Relations

"I want out, Luz."

The attorney narrowed hazel eyes at her client. "My specialty is more corporate and entertainment law, Gigi. You need a divorce lawyer, maybe even someone skilled in international law."

Gigi turned away from the spectacular view of San Francisco Bay. "I know you can't do this Luz...no offense. I need you to refer me to someone who can. Who do you know that's good enough to represent me; someone who can stand by me against my father and my husband?"

Luz Hernandez massaged her temples, swiveled her chair to face the windows of her office at Terrranova Records. She was head of the in-house legal department. Luz knew all about Gigi's predicament...and it was a doozie. She would need someone who played dirty. Shouldn't be hard to find a lawyer like that, right? Well, finding one who played dirty, with decent morals was difficult. And a divorce attorney who could handle international fortunes...not in the States.

"I know of someone--"

"Get 'em here. ASAP, Luz!"

Luz stared at Gigi for a moment. This young woman was desperate. "Gigi...I know of him. He's got a perfect track record and has been practicing for nearly thirty years. Tough, thorough...expensive."

Gigi sat on the edge of Luz's desk. "He can have anything short this company. If this guy is any good and can do what I need, I don't give a damn what it costs. This isn't just about me. My uncle could lose big too. He intended for me to run Terranova Records. All that was screwed up when I got auctioned off to the highest bidder." She stood and began to pace. "Andy can have my father's rotten soul, but I'm not for sale. This company is not up for grabs. I need someone on my side who can comprehend that...someone who can produce results with those things in mind."

Luz nodded gravely. "Stavros Mandolastokis is your best starting point."

"Good. I need to speak to him today. Where is he?"

"Athens, Greece."
*********************************************
"A poetry what?" Lynelle's dainty nose wrinkled.

Why did he waste his time? "Slam," Jack mumbled. "A poetry slam. It's similar to a poetry reading."

She laughed and turned her attention back to the traffic. They were going to the airport to retrieve Jack's daughter. "Okay, now I remember. I've heard of those. A proactive woman at the office goes to things like that. I don't think we'd fit in Jack. Mostly inner city people...minorities. It's probably less poetry and more like that awful rap without the music. I'm just not 'down with the struggle'. I don't get their beef with society."

A muscle in his jaw ticked. Inner city people? Down with the struggle? Their beef with society? Jack just couldn't commiserate with that kind of mindset, despite having grown up in Texas; the state where racism was like a religion in some places. With the number of immigrants that settled there, the number of people to hate was sky rocketing. That meant the racists were multiplying also. His parents had always been open-minded, but not so for some of his other relatives. There were aunts, uncles and cousins who still talked about 'shipping them back where they came from'. Jack, his brothers and sister were taught to respect everyone and their differences until that respect was proven to be misplaced. Good and bad came in all varieties. He was thankful for the multicultural business associates and friends who visited the Urgayle ranch. That prepared him for the Navy and college. The armed forces and large university campuses were true melting pots and helped to reinforce the lessons Jack was brought up with.

Lynelle, on the other hand, was less liberal. She believed that everybody started life on the same footing. Jack knew differently. He had lived many places, known many personalities...seen many prejudices. The truth was, not everyone was equal and a long history of societal ignorance was to blame. Sometimes, he wondered about non-minorities who seemed so...disinterested in other ethnicities and cultures. This mentality didn't just prevail among Americans, but with American history being as...cringing as it was, the US was a reasonable barometer of international race relations. Lynelle was hardly a rarity and that didn't make her a bad person. Jack just preferred talking to people who understood themselves and the impact of their beliefs on those around them, whatever those beliefs may be.

"I doubt we'd be walking into a Black Panther rally." He replied, deliberately baiting her.

"Close enough! Can you see the two of us and that woman from my office trying to blend in? Pretending to be sympathetic to their problems. Pretending to understand what doesn't exist?" Lynelle scoffed and opened the glove compartment to retrieve a nail file she always left there. Her face screwed up at the title of a book lying inside. "Jack, really...'Haiku World: An International Poetry Almanac'? Just when I thought your reading interests couldn't get any stranger. Haiku? Isn't that the Korean stuff? Can you even understand the language? Where do you get these things?"

Jack glanced at his watch. They would be early if they kept traveling at this rate, straight to the airport. Very early. He didn't want Erin to have to look for him, but he had to do this. At the next exit, he veered off and directed the SUV toward Lynelle's apartment.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking you home." Jack answered stonily, his voice stern.

