Cheating on the Brain My eyes opened and focused on the alarm clock sitting on my nightstand. 6:27am for the third morning in a row. The internal clock within the human brain was just another of its amazing apps included with the basic operating system we call life. I reached over and turned off the alarm before it hit 6:30 and had it shatter my morning with its jarring noise from hell. I sat up and placed my feet on the floor in search of my slippers which should be right where I now had my feet.
Not finding them, I got down on my knees to look for the slippers before remembering I took them off last night while watching television. I was getting ready to get back up when I noticed something white on the floor between the nightstand and the bed. Shit, it was one of those damned balloons from my birthday party last month. I had found several of them scattered around the week after the party, so I reached over and grabbed this one as well.
It was wet and sticky and I realized it wasn't a balloon. What I had in my hand was something I had not used in more than four years since I met Cindy and before that, they were only used to prevent STDs. Due to a severe case of childhood mumps, my little swimmers could barely float and certainly couldn't swim. I rose up to peer across the bed at my lovely wife of three years and thought "Cindy, you got a lot of splainin' to do." I then rushed as quietly as possible out the bedroom door and down the stairs to the guest bath off the family room and preceded to empty my stomach of everything I had ever eaten.
I sat on the bathroom floor for the next two days (probably more like ten minutes) and cried for the first time since that morning five years ago when my parents went down in dad's Cessna. In my mind there was no other explanation for this recently used condom to be under my bed except for a massive betrayal by someone that held my heart in her hands. This was just such a shock since I had no idea anything was wrong with what I had thought to be a perfect life.
A beautiful wife, a job I absolutely loved, a home that most would kill for, money in the bank plus a healthy retirement account and last but not least, my full race tricked out 1990 Miata. Not a Vette or a Mustang, but give me the Mazda and a curvy mountain road and you couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I guess the thought of another man fucking Cindy might just cure that smile problem for some time to come.
I went into the kitchen and put the evidence (now, I'm a CSI tech wanna be) in a plastic sandwich bag. I had to get away to think before I did something really stupid, so I washed up in the sink the best I could, snuck upstairs and got my clothes and left like a thief in the night. I thought about stopping at IHOP for breakfast, but decided the old stomach didn't need an excuse to do its best to permanently stain my leather seats.
I decided the best place for me to be right now was the workplace, so my little red zoom-zoom and I took the back roads to the Store.
Now, I better take the time to fill you in on a few things about myself. My name is James Nesbit, Jim to just about everyone, thirty years old, five foot ten, 170 lbs of mostly lean muscle and I am a genius.
Not Einstein smart, smarter. I entered college to pursue a business degree which I figured would lead to untold wealth due to superior mental abilities. I imagined within a few years I should be the King of Wall Street or at the least, a Crown Prince.
Well, things were going full speed ahead and I even found some of my arrogant professors seeking me out for my opinions on upcoming changes in the business climate.
About the start of my junior year I discovered an online puzzle site that was different from others I'd played with before. The answers were not immediately apparent and I actually had to spend time thinking about the possibilities before typing in the solutions.
This was a site that required a log in with a user name and my e-mail address with the idea that as I solved puzzles, more difficult challenges would be forthcoming. The puzzles got harder and then a great deal harder, but never beyond my ability to find solutions.
I'm not sure the solutions I found were always what was expected, but I kept getting e-mails telling me that new puzzles awaited me. April of that year, I was coming out of a class when I was stopped by a man in a suit that asked me if I was James Nesbit. When I said yes, he stated he had something to discuss with me and could he buy me a cup of coffee. I was curious and since I didn't have any place urgent to be, I accepted.
We walked over to the student union, got our coffee and a sweet roll for me and found a table in the corner as far from others as possible.
He was from the puzzle site, well actually he was with the government and his agency had developed the site. "Mr. Nesbit, my name is Bill Smith and I want to talk with you about your future. We have been using the puzzle site for two years looking for someone with a certain skill set we need. Up to now, of the more than 300,000 individuals that have visited our site, you have surpassed everyone else by a factor of four.
