At first David thought the caller was a prankster, but the longer the conversation went on, the more he realized the anonymous person on the other end was clearly outraged, indignant, and was demanding that he take appropriate action. He listened as the husband continued to vent for several long minutes, feeling his disgust and temper rising by the second as he was forced to make the suitable “I’m-listening-to-every-word-you-say” responses. When he finally stopped talking, David said politely, “I want to assure you that I will be checking into this matter, sir. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.” He listened again as the man stated his reasons for remaining anonymous, and David replied with understanding, finally replacing the telephone receiver back on the base. If someone was mistreating his wife at work, he would complain too, but he had a hard time believing the things the man claimed.

He picked up the framed photo of his wife of six months from his desk and took a good, assessing look at the woman smiling back at him. There was no doubt about it. Cynthia Anderson Baker was a beautiful woman. He’d been immediately attracted to her when they chanced to meet in the cookbook section of their favorite bookstore in the Westbridge Mall. He’d admitted to being single after twenty-four years of marriage, and she’d sympathized with understanding, having lost her husband three years earlier to the same disease that claimed his Maggie’s life. Cynthia helped him pick out a Betty Crocker Cookbook designed for beginners, and then agreed to have a cup of coffee with him in the Mall’s food court. A few months later they were married.

David studied Cynthia’s smile, and found he had a hard time picturing those same sweet lips raging and using the language she’d been accused of using. True, most redheads were reputed to have a temper, but other than occasional, mild outbursts, he’d never witnessed his wife of six months in a full blown rage, and he simply found it hard to believe she’d slapped one of her employees. If she had, then he needed to deal with the matter immediately. The other man had told him in no uncertain terms how HE would handle the situation, and David was in total agreement. In the early years of his marriage to Maggie, he’d put his hand to her backside several times. It helped to make a point. But he’d never once considered spanking Cynthia. She was mature, and didn’t act like a brat… at least not when she was around him.

He calmly placed the photo back on his desk, and called his secretary into his office. He told her to cancel his appointments for the rest of the day, and then left. It was time to pay a surprise visit to Elegant Impressions and see just what the heck his new wife was up to!

The bell tinkled merrily as David let himself inside the front door of the spacious shop. Everything about Cynthia’s decorating business was elegant. The plush carpet was the very best, and the office looked more like a well decorated living room than a business. There were several areas, and clients were made to feel very welcome. Cynthia had freshly baked cookies and croissants delivered daily, and offered them on pretty china plates, and she served tea and coffee in the matching cups and saucers. The large room was kept immaculately clean, and the soft music in the background was very tasteful. Cynthia wanted her customers to be happy from the moment they walked in the door, to the moment the job was finished. She wanted word of mouth recommendations to their families and friends, and she made sure her employees knew to be courteous and polite at all times. She also took on smaller jobs that other decorators wouldn’t be bothered with, and made those clients feel just as important as the ones who were spending a lot of money. Cynthia started her business a couple of years before her first husband was diagnosed with lung cancer, and when he died, she threw herself into making Elegant Impressions successful. David was proud of her efforts, and until that telephone call earlier, he thought everything was going well. Now he didn’t know what to think.

He was promptly greeted by his wife’s secretary/receptionist, a young woman by the same of Trisha. “Hello, Mr. Baker. How are you today?” she flashed him a welcoming smile that was full of warmth and sunshine as she rose from behind her cherry roll top desk to greet him cordially.

“I’m fine, Trisha. Is my wife around?”

“No, she isn’t. In fact, she just left for an appointment. She didn’t mention anything about expecting you…” Trish said in confusion, her little face scrunching as she tried to remember.

Her overly-worried expression concerned David. Was his wife a completely different person at work? “No, Trish, Cynthia wasn’t expecting me. I thought I would drop by and surprise her. I’ll…” he was cut off as two other women entered the office from the supply room, obviously distraught and arguing the best way to deal with the situation. David held up a hand before Trish could warn them he was standing there, and he listened long enough to know his wife was in serious trouble. There was absolutely no way he was going to permit this sort of behavior out of a woman he loved.

“Ohhhhhh! Oh, Mr. Baker… We didn’t see you!” the older of the two spoke up, her cheeks a flaming red. “I’m so sorry!”

“So am I, sir. Things have just been stressful lately, and… Please, sir, don’t tell Mrs. Baker what I said about her!” she was openly crying. “I need this job so much!”

“No one is going to be fired,” David reassured them. “When did this happen, Gloria?” he asked calmly, but his tone of voice told the young woman he expected to be answered truthfully.

“Just this morning, Mr. Baker, but I don’t want to make a big deal of it…” she tearfully pleaded.