"Whatever for? Aren't we fetching Erin?"

He shot her a chilly glare. "We aren't fetching anything. I'm going to pick up my daughter...alone."

She laughed condescendingly. Jack could be such a jerk. Lynelle only bothered because he was such a fool, and had a huge cock. If he would just keep his enlightened mouth shut... "You're upset because I teased you about your poetry? Fine. I'm sorry."

"It's not about poetry Lynn. It's about you." He tried to explain calmly. "I don't want my daughter to know I'm involved with such a small-minded woman. You talk about a poetry reading like it's a plot against mankind. My books threaten your ignorance. Don't you want to know more?" Jack's frustration was pouring out. "Haiku is a Japanese art form...not Korean. Yes, I can understand the language, since haiku is written in all languages...even English. And that book in particular, was a gift."

"A gift? From who? Some hippie professor at Berkeley?"

The SUV came to a screeching halt on the side of the road. "Get out!" He seethed.

"Shut up and drive, Jack." Lynelle was oblivious to just how incensed Jack was.

He pressed the automatic locks and reached across Lynelle to open her door. She only continued to stare at him derisively, sure that he was trying to scare her. "Get out Lynn." His voice was deathly quiet, eyes blazing. When she refused to move a muscle, Jack shoved her.

With a tumbling yelp, she fell out of the vehicle and into the dirt and weeds beside the busy road. Jack slammed the passenger door shut and drove off. As Lynelle struggled to her feet, the back tires kicked up dust and covered her in filth. She screamed with rage at being treated so harshly and went running blindly after the speeding truck.

"You cocksucking bastard! Get back here! Get back here, Jack! I hate you motherfucker!!! You fucking murdering mercenary!!! Soldier of fucking fortune!!! Fuck you! FUCK!!! YOU!!!"
*********************************************
Jack sat in the dark of his living room, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table in front of him. What a shitty day. First Lynelle, then Teresa. He grabbed the bottle and took a considerable swig, enjoying the encompassing warmth of the strong alcohol. His tolerance was high and another full bottle was likely to be consumed before the end of the night. Slowly the events of the day began to bother him less, but Jack was not deluding himself. Tomorrow the pain would slam into him like a wrecking ball. But tonight, he cared little that he could have seriously injured Lynelle. Tonight, Jack let his disappointment over his daughter's absence float away on waves of distilled libations.

It was so unbelievable, he had to laugh. Erin never showed up. Her plane landed safely and she wasn't on it. Never even got on the plane. Never even went to the airport. Never even packed her cute pink suitcases. No, that last part wasn't true. Erin did pack her pink suitcases...to go to the Everglades with her cousins...her mother's side of the family. When Jack finally tracked Teresa and Erin down, they were at Teresa's brother's place in Ft Lauderdale. Teresa just changed her mind about letting Erin visit Jack. With full custody, she had a right to do that, no explanations needed...legally. He just expected some fucking courtesy! Jack expected to find out before the last possible minute, that Erin wasn't coming. Expected to talk to his daughter, to find out how she truly felt about this sudden change of plans. They hadn't seen each other in nearly a year and Erin was excited to be making the trip to Santa Octavia. But Teresa held all the cards where Erin was concerned. Teresa still hated the fact that not even having his child could keep Jack with her...hated him even after six years of divorce.

On his way to retrieve the next bottle of Jack Daniels, he paused to admire the present Sam had gotten for Erin. It arrived the day before and Jack realized why Sam had sent it instead of buying it and leaving it behind. Technically, it was another weapon, but Sam was clever this time. It was beautiful and Erin would have loved it. Teresa would have hated it. The fine archery set was designed for sporting use...but not the kind of sporting that included hunting or maiming of any kind. Yes, Erin would have screeched her joy at the sight of the silver and black bow and it's arrows. It was even made for left-handed shooters, like Erin would have been. Would be. She would get her gift from Sam and Jack would see his daughter, soon enough...even if he had to fly to Tampa and go toe-to-toe with Teresa first.
*********************************************
Uh-oh. Somebody must have pissed Master Chief Urgayle off. He was in an unbelievably foul mood. This time, no one could escape that murderous glare and stifling anger. All of his men tip toed on eggshells, his recruits simply cowered and the civilians who held martial arts classes twice a week were ignored, swallowed up by Jack's hostile silence.

"Still think he ain't so bad," Donny asked as they packed away equipment in his car after a very tense class.

