“I do run a security business, Miss Davenport. Security and safety are kind of my thing.”
“Owning a business, though, involves risk, doesn’t it?”
“I try to minimize the risk for myself in the same way I try to minimize risk for my clients.”
“So, you like to take calculated risks?” I asked. Our exchange came rapid fire, like a tennis match.
“Yes. That is a fair assessment.”
“You like to be in control?”
“Don’t you?” His jaw tightened.
“Some things we can’t control.”
“I will always try to control as much as I can and minimize the risk of things I can’t.”
“Can you control yourself when it comes to sex?” I felt like I was reaching my point. It had taken a while.
“Yes,” he answered without hesitation.
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow. “Your wife tried to set the mood for a romantic evening and you couldn’t get an erection. Is that control?”
“Is this your normal therapy technique, Miss Davenport?” I could see the bulge of his jaw muscles.
“And yet, when you were in a gentleman’s club, in the private room, you had no problem getting an erection with a complete stranger.” My question seemed unorthodox and out of line, even for me, but I intuitively felt like this was the right question to ask. This was the contradiction he faced physically for sure, if not emotionally as well. The question had to be asked. And answered.
“Yes. That is true. In my defense, you’re a very attractive woman,” he said, sounding like faraway thunder.
I could sense a slight drop in his shoulders. I made more notes.
“But your wife is attractive? A trophy wife you said.”
“Yes. She is.”
“So, have you had difficulty getting or maintaining an erection with any other woman besides your wife?”
“No.”
“Are you not physically attracted to your wife anymore?”
“She’s fit. Physically attractive. Active. Beautiful. A nympho. I still feel physically attracted to her.” I could see he actually had thought about the question before and while he was answering he seemed to check off items on a list.
“How about mentally? Are you mentally attracted?”
“At first, I was enchanted with her. She was always the life of a party, fluttering around like a social butterfly. She could talk about anything and to anyone. Eventually, though, I discovered she lacked a lot of depth. Her primary concern was always herself. I invested in her modeling career, her acting career, and her makeup line. After the makeup line failed and her acting career never took off, she changed.”
“How did she change?”
“She started bringing in other people who had business propositions that couldn’t fail. A clothing line. Multiple movie scripts. A movie production starring her, financed by me. Another natural woman’s care beauty line.”
“And how did that make you feel?” The classic therapist line. I didn’t like using it, but I was forming a theory.
“At first I was supportive, but my caution turned into skepticism. Each of the opportunities just seemed off to me. All of them seemed risky and the guys that brought the ideas to me werefriendsfrom her social circle.”
“Guy friends?”
“Yes. She would spend weekends with them, either in the LA area or Vegas. She loves Vegas. Ah, yes, that was another idea of hers. She wanted me to finance a dancing act on the strip at the MGM.”