“It is a big deal. Cynthia might be the boss here, but she has no right to behave like a tyrant,” he borrowed the caller’s word for Cynthia. “I also learned that my wife slapped one of you yesterday…?” he questioned, and was quick to note the guarded expression on three faces. Not one of the women wanted to talk. He wondered at that. “I’m not here to make any of you uncomfortable… Please tell me what is going on… I only want to help.”

Trish finally spoke up. “It was me… and it was just so unlike Mrs. Baker… She apologized, and I don’t even have a bruise. See…?” she cocked her head to the side and stuck out her left cheek for his inspection. After she was satisfied David looked, Trish straightened up and asked, “Did Billy call you, Mr. Baker? I asked him not to do that! We need the income I earn here, and Mrs. Baker is good to me… She just was upset about something, and I interrupted her with a question, and she lost her temper. She’s never done that before, and she was upset… She apologized, and I told Billy not to make a fuss.”

“He wants to protect his wife, and I understand that concept completely,” David smiled. “I commend you for your loyalty, Trish. And, I thank you for telling me your version of what happened.” When she smiled, he asked, “What else has been going on? Who is Daniel? I haven’t heard Cynthia mention him before…?”

“He’s new, sir,” Gloria spoke up. “He’s helping us with the heavy work since Alan quit a couple weeks ago.”

“Alan quit?” David was surprised.

“He couldn’t take Mrs. Baker’s temper any more,” Abigail said quietly. “Ron quit, too. And so did Beverly.”

“Has Cynthia replaced them?”

“It’s hard to find people who live up to her expectations, Mr. Baker. And, while the pay is very good compared to some places, no one likes to work with someone who is angry half the time. It’s unsettling. I would have left, too, but I make good money here, and I have two kids in college I have to support. I can’t afford to leave and take a pay cut.”

“How long has my wife been acting like a tyrant?” David asked, his temper growing by the moment.

“For about a year…” Trish replied. “At first, it wasn’t often, but now there is a scene of some kind almost every day.” She took a deep breath and said, “I really like her, Mr. Baker. She’s the kindest person in the world… unless she loses her temper… and then she’s awful. But, please, don’t be mad at her… We really do care about her… That’s why we stay,” she insisted, tears in her blue eyes.

“I appreciate the fact that you were all honest with me,” David said humbly. “I do have one favor to ask of all of you…”

“Anything at all!” Trisha replied, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

“Don’t tell my wife I was here today.”

They looked at each other and Gloria said matter-of-factly, “We would rather Mrs. Baker not know that we tattled on her. She truly is a wonderful woman… and we just can’t understand why she is so upset all the time. We have more business than we can handle… We’ve wondered if…” she suddenly broke off as she realized what she was about to say.

“You wondered if she was having problems at home,” David finished for her, smiling sadly.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Baker! That was out of line!”

“No, it’s the truth,” Abigail spoke up. “We HAVE been wondering if there were problems at home.”

“There aren’t any that I am aware of, ladies,” David replied honestly. “I have no clue what is going on with Cynthia, but I promise you that my wife is going to be easier to work for in the future.” That said, he turned and headed for the door. He was going to go home and think about the situation and come up with a way to approach Cynthia and find out what the hell was bothering her.

~~0~~

Cynthia parked her car in the garage and shut off the motor. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. She pasted a determined smile on her face, climbed out of the car, and walked over to the door to the laundry room and pushed the button to lower the garage door. She wasn’t used to David getting home before she did, and she wouldn’t have the normal hour or two to put on her ‘home’ personality before facing him.

When she opened the door she was startled to smell something delicious. David didn’t cook often, but when he did, the food was always wonderful. Yes, he was in the kitchen, and dressed in jeans and a tee shirt. It was the way he dressed after work, so he wasn’t planning to go back out … “Hey there… What are you doing home so early?” she asked with a smile as she walked over to give him a kiss.

David smiled at her, and returned her kiss, and gave her a big hug, too. “I took the afternoon off,” he explained. “Go shower and change into something comfortable. I want us to have some quiet time together tonight.”

“I have a couple of estimates to prepare, David…” she smiled ruefully.

“Not tonight, hon. We need to have a talk, and we aren’t going to rush it. I want you to get comfortable, and we’ll have an early dinner, and have the rest of the evening for us.” David wasn’t going to be put off.

“I am sorry, dear,” Cynthia said firmly, “But I promised I would have estimates for these jobs tomorrow. That means researching and comparing, and pulling together the best prices I can so that Elegantly Yours is awarded the jobs. These are not simple one room deals, but major redecorating projects… I must get them done.”

“Cynthia, I am not going to argue with you over this. The estimates can wait until tomorrow morning.”

“I have appointments in the morning.”

