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Carter
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Tuesday afternoon, I’m knee-deep in a pile of invoices that need to be signed when my phone rings with an unknown number.
“Carter Lockwood,” I answer.
“This is a call from an inmate at the Colorado State Correctional Institution. If you—” I cut off the robotic voice and hit 1 on my keypad.
“Hi, Eric. What’s up?”
“I have super good news. Taryn isn’t in there by chance, is she?” he asks.
“No, but I can get her. Hold on.” I use the instant messenger feature on the computer like I have before to send her an IM: Get into my office stat. Eric’s on the phone.
“I just sent for her. Hopefully she hurries her butt along, I know you only have a few minutes.”
“Yeah, I’m on my lunch break actually,” he says.
“What part of the prison do you work in again?” I ask.
“Laundry,” he replies. “We get thirty minutes to eat in the mess hall but I thought I’d call you instead. It’ll be easier to tell the both of you at once instead of waiting for a phone after work when all the dudes are on the phones. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” he says.
“Nah, I’m always busy but it’s all good. I hope you didn’t skip a meal for this,” I say.
“I have commissary food in my locker. I’ll eat a beef stick and some crackers before I head back into laundry,” he tells me.
Just then, my door opens and Taryn walks in. “There she is,” I announce.
“Hi, sis,” Eric says through speakerphone.
“Hey, bro! This is a nice surprise. How are you?”
“I’m great,” he answers. “I have good news.”
“Spill!” Taryn squeals, looking at me excitedly.
“Well, instead of March, I’m getting out in November. I’ll be home for the holidays!” he announces, sounding so fucking happy.
“Oh, my God!” Taryn says, her eyes filling with tears. “That’s so great, Eric!”
“Yeah, man. I’m happy for you. We’ll definitely be celebrating.”
“How did this happen?” Taryn asks, taking a tissue from the box I offer her.
“My caseworker looked at my file and stated since I’ve had no incident reports, good behavior, have held down jobs since I’ve been here, and that I also have a clean release plan with a home and a job, that I had extra good conduct time. She recalculated it for me, which shaved like 122 days off my sentence.”
“That’s amazing. Tell her thank you for us, will you?” Taryn says.
I realize she said us, as if she was speaking for both of us (and she was) but I hope Eric doesn’t catch it.
“I definitely will.”
He pulls the phone away as he listens to something being announced over the intercom.
“Hey, I gotta go back to work, but... Carter?”
“Yes,” I answer.
“You good if I start my new job in January so I can get acclimated and get stuff situated? I’m sure my mom’s place needs to be cleaned out and I’ll need to get a car and new clothes and stuff.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever you need. As long as the parole officer is okay with it. If not, we’ll just start you on the books and I’ll let them know you work here,” I say.
“Man, that would be amazing, thank you.” He pauses. “Thank you both. See you in four months!”
The phone beeps its one-minute warning and he says, “Bye!”
I end the call and look at my beautiful girlfriend. “I guess it’s time we talk about it.”
“Talk about what?” she asks.
“Well, unless you’re planning to break up with me, we have to tell him about us, love.”
She bites her lip. “I know. I don’t think he’s going to be very happy.”
I shake my head. “I don’t fucking care what he thinks.”
“Well, I do. And I know you do, too, no matter what you say,” she says from where she’d perched her ass on the edge of my desk.
I blow out a breath. “Okay, you’re right. I do care. But, Taryn, us telling him is a courtesy. It’s not a request for permission. I hope he’ll understand that.”
“I just think it’s best we wait until he’s out and settled. I’m reading a book right now about how to handle someone who’s just been released from prison. They need time to acclimate. Going from being told what to do, when to do it, and how... what to eat and when... where to be certain times of the day... it’s overwhelming to go from that to having a lot of freedom.”
“But he’d already had that freedom before he went in. It’s only been five-plus years.”
Taryn folds her hands in her lap. “Look at it this way. When Eric went in, we had a different president. The economy was different. There wasn’t a global pandemic that fundamentally changed how people do things. The price of housing and food wasn’t so high. Things are different now despite how we think they aren’t. He’ll need time.”