We have given you puzzles that we felt had no solution and yet you showed us we were wrong. We have a position for you if you're interested." "I sometimes had a feeling many of the puzzles did not lend themselves to a single solution, but found the challenge helpful in keeping my mind occupied what with the somewhat mundane nature of my university studies.
And besides, I'm not looking for a job right now and I certainly have no desire to work for some government agency all my life. Hell, I still have three years to get my MBA," I replied.
"We've done an extensive amount of background on you going from childhood to what you had for dinner last night and after talking to everyone concerned, we feel you should be teaching here, instead of attending as an undergraduate. We could arrange to have your MBA a reality in weeks instead of years. Write a fifty page thesis with your views on the coming world economic conditions and within a week, you'll have your MBA." As I almost swallowed my tongue, he went on "Jim-may I call you that?
This is not just any old government job. You would be in a position to truly help your country survive the threats coming from all over the world and maybe even save the entire world from its own insanity. The compensation would be roughly three times what you would start out in any job on Wall Street and we would pay any debt you have incurred with attaining your education.
This is not a job we advertise in the help wanted ads, it's a job being created for one very unique individual. You are the only job applicant and we're willing to do just about anything it takes to make you happy. Please step up and as they say, come to the aid of your country." Well, that's about how it actually happened. I wrote my thesis on economic destabilization of Europe and its effects on the world in four days and a week later, to the day, I went to the University president's office and received my degree.
I figured it would be better spending the next three years earning money than listening to a bunch of lame assed professors who had no idea how things worked in the real world. The job itself is really quite fascinating and pretty simple. They pay me to think. I look at all available data and look for ways to best serve America's interests both at home and abroad.
I have several rooms including a gym, a shower and a whirlpool bath. It's an office with a very comfortable couch and a workspace with numerous computer terminals, blackboards, several TV monitors and a dynamite sound system.
I'm given anything I want and after six years, I am pretty well set for life financially. Best thing of all, I absolutely love what I do. Sometimes I have to make some fairly grisly suggestions based on the best data available.
However, I've come to the conclusion that this is an even grislier world than what was faced by past generations. Of course, with any job like this, you need to sign about a million documents including one about your first born, if I remember correctly.
Pretty much comes down to if I say one word about what I do, they have the right to stick me face first into an old well and Lassie ain't bringing Timmy to haul my ass out. The complex I work in has several other active projects, all of which I am totally clueless about. I casually know and have meals with some of the other workers in the complex, but discussions are more about sports, books and movies.
We do not discuss world events, politics or what our work consists of. Those are the rules if you work at the Store. Problem with this store is we are ten stories below ground and customers might have a tough time getting past the heavily armed young men who occupy the ground floor. Back to me and my beloved Miata. I arrived at the front gate, slid my pass into the slot and waited for the gate to open. I then drove toward the main building and entered through an overhead door that opened as I approached the building and parked in the clearly marked space.
I lowered the passenger window, took my keys from the ignition with my right hand and put both hands on the door. The security officer opened my door, watched me get out of the car, took my keys which he flipped to his partner and started the pat down and wand sweep of my body.
Nothing was said as the second man searched my car while floor scanners confirmed I wasn't driving a rolling bomb.
This was an everyday procedure and in six years I had no idea if any of these men had a falsetto voice or a southern drawl.
It was exactly the same procedure with the exception that I occasionally had to wait outside the door while another car was being processed. I was handed back my keys and headed over to the elevator, stepped in and felt my feet nearly lift from the floor as it dropped like a lead weight. When the door opened, I walked down the corridor thirty two paces, turned right for another twenty four paces, keyed my door and entered my home away from home.
With what I learned this morning, maybe this was my only home. I didn't have a secretary or assistant, or a reason for either.
A maid came when I called and only when I was present. She was the only one that really ever came into my suite unless I requested something special be installed or there was a problem with a computer terminal. This all might seem a bit strange to someone who works in an office filled with co-workers, but I was actually quite contend to be on my own.
