Present Day: May 2004
“Officer! You know that I am entitled to telephone my attorney. What rubbish is transpiring here?” The scrawny red-haired corrections officer with a wooden toothpick dangling from the side of his mouth continued to disregard the pleas of the recently imprisoned, meticulously dressed, and well-spoken businessman. “It is essential that I speak to counsel!”
The corrections officer turned to the sports section, ignoring the handsome dark-skinned individual urgently diverting his attention. “Are you keen on maintaining a paycheck? Officer! I won’t tolerate your disrespect for me. Are you aware of who I am? Do you know what I can have done to you?” The officer smirked at Jasper and sipped his coffee.
“You insolent . . . menial . . . blue-collar drudge!” Jasper shouted.
Fed up with Jasper’s rhetoric, the officer approached Jasper’s jail cell. “Look, Mr. GQ, your money may carry weight downtown on Wall Street, but here in criminal booking, you are just prisoner no. 809.”
Jasper punched the wall, bruising his fist, and angrily shouted, “I will not remain in here another hour!” Stripping Jasper’s freedom compromised his power . . . his worth.
Jasper Anson Cunningham was managing lead partner of Cunningham, Gates & Waddell, LLP, a half-a-billion-dollar New York City financial services firm. He sat alone in a five-by-eight-foot jail cell at the downtown Manhattan holding pen awaiting arraignment in criminal court. His mind raced with disturbing thoughts regarding the turbulent illicit activity that transpired in his partnership firm and his unscrupulous love affairs over the months, weeks, and days leading to his arrest. In spite of Jasper’s meticulous planning, he had not once considered the possibility of being accused of a crime far less arrested. Most of Jasper’s colleagues viewed him as a brilliant, charming, and wealthy executive; but everyone knew his arrogance and greed would misguide him. He presumed his influence and power were sufficiently cunning to avert discovery. Apparently, Jasper was amiss.
“This filthy place,” Jasper whispered to himself as he rubbed his right temple firmly. “What have they done?” he questioned but with halfhearted disbelief. Jasper stared the officer in the eyes and assumed a different tactic. “What’s your name, sir?”
“Officer Maloney.”
Jasper slowly read his badge mockingly, “Officer LIAM Maloney. You know I will be released very shortly. And you know it’s my right to make a phone call. I will ensure that YOU, OFFICER LIAM MALONEY, are the only name mentioned when I hold the city accountable for violation of my rights. Regardless of what those FBI agents said, you know their covert asses will be protected. Not yours.” Officer Maloney momentarily pondered Jasper’s remarks, knowing his comments were accurate.
Jasper calmly continued, “Now, in spite of what the FBI might have told you, open this cell and get me to a phone. You have nothing to lose. I’m only going to call my attorney. You can stand there and watch me dial . . . listen to the conversation for that matter. But I need to make this call now! Your forty-five-thousand-dollar-a-year job is worthless to ME. Is it for you, Officer LIAM Maloney?”
Swayed by the well-manicured businessman who convincingly stood before him, Officer Maloney looked up and down the hallway and saw no one else around. He quickly opened the cell door, and Jasper stepped out and followed him down the corridor.
Jasper patted him on the shoulder and contently remarked, “Good man! Good man!”
As they approached the end of the hall, Jasper saw the phone in his view. However, the call he needed to make could not be heard by anyone.
“I’ll walk the rest of the way from here, Officer.” Jasper proceeded alone to the phone.
“Hello, I need to speak with Antonio.” Jasper did not call his attorney but instead his Colombian underworld cohort, Antonio Ignacio. Jasper believed Antonio was obligated to assist him given the money-laundering, racketeering, and embezzling transactions that Jasper and his business partners had facilitated for the Ignacio family over the past few years. However, as Jasper began his conversation with Antonio, the arresting officer, FBI Agent Lawson, stormed into the holding area and dashed toward Jasper on the phone.
“What’s going on here?” Agent Lawson shouted.
Simultaneously, Jasper quickly spoke to the party on the phone, “We have to reconcile this, Antonio. There’s been a grave misunderstanding. The FBI has—”
Midway through Jasper’s sentence, FBI Agent Lawson ripped the telephone receiver out of Jasper’s hands, grabbed Officer Maloney’s nightstick, and clobbered Jasper across the back of his head, and he fell to the ground.
“Drag this prisoner back to his cell immediately before YOU are taking his place,” Agent Lawson said to Officer Maloney.
