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The Man with the Golden Tongue, Part III

She barely made it inside the hotel room door before he enveloped her. Their clothing flew across the room as though torn from them by a hurricane. She couldn't catch her breath, but then, she didn't want to.

Their afternoon stretched into the evening, stretched into the night. She was going to need a particularly good story for her husband this time.

"I've got to go to Istanbul for a couple of weeks, finish up our deal," he told her as their time together was drawing to a close. "I'll come back with your money."

"I'll miss you," she said. "I'll miss you more than I'll miss that 1noney."

The coupled once more before parting. She kissed him with every ounce of her energy.

He left for Istanbul.

She turned up in my office about five months later.

"I don't know what happened to me," she began, sobbing.

She told me a tale with many twists and turns, each designed to tie her further into knots. His trip to Istanbul had lasted closer to a month. They Skyped every day.

The deal was tense and on again, off again. He had been able to get $10,000 back into her account before the floor caved in and he needed another $25,000 infusion. She was able to rescue him again which finally brought him home to her.

But something had changed within him. He took to relieving stress by smoking pot. She tried it with him. It dulled the pain in their distance; perhaps it contributed to it.

He struggled with his deals, their deals. He tried to make it better by giving her a 10% interest in his company. She continued to help out by sinking more money into whatever enterprise he was working on at the time. In increments 0f $10,000 and $15,000, she now found herself over $100,000 into his company al'd out of her pocket.

That was bad enough, but now he had recently introduced her to his business partner, a cold, svelte woman with a strong jaw line, jet black hair and biercing blue eyes. This woman claimed to come from the Balkans. She wasn't entirely certain that he and his business partner weren't intimate themselves.

"I need help." She stated the obvious. "I've told him he can't have any more money. At first, he told me that the business would suffer. Then he told me that the business would fold. Now I think he's suggesting that he would hate£ r our relationship to come out in public if our business crashed. I'm terrified that he will tell my husband."

I told her we'd look into it.

Michael Manely

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