I did need to talk with someone or teleconference with groups occasionally, but the vast majority of the time I spent alone. The workout room was used almost daily while I sought out solutions to the problems thrown at me daily by the endless flow of facts, figures and speculations sent to me via my terminal. Today might be a little different than most, but I still went through the process of making coffee and then slipping into the shower and putting on my uniform consisting of jeans and a t-shirt (today it was a Redskins football design) Is it important to know what shirt he's wearing?.
As soon as I was dressed in my proper work attire, I reached for the phone and called Bill Lane, the Store chief of security and my best work friend. Bill and I had actually played golf together a number of times although naturally, he had never meet Cindy or any of our friends. That just wasn't done when you work at the Store. Bill answered on the second ring, "Bill Lane." "Hi Bill, this is Jim Nesbit and I need to see you—today would be best" I said.
Bill knew me well enough to know when I said today, it was important. "Come on over. I'll clear the deck." I hung up the phone, walked over and retrieved my "evidence" baggie and headed over to Bill's office. I got to his door, pressed the buzzer and a few seconds later I heard the click that permitted me entrance.
Bill stood at the entrance to his office and motioned me to come inside. I looked for his secretary, Maggie, but she wasn't at her desk. Seeing Maggie's smile was probably the single greatest thing that ever happened to a man down here in our dungeon. She always had a kind word for everyone she interacted with and like almost everyone at the Store, I was in love with Maggie. We did all have to stand in line behind her husband, four children and seven grandchildren.
I took a seat across from Bill, placed the baggie on his desk. "I'm pretty sure Cindy has found someone to share her days with." Bill took a look at the condom and then back at me "Shit! I'm sorry Jim, it happens in the best of families. When did you find this and does she know you suspect something isn't right in the Land of Oz?" "I found it while getting out of bed this morning and got away before I had to face her.
I'm not prone to violence, but this is the woman I have loved and trusted with my life and she goes and shits all over everything. I just don't think I can ever face her again." "Jim, that boat just ain't gonna float. You must realize this is national security and this will require big time surveillance and investigation. If someone is sniffing around your wife, it could be you are the target and we just can't allow that to happen.
You better bone up on your acting abilities this afternoon, cause you're going home and make nice with wifey until we can set something up." I just looked at him. "What if she expects sex?
There's no way I'm getting it up for a whore." "Just go back and make busy in your office. I'll get back with you as soon as my little gray cells come up with something. In the meantime, think Academy Award performance." I headed back over to my suite (never really thought of it as just an office) and hit the gym to try to work off the nerves.
Well, that didn't work, so I figured the whirlpool was worth a shot. Bingo! After an hour's nap on the couch, I actually was able to do some work until Bill called about four and told me he was ready for me.
When I got to his office, he was standing at the door waiting for me and was soon introducing me to a Doctor Watson. While I looked around for Sherlock, the doctor told me to drop my pants while he got a needle ready and I asked "What's that for, doc?" He smiled and said "Son, you're getting ready to pull your groin and it will be the least painful injury you've ever experienced.
The needle will give you more pain than anything, but your skin will show yellow and blue streaks for the next few days and if you use that cane sitting next to the desk and walk with a bit of a limp, no one will have any doubt that you are in a world of hurt." He gave me the shot, packed his bag and Bill walked him out. I was getting my pants back in place when he came back and started in on me.
"Here's the plan, Stan. You fell down some stairs and sex is definitely out. If she wants to snuggle, just groan and wince in pain. Thursday night you're going out to the emergency room to get pain medication and taking Cindy with you. You will be there three hours while we wire the old homestead. Saturday morning you will be flying out to San Francisco to attend a weeklong Team Management Workshop.
If she asks why you're leaving Saturday, tell her you're meeting with other Quill Corp managers on Sunday. Can you get through the next three nights?" Yeah, I worked for a dummy corporation that provides software solutions for major corporations as well as a great number of government agency where everything had to be kept hush, hush.
"What will I really be doing in San Francisco since my only management experience has been paying the boy who cuts my yard?" Bill smiled. "Ever seen the Golden Gate Bridge?" I went back and sat down at my desk and called home to let Cindy know about my minor injury and that I would be a little late. Luckily she was out and I left a message on the machine.