Jasper was unconscious for about an hour. When he awakened, at that very moment, he was concerned for his freedom and, more importantly, his life. In his thirty-six years, he had never been legally detained although his business activities in recent months caused increased concern over possible federal securities regulatory investigations and even greater concern of being associated with his clients’ felonious criminal activity. Furthermore, increased indiscretion in his personal life clouded his otherwise calculated decision making.
Jasper touched his bloodstained head and rubbed his bruised knuckles as he sat on the urine-stained hard mattress. Unbefitting to his environment, Jasper was dressed in a $3,600 custom-made navy blue pin-striped suit, the jacket taken away along with his $25,000 Cartier watch, eighteen-carat gold cuff links, and wallet. His mustard-colored shirt made from pure Egyptian cotton bore his scripted initials JAC on the cuffs. To briefly diffuse the stench of the bed, Jasper sniffed his shirtsleeve and slightly smiled as the scent offered a memory of Tracey, and he reflected on the prior evening.
The Night before Jasper’s Arrest
A round of applause resounded in the Crystal Jazz Room on the sixty-second floor of the Vanderbilt building. There were over two hundred affluent millionaires enjoying jazz tunes, cocktails, and gourmet dishes.
“That was Billie Holiday’s classic ‘It’s Very Clear’ played by New York City’s own Charles Soon and the Soon Quintet,” announced the master of ceremony. There was another round of applause. “We will take a fifteen-minute break.”
“What have I done in this life to deserve you?” asked Jasper as he stared into Tracey’s eyes. Tracey smiled and sipped more wine.
Jasper and Tracey sat in a candlelit semicircle booth in the corner of the elegant clubroom. The lights were dim, and a small number of intimate tables allowed for privacy. Tracey nibbled on sautéed crab cakes in light béarnaise while Jasper enjoyed lobster meat topped with caviar on brochette in an aioli sauce. Tracey drank a glass of Pinot Grigio while Jasper finished his second extra dry vodka martini with olives. To the left of Tracey was the ice bucket containing one-third of the remaining wine.
“You are a beautiful, sexy, intelligent woman. You bring clarity into my complex world. You give a man all that he needs to look forward to . . . another liberating evening of solace.”
“Jasper, kiss me.” Jasper reached over to Tracey, partially parted his mouth, and kissed Tracey’s soft warm lips. He was so gentle yet firm, she thought. This was the oxymoron to Tracey: Jasper is a man whose daily activities included a fast-paced, harsh, aggressive, and oftentimes, brutal business world with cutthroat dealing and swindling. Yet his kiss revealed a man who was passionate and caring. They continued to kiss for a while until Tracey recalled her exciting news. She became giddy and bubbly, almost childlike, quite contrary to her demeanor in the workplace.
“I closed a $15 billion equity restructuring deal today for one of my dormant clients. This deal was a sleeper for months. Not only did I revive it, but I generated unanticipated record revenues for the investment bank.”
“My lady.” Jasper raised his glass, and Tracey followed suit. They smiled at each other and toasted.
“To the smartest female investment banker on the Street.”
“Female?” Tracey asked somewhat insulted by his sexist remark.
“Apologies, apologies,” he conceited. “Investment banker, period. I couldn’t help but say female because none of the investment bankers I have ever dealt with had such a pretty smile.” Jasper touched her chin and kissed her cheek.
“Which company had the stock deal?” asked Jasper.
“Jasper, now you know I can’t say until the news is made public.”
“Sorry. I forgot I’m with a woman who knows about high-profile stock market transactions before most anyone on the Street,” he slyly remarked.
The band reassembled on stage to play another set. An older female singer approached the microphone as the band played an upbeat jazz tempo.
She sang, “On a clear day, rise and look around you. And you’ll see who you are. On a clear day, how it will astound you that the joy of your being outshines every star.”
“I love those lyrics. It’s what life is all about. You can live in a fog, yet [Tracey sang along] on a clear day you can see forever, and ever . . . evermore. I’ve been through so many dark years muddled with pain. Now things are clearer for me.” Tracey looked at Jasper’s eyes and professed, “I love you.”
This greatly pleased Jasper. Although he could have been with most any woman of his choice, Tracey was a rarity, he thought. She was emotionally connected to him, kindhearted, and sexually desirable unlike the scheming, manipulative women he encountered over the years. He kissed her again but, this time, embraced her face lovingly.
Tracey felt his passion and remarked, “Who would have thought the day you were closing the Blackstone & Carter merger deal at my offices that it would lead to this?”
“Oh, I did,” Jasper smugly replied. They burst out laughing, clearly giddy from their cocktails. Jasper caught his breath from his laughter.
“No, seriously, I did,” said Jasper.
“Oh, come on.”