I look into her beautiful whiskey-colored eyes. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”
She gets up, comes around my desk, and leans down to give me a peck on the mouth. “I’m always right.”
Chuckling, I smack her ass over her tight gray skirt and watch appreciatively as she saunters out of my office.
***
“I got a problem I’m hoping you can help me with or else we’ll both be out an assload of money,” Jim Shaffer says over the phone. I hadn’t been expecting to hear from him for a couple of weeks, so when I saw him calling, I was surprised.
Alarmed, I reply, “Okay? What is it?”
“Well, we have a bit of a political scandal in the making on our hands. Apparently, Congresswoman Fisher received a video of her husband with one of the, uh, girls in the Mile High Rooms.”
I scrub a hand through my hair. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No, I wish I was,” Jim Shaffer replies. “It’s in the rules. No video, right?”
“Of course. It’s the terms of agreement they checkmark when they download and pay for the app. Then, it’s in the contract they sign electronically. It’s also reiterated in the text they receive. And you put signs on the damn walls. But you can’t control what people do in the private rooms. There are no cameras for legal reasons, so if people are whipping out their phones and filming, there’s nothing we can do. At least they’re asked to leave them behind in the viewing rooms, but who knows if they truly do.”
He sighs. “Maybe we should make people leave just their phones in the car.”
“That won’t work. If people only need a password to enter, they’ll share it with others and we won’t be able to control how many people we’re expecting, and also devalues the app itself. Not to mention they could just hide the phone in their pockets. It’s not like we search the guests or have metal detectors.”
“Well, we might have to. The congresswoman is out for blood. She was told the woman in the video is a sex worker at an exclusive club here in the Denver area and now she’s demanding we be shut down. Threatening to get the authorities involved since prostitution is illegal in Colorado,” Jim says, sounding exhausted.
I lean back in my chair. “Do you have an attorney? You might need one, Jim. You’ll have to maintain you didn’t know the sex workers were in there, but if they come forward and show receipts...” I trail off.
Jim has known from day one that he can’t have sex workers in the club. It’s all supposed to be a mutual consent thing with no money exchanged, only a cover charge at the door. But I found out he “incentivizes” men and women to be there, and are getting paid.
“Yeah, I know,” he replies. “Can you send a mass text out reminding all the users that there is to be no video or audio recording done, and if they are found to have done so, their privileges will be revoked indefinitely?”
“Sure, yeah, I’ll do that as soon as we hang up. Anything else I should do?” I ask.
“Yes, in a couple of weeks, send out another mass text that there will be no club this month due to a breach in security and trust... something like that. I trust you to word it diplomatically but really drive home the point that leaked video footage has caused this without coming right out and saying that,” he replies.
I nod. “I definitely will. I got you covered.”
“Oh, and reiterate no refunds. Hopefully we’ll just have to let this blow over and not have the club for a month. Otherwise, I may be faced with paying out some hush money to this congresswoman. Gotta do my research on her first, see if that will even work or if it’ll dig my ass into a deeper hole.”
“I would definitely consult an attorney on that,” I advise.
“I’ve already got a call in to him. Thanks for helping me out, and I’m sorry about all this. Like I said, let’s hope it just blows over,” he says.
“I hope so. Talk to you later,” I say and hang up after he grunts a goodbye.
Well, shit. Is this the end of the club? I had only been a couple of times, but I’m not worried about it for my dick’s sake. I’m concerned about it for my bottom line and the financial health of my company. I make enough in creating and selling apps of other kinds, but that one is definitely my bread and butter.
“Fuck,” I mutter, opening up the secret program and pulling up the prompt to send out a reminder text to all 1,090 users about video and audio being forbidden.
After that’s sent out, I download patches to put on my personal computer so nobody like sneaky little Taryn can hack in and gain access to the program I use for this app. While I’m still pissed at her for it, I’m more pissed off at myself. I thought this shit was locked down tight, not to mention I should have done it sooner. Though, I don’t anticipate anyone else trying to do this, I still need to get the computer and the program itself secured and hidden better.