I was actually able to get some work done over the next few hours and when I changed clothes to head home, I was amazed at how truly injured the leg looked. I practiced a few times with the cane and just hoped she would buy this.
I headed home in zoom-zoom and prepared my game face for what I had to do. I was somewhat over the anger I had felt this morning, but walking around without your heart is the most difficult thing I've ever had to do. Since I knew the when and where, I had concentrated on the who and the why most of the day. Then, it dawned on me that it really didn't matter who her partner was, she had agreed to engage sexually with someone other than me.
I rejected the idea that it was because I was a poor husband and lover. Every day and in every way I treated Cindy with all the love and respect a man could provide his princess. No, this was on Cindy and while I had always known she was a tad selfish, I had never thought of her as childish and stupid besides. I also wondered how I missed the signs, but I just don't think there were any signs.
We laughed and cuddled on the couch at night, made love at least three times a week and even held hands when we went shopping together. None of this mattered when I found that condom and knew that she had so little respect for me that she allowed another man to possess what was promised to be mine alone.
I arrived home a little after seven and as the garage door went up, I saw her Mercedes parked in its usual space and I parked next to it. I grabbed the cane and started into the house placing my hand on the hood of her car as I walked by. . it was still quite warm. As I stepped through the door, I could see Cindy with a glass of wine sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter.
She turned as I came through the laundry room. "Oh, honey, how's the leg?" "Hi babe, it's more of a groin pull and while it hurts like crazy, I'll probably be fine in a few days. I didn't even bother seeing a doctor. I deserve this for being so stupid to turn back to talk with someone while walking down stairs.
What a putz!" I said as I relied on the cane to get me to the kitchen. She jumped off the stool and started easing me into the family room and on to the couch. "You make yourself comfortable while I go get your pajamas." She headed up the stairs to the bedroom while I settled into the couch. "Where were you when I called this afternoon?" I asked. She didn't answer until she was coming back down with the PJs.
"I was at the mall and must have just missed your call. I got home a little after five." It looks like old blind in love fool has been missing a lot of warning signs because that car had been driven within the last twenty or thirty minutes. Feeling I better get to it, I said, "To screw up my day even more, the boss told me I'm going to San Francisco Saturday morning for an all week team management seminar.
I need that like I need a hole in the head. Some mind game playing dork trying to get people with half my IQ trained to help me make complex business decisions. This will certainly be fun." "Well, I'm sure something good will come from this. Even the great James Nesbit can learn something new." Since I had never had to travel in my job and had never spent a night separated from her since our wedding, I had expected, if nothing else, a bit of reluctance. Nothing, nada, zero is what I got.
She did help me out of my clothes and seemed concerned over the bright yellow and blue splotches on my leg. I even yelped when she put her hand on the seemingly damaged groin area. Maybe DeNiro was way overpaid if I could deceive someone this easily. I put so much into the part I was able to put my anger and sadness aside and I'm positive Cindy had no idea what I'd discovered.
Get through these next few days and I would mentally process this entire mess in a San Francisco hotel room. I got through the evening and ended up sleeping on the couch because of the pain climbing up the stairs would have caused me. I woke up the next morning to a quiet house, washed up and attended to my grooming with the items Cindy had brought down from upstairs.
I then dressed in the clothes she had placed on a chair last night, climbed into the Miata gingerly (couldn't take any chances of anyone seeing something amiss) and left for the Store. I actually got a lot of work done on some almost impossible situations that were affecting Europe on an increasingly more frequent basis.
I often felt like the little Dutch boy with my finger in the dyke and the holes are increasing in size. There will come a time when man's stupidity and greed will cause the dyke to collapse even with the efforts of people like myself that I assume are scattered all over the world.
Bill called around 2:00pm and informed me I was going to feel pain starting around 6:30pm and be over at the emergency room around 7:00pm. The doctors would have me out the door with sugar pills by 9:30pm. Dang if all didn't go exactly as planned. Cindy got upset that I just couldn't waltz in and be treated immediately because I was in such pain, but I explained to her that old saw "if it bleeds, it leads." We got home a little after 10:00pm and I was already feeling so much better with those remarkable pills.