“When I walked into that conference room, we locked eyes. Our inner souls exuded the connection. I remember the day well. Your long brown hair was swept up, and your beautiful neck and eyes were saying, ‘Come take me, my love.’” Jasper touched her hair and kissed her neck, and they both laughed.
Jasper continued, “You held a burgundy Montblanc pen in your left hand with your long lovely fingers.” He took her left hand, placed the tip of her finger in his mouth, and licked it up and down. They laughed again.
“Your shapely, firm round breasts nearly made me holler.” They both laughed incessantly as Tracey knew that he would attempt to kiss her breasts. He playfully bent his head to kiss her cleavage.
“Don’t you dare in public,” Tracey said firmly but with the edge of a challenge. Jasper stopped. Then quickly pecked her cleavage. They laughed.
“And then . . . when you opened your mouth to speak . . . I thought, ‘Goodness, thank you, Father. She is a financial genius.’” He kissed her mouth lovingly.
“Now you know that story is not the truth,” said Tracey. She loved Jasper’s intelligent, precise way of being a man . . . so brilliant, yet so simple.
“Sure it is. I wanted you, and you wanted me just the same, if not more.”
“Of course you know that is insane. When I saw that wedding band on your finger, all temporary green buttons turned red immediately. And considering that wedding band is still on your finger, we should talk.”
Jasper’s joy is slightly deflated. “Tracey, come on now. You know we’ve worked out a plan and timeline. It’s only a matter of weeks. Relax, sweetie. Let’s not allow such distracting issues to weigh upon such a beautiful evening.”
The waiter came over and poured the remaining wine into Tracey’s glass and asked, “Sir, do you and the lady care to have dessert?”
Jasper looked at Tracey. “I will have dessert, but not anything on the menu.” Jasper smiled at Tracey and kissed her hand. “We’ll have the check please.”
They left the jazz room, exited the building, and entered Jasper’s private black stretch limousine that waited outside.
“Henry, the usual,” Jasper said to his driver.
“Yes, sir,” Henry replied.
As they drove through the glaring city lights of Manhattan, Jasper looked at Tracey, knowing how much she loved him. He gave her as much as he could, he thought, that is for a mistress.
As they rode the elevator to the forty-fourth floor of the five-star Regency Palace Hotel, Tracey slipped her right hand into Jasper’s pants to touch him; she yearned for Jasper to make passionate love to her every day they were apart. They looked each other squarely in the eyes. Tracey was a tall woman standing at five feet ten inches and, coupled with her four-inch heels, reached Jasper’s mouth at six feet two inches with ease. Jasper gently placed his lips on hers and slowly swirled his tongue around her warm mouth. He touched her hand from outside his pants and pressed her fingers against him. They ached for each other, but to Tracey, their relationship was significantly more than sexual encounters. She loved him deeply. They held hands as they walked off the elevator to suite 4409. Jasper placed the card key in the door but, before opening, turned to his side to look at Tracey’s hazelnut eyes lovingly.
“Your beauty is simply unimaginable. I love you more than life,” Jasper whispered. He tenderly kissed her smooth left cheek as they entered the suite.
Jasper met Tracey every other Thursday for over two years at the Regency Palace Hotel for a romantic evening, oftentimes preceded by an extravagant dinner at a discreet restaurant. During the summer months, they spent their bimonthly meetings cruising the Hudson River on his personal yacht and relishing the calm of the New York City water and skyline. Tonight, however, they dined and danced at the Crystal Jazz Room, less discreet than they ordinarily would choose, but their affairs became more and more risqué over recent weeks. Thereafter, they would conclude with a nightcap in suite 4409 at the Regency Palace. Although he was financially able, Jasper’s suite was reserved for his pleasure as a gift from a prominent hedge fund client who owned a significant equity stake in the hotel. Jasper’s business associates were far-reaching and extended many favors.
The hotel’s ambiance was elegant and traditional, characteristic of Jasper’s and Tracey’s personalities. The floors were rich dark walnut with plush Parisian rugs appropriately placed throughout the four-room suite. The cognac-colored drapes were well-tailored and aristocratic with sloping valances and a velvet touch. They were drawn setting off a breathtaking view overlooking Manhattan and the East River. The king-sized mahogany bed with eight-foot-high bedposts displayed a regal eighteenth-century wood-carved design covered with a burgundy-and-gold satin spread that was inviting.
Tracey sat with her legs crossed on the elegant amber french provincial chair in the parlor area of the room. She wore a cobalt blue skirt suit without stockings since her slim bronze legs were smooth and eloquent. Black patent leather Versace pumps dangled on her feet. Her skirt rose above her knees, and her tailored low-cut suit jacket was closely fitted with no blouse underneath. She wore a single strand of diamonds around her slim long neck, one of the many gems that Jasper gifted her over the years.
