Karma (8 page)

Trent
Berger had no idea that he was a totally self-absorbed dickhead.

The
only child of a single mother who had ambitions for her only child, he grew up
living in a universe of one while being constantly told how special he was. Trent
thought about his own needs and tended to identify with people and situations only
where he could personally benefit. No one was ever good enough for Trent Berger.

Arrogant
and superior, Trent had a secret that he had
never
confided to anyone. In
his mind and his little heart of hearts, other people were not worthy of him
because they were all complete idiots.

There
was some truth to this as Trent Berger did have an unusually high IQ. Using
charm and subtle persuasion he had learned to influence others so that they
could be more useful to him. If that didn’t get the right result, guilt trips,
putting words into their mouth, the 'silent treatment' and general 'make wrong'
behaviors always worked.

Trent
had manipulation down to a fine art and never once
really looked
at what
he was doing. He was a taker, not a giver. He was a talker, not a listener. A
psychologist would say that Trent Berger was a self-absorbed narcissistic
personality that had no personal insight into his own motivations and behavior.

Mentally,
Trent justified everything he did, explaining away his self-absorbed approach
to life. He was hyper-critical of anyone who didn’t agree with him or adore
him. He could be charming so his patients loved him. He kept them well informed
about his many talents. He charged them extra because he had graduated top of
his class.

To
be fair, on the plus side, as a skilled orthodontist Trent really did know how
to professionally straighten teeth.

Right
now, Trent's life was just about perfect. And why shouldn’t it be? He was
brighter than anyone he knew, better looking, and he was a go-getter. Survival
of the fittest baby! That was his way of thinking. Trent figured that he was just
about the fittest person around.

Trent's
first wife, Marcy had been a necessary evil as she had supported him all
through graduate school, and they had lived in her mother's home. Initially Marcy
had recognized his authority, had been utterly compliant, and didn't ever question
him. This had been a good start, but in time she had become difficult. Trent
blamed her for every financial, marital, or any other problem they had.

Marcy
had been lucky to have been with someone in a class so far above her, but she had
never really appreciated him. She had also been a really lousy lay. The woman
was no beauty. Trent had been ashamed to be seen with her, particularly when
she put on weight during and after the baby. As he was physically a perfect
specimen, he owed it to himself to be married to someone of a similar caliber.

The
selfish bitch had gotten herself knocked up. He hadn't planned on a child, but
as Marcy had been the main breadwinner during the marriage, at least he didn’t
need to pay alimony. Child support had been judged according to the pay scale
he was on during the divorce, and that was only part-time work in a dental
surgery, and a mere pittance in pay. All in all, everything had turned out
well.

His
new wife, Debra, was twelve years younger than he was and had worked in sales. She
looked up to Trent, and bragged about all his many achievements to her father
and friends. She also did everything he said without question.

This
was exactly what Trent wanted in a wife.

Debra
had already landed him a ton of new patients. Trent knew that he deserved a
better looking woman. He needed a wife who could dress well and attend social
functions with him. Someone young and sexy that he could show off. That way
others could realize just how special and important he was.

His
new wife had a very Christian upbringing, and that was all the better in
Trent's opinion. Debra took her vows of "love, honor and obey,"
seriously. She gave him the respect he deserved and would never question him
about anything.

Too
bad she still froze up when watching porn. But making her watch it when she
didn’t like it was fun, too. He had taught her to give head like a vacuum. The
sexually deprived little slut was always happy to please him in bed.

Not
only that, but her wealthy father had expanded Trent's practice with all his
contacts in the Vegas casino and auto industry. It was her rich influential
father as much as the daughter that had him set his eye on Debra. Now Trent
employed ten technicians to do actual orthodontic treatment, while he only had
to oversee the work they did.

As
becoming an orthodontist required him to specialize in dentistry an extra three
years, he was able to make a great deal more right out of school. Joining an
established practice in a good location, he had made almost three hundred
thousand his first year out.