I told her I would hold off taking one until I was safely at work the next day because I didn't want to take something so strong and try to drive.
After I arrived at work the next day, I decided to forego the pain pills and opted for a jelly donut. I can't tell you how much better that donut made me feel. When I picked up my ticket and hotel confirmation, Maggie was there and she knew, hell, if you couldn't trust Maggie, we might as well shut the doors and turn out the lights.
Pulling me into a hug, she said "Jim Boy, I'm so sorry for you. I can't even imagine the pain you must feel from such a betrayal and I thank God my Roy has never given me one second of doubt in 42 years of marriage.
Is there anything I can do for you?" Maggie felt good, like home or mom. "Mag, it hurts more than a root canal and in time I will grieve, but right now I've got to be a cold, uncaring bastard and get through this." "So, you're just going to be your normal self, huh?" she joked. I gave her a kiss on the cheek and left with the ticket and confirmation and headed home.
Friday night the pain was getting better thanks to the sugar pills, but I thought better of attempting the arduous climb up the stairs and even had to turn down Cindy's offer to cuddle because I was still feeling a little too much pain. I had never really thought I had the bullshit gene in my DNA, but it was there alright. I do remember hearing about a cousin on my mother's side that got in trouble selling phony stocks or something along those lines. Never heard of anyone in the family that was blazingly brilliant, but who knows if I went back far enough I would find an Albert Einstein Nesbit.
Cindy woke me at 6:00am with coffee and a kiss and while I got ready, she brought my suitcase downstairs and after putting my razor and a few items in the travel kit, she rolled it out to her car. I drove the Mercedes when we traveled or went out to eat, but it was her car. I had wanted one of those slick Mazda SUVs, but that dog just didn't hunt and she thought the Mercedes was keeping more with our station in life.
It didn't really matter that much to me as we had the money to afford either car and as long as I had the Miata, all was good in the world. We got to the airport slightly after 7:45am for my 9:10am flight. We checked in my bag and headed over for the security line. Cindy said, "Honey, I will miss you and I want you to be a good boy while you're away. I love you with all of my heart and I will be counting the moments till you return.
I want you to call me every day and tell me what you're learning and especially how much you miss me." With everything that was going through my mind, all I could think to say was something lame. "Cindy, I will miss you." I kissed her and felt I had told her the absolute truth and she didn't even seem to notice I hadn't added that I loved her. I got in line for security and lifted my cane towards her in a last gesture of goodbye. Before heading to my terminal, I did manage to forget the cane at one of the shops and picked up a newspaper and a car magazine I didn't subscribe to.
My ticket did not call for first class, but business class would at least assure me of arriving with both legs intact. San Francisco was still the same as my last visit. It's overcrowded with people everywhere, too much traffic, overpriced and some of the rudest service personnel this side of Paris. I went out to dinner Saturday night and then didn't leave the hotel Sunday choosing to drink beer and watch a couple of football games.
I did call Cindy both nights and between the two calls, I think we spent less than fifteen minutes talking. A little after eight on Monday morning I got a call from Bill "Jim, I'm sorry to tell you the results of your tests were positive. I can't go into details at this point, but I need you to stay in place for a few more days until we have formulated a plan." The tears had started to form in my eyes as I asked him 'When will you be able to give me details and what kind of plan are we talking about?" "We are going to need a little more time on our end and might need you to take a little vacation.
Ever been to Hawaii?" I left the hotel and headed out to a Safeway I had seen from the cab ride the other night and bought a bottle of the most expensive scotch they had.
I had never acquired a taste for anything other than beer and I just had a feeling beer wasn't going to get it done today and besides, my dad drank scotch. Bad Idea, Very Bad Idea! Tuesday morning my head felt like it was in a vise, my stomach had joined one of those circus groups in Vegas and my body felt like it had been in a car crash.
I got down very gently on my knees next to the bed and told God if he would make me feel better, I would never touch hard liquor again. Well, God did indeed hear me although it would have been helpful if he had not waited until 2:00pm to start easing the pain.