Jasper was several feet away on a bronze chaise glaring at Tracey’s beauty, not speaking a word, as they built the anticipation of the evening. They never rushed their sparse time together. Oftentimes they spent half the night in suite 4409 sipping wine and expressing fantasies as foreplay. Tracey unearthed a sexual quality that other women whom Jasper entangled in his tumultuous life could not. He opened a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon 1981 that was chilling on ice while continuing to admire his beautiful Tracey. He poured the wine and breathed the aromatic fruits. Tracey sensually sipped her wine, savoring the nutty taste while momentarily questioning her actions as she routinely did when her deepest feelings were exposed.
Why am I with this man? she silently thought. A man whom I clearly know is not mine. A man whose wife, Laura, of four years is eight months pregnant with their first child—a son Jasper greatly desired. Each time Tracey met him, she questioned her goals, as she knew Laura wanted to remain in Jasper’s life forever. Tracey could not bear children, and Jasper wanted a namesake and had the potential to be a good role model to a child, she presumed. He smiled at Tracey, and his reassurance removed her fears and doubts.
Mellow from the Cabernet, Tracey was amorous and wanted her handsome tall brown-skinned man to make love to her. She stood up and unbuttoned her pearlized jacket to reveal her full cleavage. Her large breasts longed for Jasper’s strong touch; it was the moment she had longed for over the weeks, in between encounters that seemed like months apart. Jasper walked toward her, knowing she felt even stronger desires than those shared earlier. He softly kissed her breasts, and Tracey briefly looked away with a moment of introspection that was quickly overcome by her passionate, never-ending love for him. Tracey looked deeply into his eyes to appreciate his beauty and allowed her heart to be loved and express passion in return. That was all that mattered on this evening.
Tracey drank more wine and rested her crystal wineglass on the black marble table. They walked over to the majestic bed, and she leaned on the posts standing in front of him to allow Jasper to fondle her now completely exposed breasts with nipples erect. Jasper gently licked the outline, tickling Tracey. And she giggled. He cupped her large breasts in his hands while he sucked her nipples, massaging them gently as he kissed them side to side teasingly. Tracey moaned in pleasure from his tantalizing. He smelled her neck with a weakness for her signature perfume that was fragrant in select places on her body. Tracey placed her breast back into his mouth as he relished sucking all that could enter.
In a heated moment, Jasper quickly spun Tracey around and unzipped her skirt to reveal her lilac silk panties that he removed down her legs before burying his face in the crotch, embellishing in the scent of her body while growing more impatient for her. Jasper licked Tracey’s back up and down and placed her onto the bed on her stomach. He gently squeezed the soft of her buttocks then parted her legs and licked her entire crotch from behind, intermittently allowing his tongue to touch her body. She released a screech of joy, urging Jasper for more, getting Tracey uncontrollably excited. She trembled from the rare sensitive sensation.
“Oh, Jasper, don’t stop. This is so good. Oh, Jasper, more . . . more. I want you inside of me. Make love to me . . . now.” Jasper continued to lick her, and she quivered more.
“Oh my . . . Jasper. Get undressed. I want to feel you inside of my body. Love me . . . love me. I miss you so much.”
Jasper wanted to savor the night and, therefore, slowed the pace of the lovemaking.
“No . . . I’m going to make you beg.”
“I am so ready for you . . . Oh, make love to me, Jasper.”
Jasper rose and undressed while Tracey lay on the bed anxious to proceed. Jasper watched Tracey turn around onto her back and massage herself while he removed his tie, shirt, and pants. She put her finger inside of her body in a pulsating motion as her hips slowly moved up and down on the bed with Jasper standing over her watching. Jasper’s erection was now well pronounced. He touched himself firmly and moaned as he watched Tracey stimulate herself.
Tracey rose, took Jasper’s hand, and walked to the glass-enclosed shower. Jasper joined Tracey under the warm running water, and they massaged orange blossom liquid body wash all over each other while stimulating their bodies in sensitive places. After they rinsed, they remained in the shower with the warm water still running. Tracey kneeled, and Jasper entered her mouth. She sucked him until he moaned loudly, and then she ceased since she too wanted the evening to last. Tracey backed up against the tile wall in the shower and lifted her slim long legs and wrapped them around his body. Jasper was strong enough to lift both of Tracey’s legs in his arms and penetrated her against the shower wall slowly and firmly.
“Oh, love me . . . yes . . . Jasper . . . love me. You fill all of me inside.”