Gigi peered at Jack as he stood over one of the recruits, berating him for some infraction and laying down the law in scathing detail. She didn't know what to make of him today. Obviously, Jack was on a razor's edge and taking it out on anybody who happened to breathe the same air as he did. But still...this behavior was extreme, especially from a man who seemed to have his head on straight.

"He's an asshole," Mike muttered.

The insult made Gigi flinch. She hadn't mentioned anything to the others about Jack's...intellectual side, the person who read prose and embraced self-awareness. Mike and Donny wouldn't care anyway, probably wouldn't believe that Jack wasn't a demon who breathed fire and ate babies for breakfast every morning. Gigi had to agree though, at that moment, Jack was being the salty Master Chief to the near-frightening hilt.

When his tirade was over, Jack stalked back towards the beach. He was going to be especially brutal with the tadpoles today. Boy, the looks on their faces when they saw him this morning...at 05:00. Wasn't the chief supposed to be gone for several days? What the hell was he doing there, shining flashlights in their faces and yelling at the top of his lungs? It was almost funny until Jack thought about why he was there...because Erin wasn't.

From behind, someone touched his arm. Jack swung around, ready to let loose a river of profanity. He didn't have time for whatever the fuck it was! But he had to look down to see who his next target would be.

"Hey, chief." Gigi's smile held even as she was confronted by pale, empty eyes and flared nostrils.

Jack stared at her expectantly. "What do you want Miss Giancarlo," he growled impatiently.

"Whoa, chief...take it easy." She deflected all the malice now directed at her. "I just wanted to say hello...and to ask you what happened to you?"

His hands braced on his hips, making him look even bigger, more imposing. "Mission accomplished. You've said what you had to say. Weren't you leaving for the day?"

She just stood there, shocked, but not motivated by his suggestive words and ill-manner. Wasn't she leaving for the day? Nothing subtle about that question. Gigi looked up at him, clearly concerned about his behavior today. He only gave her that hard, killers glare that all the SEALs had perfected. That didn't work on her. Gigi knew Jack liked love poems. "What happened to you?" She repeated the question gently. "Why are you so upset? You've got everybody shitting their pants, Jack. Why?"

Dammit! She was growing on him just like Sam had. Gigi was beginning to see past his stony facades whenever he got pissed off. Sam brushed all of Jack's intimidation tactics aside too and aimed straight for the heart of the matter, asked direct questions, refused the cold shoulder.

"My daughter was supposed to visit me this week." His words were nearly inaudible, anger still tangible.

"Why didn't she come?"

"Her mother..." Jack paused before he said something unkind. No one, except Sam, had ever heard Jack say a negative word about Teresa. She was once his wife, was the mother of his child. He wasn't going to badmouth someone he had been so deeply involved with. "Her mother decided against it...at the last minute."

"Oh...I'm sorry, Jack." Gigi really was. She could see, even before now, how Jack felt about his daughter. He clearly loved the girl. Just the way his face lit up the other day when he talked about Erin, told Gigi that much. They may not spend a lot of time together, but she was sure the two got along well, were probably as close as they could be, given their circumstances, which now Gigi understood to include an impetuous ex-wife. "Maybe she can come another time. Hopefully soon."

"Starry-eyed, youthful optimism," he scoffed, but immediately regretted it.

"Don't discard what I say just because of my age." Her eyes narrowed to green slits and Gigi took a confrontational step toward him. "You don't know what kind of circumstances I come from. All you know is that I'm 21...and you're going to let that number define who I am? I'm not 21, Jack. I'm Gigi. That's who I am. You should know better than to slap labels on people, but maybe you aren't as open-minded as I thought you were. Maybe what I feel about your situation with Erin is starry-eyed hope. I don't know if your ex-wife is likely to agree to a visit sometime soon. I don't know the woman...you do. I'm just trying to put a positive spin on your messed up predicament." She poked a stiff finger into his rocky chest. "But if my being optimistic comes across as childish to you, so be it." Gigi turned to walk away, her practical braid flung, nearly thumpingJack in the mouth.

"Gigi," his own dejection was forgotten. He hurt her feelings. "I didn't mean-"

"Yes, you did, Jack." She kept walking, "and it's all right. Everybody has idiosyncrasies. Yours happens to be the total dismissal of women under a certain age, while you'd trust these baby SEALs in combat, with your life. By the way," she glanced at him over her shoulder, "how's that working out for you?"