Around 4:00pm I stopped wishing I was dead and even sent down for some food at 6:00pm. I didn't call Cindy on Monday or Tuesday night and had no clue what I would ever have to say to her again. I now knew for sure, what I knew in my heart, the moment I picked up that sticky piece of plastic a little less than a week ago.
Wednesday morning I had a call at 6:00am from Cindy wanting to know why I hadn't called and I made a lame excuse about a slight cold and I was just not feeling that great. I seemed to feel she didn't quite buy my story, but at this point I didn't care if she thought I was screwing the hotel maid.
Come to think of it, it might have made the adulteress bitch feel better about herself to think I was as lowdown as her. I would like to think she had a higher opinion of me than that, but only a week ago I had had a much higher opinion of her. Life sometimes really sucks! I called Cindy Thursday night and told her about my team management classes and she seemed distracted or disinterested. Maybe her lover was there and my calls were taking her away from more interesting pursuits. I did tell her to expect me late Saturday afternoon and she told me once again that she loved me, but I swear this time it sounded like there was a bit less enthusiasm in her tone.
Friday around 4:00pm, Bill called "Jim, pack up. You will be picked up tomorrow morning at 9:00 am at the hotel main entrance for a flight to Hawaii. We'll need another week to finish up all the loose ends and Jim, this turned out to be much bigger than what we thought. I know I keep saying I'm sorry, but I really think you're one super guy.
Don't get me wrong, I still like girls and have no interest in batting for the other team, but I just know you deserve better than the hand you've been dealt. Say hello to Waikiki for me." Honolulu, Hawaii. It's the land of tall buildings, beautiful sandy beaches and unreported shark attacks. Hey, what do you expect the chamber of commerce to say 'Come to Hawaii and be part of our Offshore Buffet.' After the flight, I hit the bed and literally died for the next fourteen hours.
Never in my life do I remember doing anything remotely like that, but I have never experienced ten days like this ever before. While the feeling of being hit in the gut was fading, the emptiness of losing my other half was still impossible to process. It happened, get over it and reboot your life. I was hungry, truly hungry for the first time since that Wednesday morning when all this started. I showered and slipped on a knit shirt and slacks and headed downstairs to find that the Hilton had quite a nice Sunday brunch that should meet the needs of any growing boy.
I did overdo the pineapple to the point I was fairly certain my skin would have a yellowish tinge by tomorrow. I went back up to the room, donned a swimsuit purchased from a small store downstairs, picked up Bill's schedule of planned activities the driver handed me in San Francisco and headed down to the pool in search of a lounge chair. Sunday was listed as a free day&hellip.good plan so far. Monday I was being picked up at 8:30 for a round of golf with three naval officers and except for the fact I would be playing with rental clubs, probably not an unpleasant way to spend a day.
Tuesday pick up at 9:00 for a Pearl Harbor tour at the Arizona and the Missouri battleship followed by lunch at the officer's club. Golf again on Wednesday and a number of tourist attractions filled the rest of my week. Bill, or more likely Maggie, had went to a lot of trouble to keep my mind occupied and keep me in the company of others and for that, I would have to thank them for their kindness.
The golf clubs I used were a practically new set of Pings belonging to an admiral. He must have been about my size with a similar swing as mine, because the clubs fit me like a glove and were in fact a bit better than what I had at home. I spent most of Monday exploring the flora surrounding the fairways, avoiding the fairways as much as humanly possible. Wednesday saw me return a little more to form and the bank president that was my partner and I took twenty dollars from the two city councilman on the opposing side.
The banker and I bought lunch for the losers and rounds of beer were delivered to the table like clockwork.
This was my fondest memory of Hawaii and my partner and his lovely wife had me out for dinner on Thursday night. She was one of those women that remain timeless with beauty, grace and style. She also served the greatest pot roast I have ever had the pleasure to sink a fork into and the chocolate mousse was worthy of an award. Bill called early on Friday morning while I was still in bed "We're done and ready for you to come home.