Managing
all the bills and using a separate savings account, Trent had stashed a lot of
money away while married to Marcy. This included Katie's college fund monies. Why
shouldn't he use that? She didn't need it yet after all. Marcy knew he had
taken it of course, but what could she do about it? All records had been
destroyed.

These
hidden savings, combined with a hefty loan from Debra's father had purchased
and set him up in his own place of business. Now that he had his own practice,
in time and according to the way he was going, it was not incomprehensible for
him to make over a million a year.

Why
couldn't Marcy understand the simplest of things? He was a busy and very important
man. Trent thought that Marcy was a stupid selfish bitch. She didn't deserve to
be married to a successful high achiever like he was.

His
daughter, Katie, could possibly be of benefit to him when she got older, but
why would he want to waste his valuable time with her now? Aside from claiming
her as a dependent for tax purposes, what was the point?

'Everyone'
loved Trent, and 'everyone' was his friend… until they really got to know him.
That was why Trent instinctively never let anyone really get to know him. If
they did – they wouldn't like him.

Trent
asked people questions about their interests and lives only for purposes of
manipulation - he wasn't actually interested. In fact when not figuring out how
to exploit them, he tended to switch off completely when people talked about
themselves.

What
Trent didn’t understand was that his hidden sense of superiority kept him from having
a real connection
to another human being. Without honest communication
in relationships with others, separate and alone, Trent was incapable of experiencing
the true joys of life.

Everything
in Trent's world was a pretense and illusion. Because others were stupid and unworthy,
he had effectively and thoroughly cut himself off from everyone.

Trent
Berger was utterly incapable of experiencing love and genuine intimacy.

If
André Chevalier met him, he would pity him for the empty lonely soul that he
was.

At
8am the next day, Mike arrived at Marcy Paget's house with a plan.

His
golden retriever sat up and thumped his tail on the car seat as Mike pulled
over and parked. "Where we going, big guy?" Mike asked him with a
pat. "Hey Zig, where we going?"

Ziggy's
whole body trembled with excitement, his eyes bright and eager.

Mike
Thompson came around, opened the door and the large dog bounded out. Zig was
six years old and weighed over seventy pounds. He was older than Mike in dog
years, but still could act like a puppy.

Kids
loved dogs and he doubted that Katie would be an exception. What better way to
get on the good side of Marcy? Ziggy would let her know how fantastic a person Mike
was.

Love
me, love my dog,
he mused.
Only in this case it would
be more like, love my dog? Then maybe you'll love me.

Hair
in a ponytail, dressed casually in jeans, Marcy's eyes widened with pleasure
and surprise when she opened the door and saw Mike's golden retriever sitting
there happily thumping his tail.

"Oh
my God! You brought your dog!" she said. Clearly an animal lover, she
immediately knelt down to rub and pet Ziggy. "Who's a handsome boy, huh?
Who's a good dog?"

Marcy's
thick hair was shiny, her skin soft and healthy. Mike breathed in her unique
female scent. Damn, she smelled good. A frisson of excitement spread through
him and he instantly went hard. He wanted to fist his hands in that hair of
hers, run his mouth across her skin, and sink his teeth in her nape while he did.

Whoa,
down boy,
he told himself.
Jesus
. How did she
do it? How did she turn him into an uncontrolled adolescent with one look? The
woman was driving him mad.

Katie
and Samantha, the other slightly older little girl that lived here came to the
door. With excited squeals and childish laughter, they joined in, all three
making much of Ziggy. It was too much for the big dog. Ziggy stood up on all
fours and began to snuffle, wriggle and bark with excitement.

"Sit,
Ziggy," Mike said, making a down motion with his hand. The golden
retriever instantly complied, a great big doggie grin spread across his face.

"Wow,"
Marcy said. "That's impressive. Is he an inside dog?"

"Sure.
He'll let me know if he needs to go out."