Jasper increased his speed and rhythm. Tracey moaned as he opened her more deeply within as the sudsy water ran over their bodies. His pulsating rhythm was strong and vigorous, the passion immeasurable. She thrust her pelvis forward to get every inch of Jasper inside of her as he simultaneously pushed farther inside of her intensely with rapidly increasing force until she released orgasmic screams. But Jasper wanted more.
With dripping wet bodies, he moved her to the bedroom and tussled and played with her on the mahogany bed. She could not seem to bring herself to utter words as he rubbed and caressed her slippery body. She longingly urged for more as he elevated both of her legs over his shoulders and eased into her juicy warm body. They deeply kissed each other hungrily sucking tongues as Jasper squeezed her voluptuous soft breasts while he forcefully pulsed into her.
Making love with Jasper was the warmest feeling any woman could ever experience, Tracey thought. She felt he was a selfless lover—caring and passionate. Jasper always wanted Tracey to have several orgasms before he allowed himself to do the same. When Jasper paced himself, he could make love to Tracey all night. But his actions were intentional. Jasper was keen on controlling Tracey sexually so that she would do and tell him most anything he wanted outside the bedroom, confidential or not.
After Tracey had climaxed again, Jasper temporarily ceased their lovemaking.
“Would you like more wine?” he asked.
“No, I drank far too much this evening. An espresso would work better.”
Jasper picked up the phone. “Yes, please send up two double espressos and a bottle of Rémy Martin. Oh, I’ll also have the smoked salmon and imported cheese.”
The room had a balcony where they sat in robes eating their hors d’oeuvres. Tracey enjoyed her espresso while Jasper had a snifter of the cognac. The moonlit starry sky was radiant, and the forty-fourth floor seemed like it was in the clouds.
“So tell me more about the equity restructuring deal you closed today,” Jasper asked.
While appropriately reluctant earlier in the evening, a content, slightly inebriated Tracey responded, “You should have been in the boardroom today, Jasper.”
Encouraging the conversation, Jasper reached over and pecked her on the cheek. “I’m sure my lady was a superstar.”
“It was the Schultz Insurance Group. You know that blue-blood company has always been difficult. Anyway, they will be issuing preferred and common stock for a newly incorporated group of insurance subsidiaries. We packaged an innovative equity product with option clauses that investors will pay a premium price for. The capital raised will be used to purchase high-risk securities, largely in emerging markets. Venezuela and Brazil will be two main targets with allocation to the Chinese market as well.”
“You are unbelievable, my global banker. How soon will they close?” he probed.
“The international regulatory approval is done. They plan to publicly hit the market by Tuesday the twenty-fifth.”
Jasper smiled. “Is there anything my lady can’t do well?” He obtained all his desired inside information.
Jasper turned to Tracey and kissed her again on the patio. They both stood up near the rail of the balcony.
“Turn around,” Jasper whispered in her ear. Tracey turned, and Jasper leaned her upper body over the balcony of the forty-fourth floor. Tracey trusted Jasper and was unafraid.
“Spread your legs, sweetie.”
Jasper helped to part her legs and entered inside of Tracey. She shrieked in ecstasy. She was hanging over the balcony edge as he made love to her from behind. Tracey loved the excitement, pain, and pleasure. They made love under the stars above the New York City streets. She enjoyed these times when Jasper let loose with daring lovemaking. It made her orgasm stronger. They were both risk takers in every aspect of their lives. Jasper held Tracey from behind as her upper torso hung over the balcony. The stars were above, and the threat of falling forty-four stories on her mind.
“Yes, Jasper . . . push . . . harder . . . harder,” Tracey shouted. The combined danger of falling and the sexual pleasure was enormously stimulating for both of them. Tracey raised her left leg for deeper penetration and lost her footing, and Jasper grabbed her back onto the balcony. They laughed and continued with even more drunken pleasure. This behavior was not unusual for them as Jasper would customarily perch Tracey on the railing edge of his yacht while they engaged in passionate sex. On one occasion, she actually fell into the water from his wild sexual force and caused a stir when local coast guards had to assist Tracey naked out of the Rockaways. The threat of peril thrilled both of them as Jasper pushed deeper with each forceful thrust, knocking her off balance. He grabbed her hips and continued with intense pressure, and Jasper finally climaxed inside of her. Tracey turned to look at him.
“I love you, Mr. Cunningham.”
“I love you beyond life itself, Tracey Bodden.”
They embraced each other with a warm loving kiss, knowing they would not experience this passion until they met again in two weeks. But for tonight, they were both comforted.