We need you to first fly to Santa Fe, New Mexico tomorrow morning and the flight is unfortunately quite early at 5:20am." "I might as well start packing now and get a cab to the airport.
When do I get the whole story?" I asked. Bill sounded very sad when he told me "Tomorrow, when I meet you in Santa Fe, I will tell you everything I possibly can. I'll answer your questions, maybe not all of them, but I will give you everything I can. A car will be out front at 3:45am." That was it, I was going to get the truth, or at least some version of the truth, tomorrow. I only hoped that I could face this like a man and not like the hidden wimp in me that had cried himself to sleep too many times recently.
I was in the shower by 2:45am and waiting for my ride by 3:30am. On the flight, I stayed occupied with a Dick Frances' novel between some much needed periods of sleep. After changing planes in Los Angeles, it was off to sunny Santa Fe and the answers I felt I deserved. After I left the plane, I was met by a rather large man holding a sign that said 'J. Nesbit' and after we collected my bags (I bought another bag to hold my now extensive collection of colorful Hawaiian shirts) we went out and I climbed into the back seat of an immaculate Lincoln Town Car.
Harvey, my driver, left the airport and we headed to my unknown destination. Looking at the scenery outside the window, I was amazed at how different and yet beautiful I found this part of the country. About twenty minutes of driving, we turned on to a rural road and five minutes later, pulled into a driveway of a rather nice upscale home. While it was not a mansion, it was quite a bit larger than average with beautiful desert looking landscaping. Bill was standing near the door when the car stopped and walked towards the car as I got out to shake his hand.
He said "Welcome to Santa Fe. Come on in and we'll find you a beer and something to snack on and maybe a shower to get rid of that travel grime feeling. Harvey will take your bags to your room." I followed Bill up the steps and entered the house through the really wide doorway and was stunned by the size and Southwestern décor of this home "Damn it to hell. This place is beautiful! You're sure living in tall cotton staying in a place like this and yes, I'll take that beer and a shower.
Beer first and a shower later&hellip.or perhaps shower while I drink the beer. Then I want to know what you've learned." Bill laughed and directed me into a kitchen big enough to hold a smaller political party convention and told me "Pick your poison. I have six kinds of beer including that ale you like at the golf course." I said "If you have my ale, why are there five other kinds of beer in this enormous refrigerator?" "You like ale. You ever notice I drink something else and besides, you need a little variety in your life now." he told me.
He popped the top on the beer with the devise mounted on the cabinet and I downed about half a bottle in one swig. He reached in and pulled out another ale for me and a Rolling Rock for himself and popped the top on the ale and said "This might be a two ale shower and I wouldn't want you to get thirsty half way through.
Come down this hall and I'll show you where you're bunking." The king sized bed looked like a twin in a normal sized bedroom. This house looked smaller on the outside than it really was and the décor had the look of what only a team of decorators and a large amount of capital could deliver. My bags were on the bed and both had been opened for my connivance. "Where's Harvey? I want to thank him for the ride out here." I told Bill while digging into my main bag for some fresh clothes.
"Harvey is long gone and we will not be disturbed until we've finished talking. I'll leave you now and you can join me in the great room, just off the living room, as soon as you're ready." he said. The shower was spacious with multiple showerheads, it was really a kind of religious experience. Dressed, refreshed and ready to hear Bill's tale, I found the kitchen again, got my third ale and went looking for the great room.
It was interconnected by a door with the living room and featured an area for watching video, a pool table and several chairs and a couch forming a conversation pit. Bill was seated on the couch when he began "Cindy is currently having affairs with five different men and more than a dozen since you two have been married.
She had let her grasp on reality get so far out of hand that she required sex with multiple partners daily to keep her world balanced. Saturday afternoon she was with the neighbor that had the July 4th party the two of you attended last year.
Sunday was the salesman that sold you the Mercedes and from the story we get from the both of them, she had been the initial aggressor. It's truly hard for any man to resist a beautiful woman when she makes it clear she is available to him. The salesman had never cheated on his wife nor had any intention to, he was just weak and when asked, he answered the call." While I tried to get my breath, he continued "We have video of four of the current men with your wife from that week, two of them came by more than once.