In
they went. Once they all were inside the condo, Mike made another hand signal
and said, "Down, Zig." Ziggy obediently lay down and remained still,
all except his irrepressible tail that thump, thump, thumped. The two girls
dropped to their knees to continue to pet and make much of him.

"I
think that Ziggy's going to want to move in," Mike said with a shake of
the head.

"I
wish," Marcy said. "I had to put our terminally ill cat down not that
long ago, poor thing. Tommy used to sleep with Katie and she really misses him.
I swear it broke our hearts. We'll get another cat hopefully, once we find a
new place to live – if we're allowed animals.

"It's
important for a child to have animals around, I think," Mike said.

"I
agree. Ziggy is a beautiful dog, and really well-trained. Did you train him?"

"Yeah,"
Mike said. "We went to dog school together and I've kept it up. I really
love that dog."

Marcy
smiled up at him with a tender expression on her face. It was a sucker punch to
Mike, making him stop breathing for a long moment. Why had he ever imagined
that her face was severe? Because right now she was incredibly beautiful.

"It
shows," she said. "I have a personal philosophy about people and
their pets, particularly dogs. I've always observed that you can tell exactly what
the dog owner is like by their animals. Super crazy owners have super crazy
dogs – have you ever noticed that? The poor creature doesn't get a chance with
a nut job raising them. Even if the person seems normal – if their dog is nuts
it's a clear sign. That owner is simply more able to hide their madness. Lucky
the opposite is also true. Sane sensible dogs have sane sensible owners."

Mike
grinned. "That sounds very much like a compliment, Marcy. Are you hitting
on me?" he teased.

"Yeah,
right," she giggled.

The
sweet sound of her laughter made Mike's heart lift. If he had his way she would
be happy all the time. God she was gorgeous. He blinked with a sudden inner
vision of having her under him in his bed. Her arms around his neck, her body
naked, her breasts… Mike cleared his throat and gave his head a shake. Damn his
wayward thoughts. What was she saying?

"The
last thing I need is a man in my life," Marcy said. "Nice try. Okay
girls, sit down and finish eating." She moved off to the kitchen and Mike
managed to return to the present. "Ziggy will visit us again sometime but
you have to get ready for school. Do you want some coffee, Mike?"

"Yes,
please."

While
Katie and the other young girl, Samantha, were enjoying their breakfast, Mike
sat down near Katie and showed her the four color permanent marker set he had brought
her. He took her pink cast out of her sling and laid her arm on the table.

"I
broke my arm when I was about your age, too," he said. "The good
thing about a broken arm is you get to have all your friends write funny stuff
on your cast."

Katie
stopped spooning her cereal into her mouth, while she watched as Mike drew a
big house on her cast. It was long and flat and had three gables. He made the
roof blue and the walls and windows red. The house itself he shaded yellow.

"Whose
house is that?" Katie asked.

"It's
my house," he said, and then he drew three stick figures, and what looked
like a big bird and an even bigger dog. "This is you, and me, and your
mom, and this is Ziggy," he explained. "And this is supposed to be a
turkey."

Bewildered,
Katie's brows knit.

"I
am drawing this because I want you guys to come to my house for Thanksgiving,
and this will remind you. Your mom told me yesterday that she had nothing
special planned. Well, I have all sorts of people coming to my house, with a
pool and lots of kids to play with. Would you like to come?" he asked.

With
a strangely solemn expression on so young a face, Katie nodded.

"Good
deal." He stood up and turned around to find Marcy staring at him with her
hands on her hips. "You'll both be there, right?" he said guilelessly
without missing a beat. "I've got a ton of people coming over and I could
use the support."

Marcy
glared at him. Mike didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what she was
thinking. He had just trapped her into coming to his house on Thanksgiving,
without asking her first. Because now her daughter Katie wanted to be there.
Mike had to admit, it was a pretty underhanded trick.

