and picking up Noah. Emory entered slowly behind her. She hadn’t been to the house in a long time, and it didn’t hold the greatest of memories. Kathleen appeared out of the kitchen, welcoming them with a bright smile and leading them through the foyer into the living room. Emory looked around, much of it the same as she remembered. But one thing caught her eye -- the picture she’d taken of Kathleen and Noah in the hospital set prominently on the wooden mantle over the fireplace.

  Emory walked towards it, Kathleen approaching behind her. “Everyone who sees it wants to know who took it. They say you made me look better than any plastic surgeon could, but I’m not so sure about that.”

  Steven came in through the French doors off the deck. He kissed Olivia and stroked Noah’s cheek. Emory looked back at the mantle, seeing Steven and Olivia’s wedding photograph, and in a small frame, a picture of her and Mason from college. She picked it up and ran her finger across the glass. So much has changed. Kathleen placed her hand on Emory’s shoulder, and they exchanged a tender look.

  “I think it’s time to upgrade to a wedding picture,” Olivia said.

  “Liv,” Steven gasped, “Mason’s been divorced about an hour.”

  “It all got done?” Emory asked.

  “Yes,” Kathleen said, a twinkle in her eye.

  “Were you involved somehow?” Em
ory asked.

  Mason appeared in the entrance to the living room. “As usual.” He pulled Emory into a hug. “Mom dropped some threats, too. One was about wood floors -- a real classic.”

  “Let’s all go to the kitchen,” Kathleen said. “I’ve got champagne chilling.”

  “Wait!” Mason said. “You never said what was in the envelope.”

  “What envelope?” Emory asked.

  “It’s in the kitchen,” Kathleen said. “Go see for yourself.”

  Mason and Steven darted away like schoolboys searching for an afternoon snack. They found the envelope on the kitchen counter. Mason quickly grabbed it and tore open the seal, his brother looking over his shoulder. Mason poured out the contents, lining them up, then the brothers stared at them -- newspaper clippings about Mason’s career, a picture of Emory, and another of Noah surrounded by Olivia and Steven. What the hell?

  “What does any of this have to do with Alexis?” Mason asked.

  “Everything.” Kathleen said, entering the kitchen with the rest of the family. “Everything I need to protect.”

  “You were bluffing?” Steven asked, with Olivia and Emory looking on, all confused.

  “Emory’s not the only good poker player,” Kathleen quipped.

  Mason ran his fingers through his hair. “But how did you know she would go for it?”

  “Son, I’ve been in the game a long time. Bitches like us always have our secrets we can’t have exposed.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Mason hated waiting, wanting to do things when he wanted. But some things, he knew, were worth waiting for.Sex. Another thing was a shipment of boxes from Texas to Charlotte. It wasn’t just any group of boxes, but a collection he’d kept in his former home. He could’ve made the shipment before his divorce was finalized, but the timing wouldn’t have been right. It had to be perfect. It had to be when Alexis was out of the picture. The time had finally come.

  He stood in the bedroom of his condo, surrounded by the boxes, hearing the front door open and close. Shit, she’s home early. He quickly tried to gather his thoughts and placed a few more boxes around the room.

  “Mason?” Emory tossed her bags down on the sofa and slipped off her shoes. “Hello?” She walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, grabbing a water bottle.

  Mason surveyed the room. It was the best he could do. He slipped out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him, Emory appearing in front of him. “Hey, baby, everything OK?” Mason nodded, gripping the handle behind him. “What’s going on? Why are you standing by the door?”

  “No reason.”

  “Whatever.” She slid out her ponytail holder and shook her head releasing her long hair. “I’m pooped out from photographing these two kids this morning. I need to go change.”

  She reached for the door handle, but Mason moved to block her. “Uh, you can’t go in the bedroom.”

  “Why not?”

  “Uh,” he stammered, “there’s a surprise for you in there.”

  Emory tried for the door again, giggling. “Well, let me see.” Mason stopped her again. Emory playfully pushed on his chest and felt his heart pounding through his shirt. “Mason, you’re acting weird. What’s going on?”

  He drew a deep breath and took her hand, intertwining their fingers. He kissed the tip of her nose and forehead and slowly turned the handle, pushing open the door. The lights were off, but the curtains were open, filling the room with natural light. He led Emory inside, then dropped her hand and moved to the side, so she could see what he’d prepared -- boxes of all shapes and sizes, wrapped in faded newspaper, scattered throughout the room.

  “What is all this?”

  “Gifts for you,” he said nervously. “I’ve had them awhile.”

  Emory knelt on the floor near one pile, examining the wrapping. “I don’t understand.”

  “The wrapping? Well, I used newspaper, so Alexis would think I was just packing up junk. I’m not a very good wrapper, either.”

  “What?” Emory asked, still confused. “When did you do all this?” She walked further into the room, running her fingertips over some other packages.

  “Past six years or so.”

  She stopped in her tracks. “You got me gifts while you weremarried?”

  “Yeah, I missed you at Christmas and on your birthday. And other times I would just see something I knew you’d love, so I’d buy it. It made me feel close to you.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek. “These are all for me?”