“Trish can reschedule them, or Abigail and Gloria can go in your place,” David was growing impatient. “I am beginning to think you don’t want to talk to me, Cynthia.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cynthia was struggling with her temper, and fought to be pleasant. “If it means so much to you, then I will manage somehow,” she said, then added, “I’ll go and shower and change. Dinner smells lovely.”

“Don’t take too long. The chicken comes out of the oven in twenty minutes.” David watched her stiffen, and it was obvious she was angry, but her meek ‘I’ll hurry’ did not match her body language at all. He smiled grimly and wondered why she was pretending with him.

And, most of all, he wondered WHY he hadn’t noticed before? Maggie was certainly never quiet about voicing her upset with him. David smiled as he remembered one of her famous temper tantrums:

“For goodness sake, David Baker, must you get crumbs all over the kitchen EVERY time you get a snack!”

“I’ll clean it up, Mags,” he offered, wondering why she was so upset over a few bread crumbs.

“You bet you’ll clean it up! I work hard enough to keep this house clean! You do this every damn time!”

“Okay, Maggie, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“We are talking about YOU,” she quickly retorted. “You are not perfect!”

“I never claimed to be perfect,” he looked at her in shock.

“Oh, yes you do! All the time. You get this smug look on your face, and you say, ‘Margaret Jean, this is NOT rocket science!’ You know you do it ALL the time!” she was on a tear.

“What did you do now, Maggie?” he asked, dreading the answer. Maggie was famous for taking a strip off HIS hide just before he took a strip off of hers, literally!

“Oh, right! Now I am in trouble! Well, if you are so smart, Mr. Perfect, you just figure it out for yourself!” Maggie stomped outside and when he looked out the kitchen window, she was on her hands and knees in her garden, pulling weeds. Her ample bottom was sticking up in the air, and David was fairly positive he was going to have that bottom over his knee before the night was over.

He went into the den and turned on his computer, and picked up the stack of mail lying there. It took him all of five seconds to get to the one on the bottom of the pile, and he was on his feet and marching through the house in less than one minute after sitting down.

“Unless you want me to bare your butt and spank you out here for all the neighbors to see, woman, you will march yourself inside and into the den right now!” He kept his voice down, but Maggie looked around to see if any of the neighbors overheard. “NOW!” He could see that she’d been crying, but he had absolutely no sympathy for her at all.

“I can explain, David!” she promised, practically running across the yard to get inside.

“Oh, I’m SURE you have some harebrained explanation, Maggie!” he concurred.

“You are being mean,” she pouted.

“I’m angry, Maggie. How do you constantly overdraw the checking account?”

“It’s the bank’s fault. They weren’t supposed to send that last check through until tomorrow,” she explained. “I have NO idea how it got there so quickly! I just wrote it on Monday… and it’s just Thursday, and the bank got it YESTERDAY! Why, how could that happen so quickly? I thought that even if it hit the bank today, it would be taken care of with the automatic deposit tonight, and there wouldn’t be a charge!”

“The point is, Margaret Jean, you wrote a check, knowing full well there wasn’t enough money in the account to cover it… Is that correct?”

“Well, yes… I guess… but I knew it would be in the account tomorrow,” she stated. “The bank shouldn’t have received it until at least tomorrow. It is not my fault that they got it sooner.”

“How many times must I tell you that you are NOT to write checks unless there is money in the account to cover them. That is a simple concept, Maggie. What was so damned important that you had to overdraw the account?”

“You’ll just get mad,” she warned.

“Oh brother…”

“See? There you go already… Mr. Perfect! It’s all YOUR fault, you know! If you weren’t so damn perfect and handsome and thin, this wouldn’t have happened! I’m always trying to look better for you, and I saw this thing when I was out shopping Monday to help me lose weight, and I bought it…”

“Not another exercise device that is going to melt off pounds instantly, Mags?” David groaned. “You already own a million of them!”

“I do not!”

“How many of them do you use?” David demanded.

“I’ll use this one, I promise!”

“You bet you will; I’m going to see to it. And, I’m going to see to it that you don’t write any more bad checks for a long while.”

“David!” Maggie backed away from him.

“Come here, Margaret Jean. You have a spanking coming to you, and you’re going to get one to remember.”

Maggie reluctantly walked over to where he stood, and he pulled down her shorts, and then her panties. He gave her ass a hard slap and sent her straight to the corner. After several long boring minutes he called her back and had her bend over his desk, and he used his ruler on her until she was pleading for mercy.

It was the last check his Maggie ever bounced, and she never did lose those extra pounds that bothered her so much… at least not until that damn cancer invaded her body…

David shook his head to clear it, and busied himself with finishing dinner. Somehow he had a feeling that Cynthia’s problem was a bit more complicated than writing a bad check… but unless she had one hell of a good excuse for her behavior with her employees, she was going to get a damn good spanking!