Thursday 21st June 2018, Hotel in L.A.

Secretly I watched from the lobby as Chris and Jill sat in the hotel bar, their heads close together like lovers as they refreshed their old relationship. Watching them brought all kinds of pleasures and fears swirling into my consciousness. I’d built myself up to an even higher pitch of pleasure and pain by forcing myself away and prolonging my shower to give the two of them more time together and to give me more time to dwell on it.

But now back with them in the bar, I tried my best to appear calm and relaxed.

“Hi, guys, how was your day?”

That was my opener as I butted into their happy little twosome. To their credit, however close and happy they’d seemed, they looked happy to see me.

We shared small talk; they seemed almost as happy as me when I told them about my great meeting. And then, as if from out of nowhere, the call arrived that left me with a terrible dilemma.

The little screen said ‘Andy Oasis’, my main contact from the company I’d just met earlier that day on my project recovery mission.

“Hi, Andy, how you doing?”

“Hi, Dave. I’m good, thanks for asking. How are you?”

“A lot better than I was this morning, I don’t mind telling you. By the way, I was meaning to say a big thank you for all the help and patience, today and over the last few months. I know we screwed up and I really appreciate how you’ve helped us starting to put things back on track.” It never hurts to give a bit of soap, but in this case, I meant every word of it.

“Thanks, Dave,” he replied with polite brevity. “And Oasis and me personally really appreciate how you’ve gone above and beyond in trying to fix this thing. And actually, that’s why I’m calling. We’ve just finished the board meeting here and the Chairman and CEO have been really impressed by how you’ve handled this thing. We’ve had this kind of screw up before and our other advisers haven’t been nearly as effective or committed as you have in turning things around. We’re all heading downtown for a meal, some wine, and maybe a club, and the Chairman and CEO have insisted I get you along as they’d like to say thanks and get to know you a bit better …”

I’d heard that intonation and phrasing enough times to know there was a fifty-fifty chance that after the meal and over drinks and cigars there was quite possibly a job offer coming my way. After all, why pay a consulting company top dollar when you can hire the staff directly and pay half the amount? Even if I was wrong, this kind of invite was certainly great PR and networking and would likely lead to more sales sooner or later.

Ordinarily, I’d have jumped at the kind of invite Andy had just given me, but every bone in my body told me I shouldn’t leave Chris and Jill together alone for dinner and more booze. Hearing my non-reply, Andy doubled-down.

“Hey, Dave. I know you’ve got your wife in town for the wedding, but surely she wouldn’t miss you for just one evening? Surely she could go and see family or something? It’ll look bad for me if my bosses see I can’t persuade you. What da ya say, man?”

I was totally torn. I knew Andy was right that if I didn’t show it would reflect badly on him. And the possibility of a job offer or a budding relationship with the two most senior people in one of our largest clients wasn’t something to be sniffed at. But, hell, given the way I was feeling and the chemistry that was being rekindled between them right in front of my eyes, did I dare leave the two of them alone all evening in a nice restaurant with a free-flowing supply of wine? Did I have enough faith and trust in the two of them, in Jill?

“Come on, man, don’t make me look bad here. I’m up for promotion at year’s end. Come on, Dave, you owe me, man. I was the one who fought your corner last month and stopped them instructing the lawyers. You owe me, man.”

Andy’s voice and insistent tone made it difficult to concentrate and even more difficult to say no.

“Where’s the meal?”

“It’s about ten minutes from your hotel, Dave. Il Diablo, it’s one of the city’s best, you’ll love it.”

“Okay, you win, Andy. Give me a few minutes to finish up here. I’ll see you there in forty-five, okay?”

“Thanks, man. I won’t forget this, I owe you one,” and then the phone went dead as Andy rang off.

Jill and Chris looked confused, and so I explained. Chris looked me in the eye and asked me if I was still okay for him and Jill to go to dinner together, ‘given all that had happened’ as he so diplomatically put it.

Initially, I took this as a good sign, the guy doing the decent thing. But my brain whirred away wondering if this was a double bluff. A chess player offering up a pawn in the knowledge it meant he’d capture a queen, his offer making it difficult for me to be small-minded, however insecure I might be feeling.

“No, it’s okay, Chris, you two go ahead, let’s try and catch up for a drink afterward, I’ll see how quickly I can escape. Anyway, at least I’ve got a chance for a drink now. How’s about you open up that corporate wallet of yours and get me a double Scotch?”

Chris smiled. “Same old Dave. Would it kill you to support America, to give Kentucky a chance just for once? Or are you such an Anglophile that there’s no hope for you?”

“Anglophile? Don’t be so ignorant, Chris. What would your Scottish grandmother say if she heard you suggesting Glenfiddich’s distilled on the banks of the Thames? Shame on you … now, why don’t you hurry along and get that barman to pour me a double measure of his most expensive thirty-year-old, and consider paying for it due penance for your shocking lack of education and knowledge of your own family heritage …”

Chris grinned, we both grinned at each other, I think both remembering the happier times before things had all gone south, when Chris and I had been good friends without the suspicion and the tension over our shared love for the same woman.