  “Open one.”

  Emory walked around the room, trying to decide which to open first. She gently picked up a large box and looked at the date on the newspaper. It was from three years ago. She opened it, pulling out a floppy, pink sunhat. She put it on her head and made a silly pose, causing Mason to laugh. She read a note. Was walking on the beach in Miami and saw this hat in a store window. The first night I saw you, your leotard was the same color.

  Emory turned towards him, still standing near the door. She removed the sunhat and bit her lip. They stood still, just staring at each other. Before Mason could register what was happening, Emory crashed into him, ripping at both of their clothes. They kissed and tugged at each other, their bodies colliding. Emory climbed onto him and tightened her legs around his waist. He pushed her up against the wall, as she kissed his lips hard, wrestling with his tongue. She gasped for breath, her nails digging into his back. Mason, fully erect, pulled back to look at her naked body, his blue eyes dark with passion. Emory bit her lip again. Mason thrust himself inside her in one smooth movement, and she let out a loud grunt, as she tightened around him. He moaned, relishing the warmth of her around him. He pushed her back against the wall, and she lifted her legs against his hips, as he held her, pounding into her, hard and deep. He’d waited months -- years -- for this moment. Emory felt herself building, as he dominated her.

  “Come for me, baby,” Mason said, as she tightened again.

  After a few more thrusts, Emory did as he commanded, releasing six years of frustration and loss. Her body quivered and her legs weakened, but Mason didn’t exit. Instead, he pulled her tighter to him, carrying her to the bed. He shoved a few boxes from the bed to the floor, then looked down at her, moving himself in and out of her slowly, savoring each thrust and turning his attention to her breasts, sucking and caressing them gently. He closed his eyes and moaned. Emory placed her hands around his back and held him deep inside her, urging him to go faster. Mason pumped short, hard thrusts, beckoning her to come again. She closed her eyes and screamed his name. “Em!” Mason shouted, finishing and collapsing on top of her. They rested on the bed for several minutes, still and silent, in an orgasmic coma.

  Mason rolled over and propped himself up on his elbow. “I should’ve given you a sunhat months ago.” He ran his finger across her blushed cheek and grabbed a little box from the nightstand. “Let’s see what this one gets me.”

  Emory’s eyes sparkled. It wasn’t wrapped in newspaper like the others. She sat up and slowly opened it, removing the lid. She looked down and gasped at the diamond ring staring back at her. My mother’s ring. Mason, naked, took a knee in front of her. Before he could open his mouth to speak, Emory shrieked and tackled him to the floor, planting kisses all over his face. When she finally stopped, he took the ring out of the box and pushed her hair out of her face.

  “I’ve waited a long time to say these words. Emory Claire, will you marry me?”

  “Yes!” she cried, smiling through her tears.

  Mason slipped the ring on her finger and kissed away her tears. “I can’t wait for you to be my wife.”

  Emory lowered her head onto his shoulder. “I love you.”

  Mason held her tightly, running his fingers across her bare flesh, with his eyes closed. “I’ve missed you so much.” She felt the same as he remembered, every curve of her body.

  Emory raised her head. “I had no idea all those years I was longing for you that you were doing the sam
e.”

  Mason lowered his head onto hers. “I’ve been trying to make you understand that for months.”

  “I had no idea you still loved me.”

  “I never stopped. Look around the room.”

  “I don’t need anything else,” she said, flashing her ring, “but if you insist. . . .”

  Mason drooled over her naked body, as she stretched and arched on the floor for boxes, her ring sparkling with each move. She opened a box with a bottle of bubble bath Mason thought smelled like her, another with a CD of her favorite ballet, another with a black and white photography book he found at a vintage shop in New York City, and a small box with dangling diamond earrings from Beverly Hills. And there was so much more. There seemed no end to the boxes.

  When the room was covered in torn newspaper, Emory straddled Mason on the floor and wrapped her legs around him. She kissed him slowly, rocking her hips towards him. She crossed her legs behind him, and he crossed his around her. She kissed his lips. Her hands in his hair, she felt him grow hard underneath her. She rocked herself slowly forward and slid him inside her. He moaned. She rocked her hips back and forth, sliding him in and out of her slowly. He grabbed hold of her, encouraging her -- her slow, rocking motion driving him wild. She flexed her muscles, and seized control, pushing him down and mounting him. She grabbed his hands and sat atop him, riding up and down, slowly at first, her eyes never losing contact with his. Mason grunted, begging her not to stop. She thrust harder and harder, tightening around him each time, feeling him grow larger inside her, his muscles beginning to shake. She moved faster and harder and felt herself tensing. They came together, Emory collapsing on top of him, their bodies rising and falling together. Soon they were asleep, with Mason still inside her.

  * * *

  After spending the night, Emory couldn’t wait to share the good news with Wesley. She returned to her apartment and ran up the stairs screaming for him. He met her at the door, and she held up her left hand.

  “Oh my God! He proposed?” He took her hand in his, admiring the diamond.