The owner of a real estate firm was away during the week we monitored your house and we only learned of him and the others after we brought Cindy in for interrogation." "Jim, our major problem came when we identified a man calling himself Andy Whitman who came to your house the Friday morning before you left for San Francisco and again on Tuesday when he spent the night.
We knew him as Serge Vitslive from his time at a spy training center outside Moscow two years ago and picked him up Thursday evening. He asked Cindy where you were going and when you would be back and she told him the cover story without even asking him why he wanted to know. During the interviews, she told us he had always asked questions about you and assumed it was just an ego thing that he was taking something from you behind your back. She really didn't care that much because his cock was much bigger than anyone she had ever been with and he was able to please her more than you ever had." "She actually said that?" I asked.
"Yes, and that he had been a regular for seven months. During that time, he had placed listening devices in every room of your home.
The men we had wire your home spotted the bugs immediately and looked for cameras. Finding none, they were careful not to make any noise that was loud enough to be heard. More than likely, since you were gone, the Soviets weren't even listening Thursday night." I fought the pain from being told Cindy had found someone she considered a better lover and that killed any remaining love I felt for her.
I guess his bigger dick canceled out my love entirely. I tried to sound calm when I asked "You said there were twelve men. What about the others?" He answered "Of the current men, the other was a teacher at the local high school. The others represent a pretty wide spectrum of society including her doctor, a man that attends your church, a county fireman, an auto mechanic, a fitness instructor at her gym and another owned a small firm that sells high end sound systems.
She just made it clear that she was available and men being what we are, they couldn't resist." I knew better, but I had to ask. "Can I see the videos?" "Jim, the videos are in a box over by the TV along with phone recordings made from your home phone as well as your wife's calls from her cell phone along with the edited transcripts from the interviews with her.
That said, one week from today you will be returning the entire contents of this box to me and there will be no copies made of any of the material.
Some of the contents of that box were never intended for your eyes and if anyone knew I made it available to you, I'd better start polishing up my resume including some fairy tale about what I've been doing for the last nine years since I joined the Agency. My advice, don't open the box. Once you do, the images will haunt you forever. Seeing someone you love, doing things she probably never even suggested to you, is enough to drive anyone insane.
Don't go there." he said he lowered his eyes towards the floor. I wanted to know "What's next and most importantly, when can I go home?" By way of answering, Bill got up and gestured for me to follow him and he led me down a hallway and when he opened the door, I peered into a large three car garage.
There sat my Miata and next to it, a silver Mazda SUV.
Bill almost whispered "You are home. You never lived in Virginia, you were never married and the place you work, while not identical, is located six miles from this house.
You still have your gym equipment, your whirlpool and the couch from your old office." I asked "What about Cindy?" Ignoring my question, he told me "This home and the SUV are both paid off in full." And then he whispered "Cindy and Serge were a clear threat to national security.
The operative word here is 'were'." Epilogue I never opened the box. It didn't made sense for me to look at images of a ghost. She was a link to a part of my past life and this was a new beginning. I know the new home is wired from top to bottom and I often see the vehicles that follow me wherever I go. I know when Bill and I play golf, (yes, Bill moved out to Santa Fe within a few weeks as my own special guardian angel) I see a guy over in the brush searching for his ball&hellip.on almost every hole.
Do I mind the watch dogs hovering around me? No, I figure if the Soviets are interested enough to bug my home and assigned an agent to fuck my wife in hopes of gathering information about what I'm up to, I need as much protection as I can get. In the two years since the move to Santa Fe, I have met some ladies that have been willing to spend time with me. Several have even joined me in my bed and so far, none has matched Cindy. But, I keep a stiff upper lip, I'm willing to keep searching till I find one that does.
This is my first attempt at fiction. My other writing has been ad copy, political speeches (most of which had an element of fiction) and songwriting. I hope you were able to follow my story and would welcome any feedback. Be kind……I know people. Depending on how this is received and if readers were not totally confused by the ramblings of my mind, I have several other story ideas in mind.