Jack was left speechless. Where did all that come from? And was she right? Damn, he didn't mean to dismiss Gigi's opinion because of her youth, although it did sound that way. He wasn't as open-minded as she thought? Slapping labels on people? Shit! He had been doing that to her. Jack tried to box her in as the 21 year-old girl so he didn't have to acknowledge Gigi, the woman. He would trust a fellow SEAL-any age-with his life, but had disregarded a terrific woman's genuine concern because she didn't have very much life experience. How was that working for him? Well, considering that Lynn and Teresa were 33 and 35, respectively and his relationships with them left much to be desired; and he had almost died during his last mission, alongside youthful teammates...Jack could honestly say, it wasn't working out worth a damn. And now, Gigi was pissed at him. That just took his day down another notch.
*********************************************
Before she could slam the door in his face, Jack lodged his boot against the frame. "Lynn...I'm sorry," he apologized simply. "I was out of line the other day...I'm sorry."

She stepped back and left the door open for him to enter. Lynelle stared at Jack like a petulant child. "You pushed me out of a fucking truck. That's more than out of line. I should go to the police." She spat.

Jack had to control his urge to laugh. The police? Yeah, right. And tell them what? I was being a bitch, so my boyfriend made me shut my fucking hole. "Don't do that. I was just tense...didn't want you saying those things around Erin." Jack explained as skillfully as he could. He wasn't going to end things with Lynelle on bad terms.

Suddenly, Lynn seemed more attentive. "Did your daughter enjoy her stay? Did you take her sightseeing?"

He shook his head, curious about her interest. "No...she couldn't make it."

"Geez, her mother must really hate you," the assessment was blunt. "Throw her out of a truck, too?" Her tone was mocking.

Jack smiled, dropped his head. Lynelle approached him, took his face in her hands and kissed him. Instinctively his arms went around her waist, his hands smoothing over her behind, pulling her against him. This wasn't what he came for. In fact, he was here to do just the opposite, but Lynelle was kissing him so sweetly and his body responded to what it knew hers could do. Jack really wanted to get laid, but even more, he did not want a repeat of the scene along the side of the road. If he continued to fall into Lynelle's bed...one day, he may just choke the shit out of her.

"We can't Lynn," Jack broke away, "not anymore."

She frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"This...between us," he gave her a knowing regard, "it's not something I want anymore. You and I have nothing in common except out sexual appetites."

"And the matter with that is...?"

"I like to interact peacefully with the women I sleep with. What happened the other day," Jack shook his head, "I won't ever do that again. If I stay with you, I know I will."

Lynelle realized that he was serious. "You almost kill me, then you come here to dump me!" She lashed out and slapped Jack across the face. He put a hand to his burning cheek, unfazed. "What, you're fucking somebody else now? I'm not good enough? After all the shit I let you do to me...all that kinky shit. Don't think some straightlaced broad is going to give you stellar rim jobs."

"I'm not seeing anyone else, Lynn...and I won't be seeing you anymore either." Jack's eyes were hard, told her not to even think of hitting him again, but his voice held a trace of sympathy. The two of them were a lot alike in all the ways people don't want to acknowledge themselves. When Jack walked out, the worst parting jibe Lynn gave was a deafening slam of the door. One apology down, one to go.
*********************************************
Jack was late; so late he missed the actual poetry slam. To his relief, there were still people in the open-air club, music being played, food and drinks being served. He scanned the dance floor and lounge for her, but nothing. Gigi was probably gone by now. She seemed to express more interest in the performances than what went on afterward.

"You look lost, handsome," a girlish voice came from behind Jack.

He rounded on a tall-almost as tall as himself-woman with a pretty smile and...wow! Jack had to use all of his self-control to look the woman in the eye. A quick glance down revealed a crevasse of cleavage any man would love to bury his face in and she know how to flaunt it, in a deep-cut blouse, no sign of a bra. "Ah, no. I'm actually looking for someone. Her name is Gigi. She's about five-three, long dark hair, green eyes..do you know her?"

The busty woman sighed, "are all the fine ones taken? Should have known. At least you were asking about a girl." She eyed Jack in his casual tailor-made suit. A big guy. The suit fit his muscular legs, big arms and wide shoulders well, his dress shirt was left open at the collar. Wasn't he a football player? "Be a shame if your were giving all that to another man."

Flattered...sort of, Jack smiled, "do you know Gigi?"

"Last I saw her, she was in the aquarium. Go down that hall," she pointed behind him, "takes you right in. But you know if things don't work out with Gigi ... just give old Sheila a holler."

"Thank you, Sheila," he laid the drawl down sexily, just for a little fun.