He
gave her an unrepentant smile and shrugged. "Sorry. I just didn’t want you
to find a way to get out of it. Everyone should be with family on Thanksgiving
– even if it isn’t your own family. You won't regret it, Marcy. It'll be
fun."

"What
do you have in your coffee?" she asked, making no attempt to hide her
petulance.

"Just
milk is fine. Half and half if you've got it."

Marcy
got out a bright red mug, poured him a cup from the fresh pot she had made. She
opened the fridge, got out half and half, and poured it into the cup. Still
looking a little disgruntled, she handed the mug of coffee to him.

"Thank
you," Mike said, in a cheerful voice, suppressing his triumph. He knew he
had her. She and Katie were coming to Thanksgiving dinner at his house.

After
making sure everyone had what they needed, all four of them, and Ziggy, got into
Mike's car. He dropped Katie and Samantha off at school because Marcy's car
wouldn't start. Mike told Marcy he would have a look at it when they got back,
to see if he could fix it. They could talk about her position with André as
they did.

Marcy's
car was an old four-door Neon that languished in her driveway. It was a real
shit-box, and had conked out on her the other night. Mike raised the hood and
got her to turn the key in the ignition. The noise it made wasn't pretty.

"I'm
fairly certain that the battery is dead. I'll just replace it."

"Really?"
Marcy came out of the driver's seat to walk around to speak with him.

"Hey,
that is one of the redeeming features of having a man around, we can fix
things."

Marcy
was wearing blue jeans like he was, with a yellow blouse and a feminine button
down sweater. Her nails were shaped, yet she wore no polish. Her beautiful
thick hair was coming loose from her ponytail; a few strands framed her face.

Mike's
mouth went dry and his blood heated.

Jesus.
What was it about her made her so damn sexy? She wasn't flirting, or teasing.
She wasn't particularly dressed to draw male attention. The woman was no game
player. She was a straight shooter and forthright. She knew her own mind.

Mike
had thought she was incredibly attractive yesterday. After a full night of
thinking about her, he was only more obsessed. Smitten, his wife Barbara would
have said, because she had adored romance novels.

I
am smitten with Marcy,
he realized and this fact made
him really happy. He curbed a compulsion to run his fingers through her hair
again. Instead he put his hands into his pockets.

"Men
can fix things?" Marcy snorted. "Now that's a stereotype that I
personally have not found to be true."

"Oh,
but I am the stereotype, believe me," he said. "I'm a very
stereotypical male. I sit in front of the TV drinking beer and eating popcorn.
And I'm good with my hands." He raised his eyebrows up and down
suggestively.

Marcy
laughed and shook her head. "Mike, seriously," she said. "You
have to quit flirting with me."

"Why?"

"Because
I don't date and you aren't going to get anywhere."

"Yeah,
yeah, you told me that before."

His
eyes met hers for a moment, and he saw her blush before looking away. The pink
in her cheeks captivated him. Mike knew that she felt it too, that chemistry
and longing. It was that elusive spark. They both had it. There was no point in
pretending it wasn't there. It was the start of something good.

He
caught her hand, incredibly conscious of how small and feminine it was in
contrast to his own. It felt good to touch her. To capture those petite fingers
and hold them safe within his own hand. When she tried to pull away, he gave her
a slight squeeze, but didn't let go.

"I
like you, Marcy," he said. "And I can see that you like me, too. This
is no big deal, so don't get worked up about nothing. We're not dating. I just
want to be friends and hang out, okay? Now," he said, releasing her hand. "Let's
go and buy a battery for your car."

They
went off to 'Batteries Plus' and Mike bought her a battery. There was a little
fight over that, but Mike won.

"I
know you're an independent woman and you're not incapable," he said. "I
know that you would have figured it out and replaced your own battery. I also know
that you can afford it. But I am thinking of my own happiness, so it's just too
bad. I'm a very selfish person. I want the pleasure of buying this for you."

Marcy
laughed loudly at that, just as Mike had hoped she would.