***

The meal and drinks with Oasis seemed to drag on inordinately. I was sat right between the CEO and Chairman. I only knew them from their media profiles and the initial research our sales department had done when we’d been originally pitching to be appointed their main technology advisers. Both of them were effusive in their praise of the way I and my company had worked to fix this problem, the unrestrained nature of their praise being my first clue that the evening would end up in a subtly worded approach to switch to work for them directly. If they’d been planning on the other option, more work, they’d have been in negotiation mode, more even-handed in their comments to maintain some semblance of leverage and indecision. An evening of over-the-top flattery, on the other hand, was more recruitment 101 foreplay.

On my second glass of port, I smiled to myself that my powers of prediction hadn’t failed me. “You know, Dave, we’ve been impressed by your company, but most of all it’s you we’ve been impressed with. There aren’t many people we come across that have your mix of technical and business insight, combined with the integrity and commitment you’ve demonstrated these last few weeks. You know, we’re always on the lookout for top-notch talent and if ever you were looking for a new challenge, we’d be honored if you’d think of us as a possible new home for your ambitions.”

And there you had it. That’s how you get to the top. The pitch-perfect cocktail of flattery, piqued interest, and subtle use of language. Designed to avoid a lawsuit where a blunter approach would have broken about fifteen anti-poaching clauses in the contract between our two companies.

My smile back to Calvin, the Oasis Chairman, told him we both understood the game, confirming to him that I was someone worth trying to snag, that I was someone who got both the technical and the political.

“Calvin, that’s very kind of you to say those nice things. I’m lucky to have a strong team around me and a good company backing us up.” Translation – I don’t come cheap. “And obviously we’re very committed to supporting you in your development plans, and the more we understand these, the better we can support you. So anything you can share about those plans helps us support you better.” Meaning, tell me what you want me to head up and work on, so my company can help you, because of course, I’d never jump ship; that would be unethical, right?

The rest of the evening was a delicately choreographed dance, talking through the three or four new areas they were focusing research on and how it was terribly hard to get strong leadership for these areas. How the last guy hadn’t worked out, despite an annual half-million package and matching stock options to incentivize him. I had to admire the guy. Best part of a bottle of wine in him and four vintage ports and he still didn’t put a foot wrong. Poetry-in-motion, this guy’s corporate seduction technique was something to behold. No wonder he was on his fourth marriage; this type of skill being something that would be hard to contain to working life only.

***

Ten-thirty p.m. and it was a slightly drunk but very happy Dave Foster who was heading back to the hotel, window wide open in the cab to try and help me sober up a little. Honestly, the evening had been so full on that I’d not had much chance to think about Chris and Jill and all of my intense earlier insecurities. My mind was pretty much focused on where my conversation with Calvin Davis had ended up. When he’d looked me in the eye and told me they were placing an ad in various trade journals and needed to make an appointment in the next month. Both of us thinking ‘pity the poor schmuck’ who read the ad and bothered to apply, as the interview shortlist was a shortlist of one. The package he’d hinted at was a full sixty percent higher than my current package, and as a guy with maybe ten years left on my career was an offer I’d struggle to resist if I was to do the right thing by my family and myself.

The cab was already charged to the Oasis account, just another little example of their charm offensive, and so I hopped out at our hotel and for the first time for several hours thought about Jill and Chris. I half expected to see them in the hotel bar, but seeing no sign of them, I decided to head up to our room to see if they were there.

With a mind characterized by the half-drunk’s habit of wanting what they know is wrong for them, a little part of me hoped I’d find them in flagrante delicto. I knew I didn’t really want this, but my slightly sozzled brain wanted a little hit of the old passion and excitement before focusing back on our staid and serious weekend of family festivities.

I was just about to insert the electronic keycard when I stopped myself, pretty sure that I heard voices coming from within our suite. Part of me always felt guilty and ashamed whenever I eavesdropped or watched from the shadows, but it was a desire that I found increasingly difficult to resist. Something about the way it guaranteed I’d hear and know the truth in a life strewn with growing insecurities and worries these last few months.

Operating the lock as slowly and quietly as I could, I eased the door an inch or so open with the same care and then pushed my ear to the gap. I couldn’t hear the words, but it was clear to me the voices weren’t near the door, so I slowly eased it further until I could just about squeeze my head through and peer inside.

The light in the suite’s lounge was turned low. I looked through the door to the connecting bedroom to see that the voices were coming from the bedroom’s sliding door to the balcony, pushed open by Jill and Chris as they’d gone to sit together on the balcony to enjoy the cooler evening air.

My sense of shame and embarrassment took a distant second place to my sense of excitement that I could listen to them and get a true sense of how things were between them, although my excitement was balanced by a nervous anxiety about what I might hear. But in truth, this was the whole game Jill and I had been playing these last few months, pleasure mixed with danger as Siamese twins which seemed to encourage and give extra spice to each other.

I positioned myself in the shadows of the darkened lounge, making a mental note to announce myself and pretend I’d just arrived back as and when the two of them came inside and strained my hearing to pick up their conversation.

At first, what they discussed was innocuous and hardly interesting to me. Work stuff, Chris’s love life (or lack of it), and John and Becky’s upcoming wedding. Chris announced he was sad that he’d not been invited, in the next breath admitting he understood and accepted why this was so. It was just a short step from here to Chris teasing Jill about the fact she’d soon be a grandma, which earned him a look sharp enough to even be clear to me in the shadows and low lights of the balcony.

“Grandma … you wouldn’t be calling me Grandma if you’d been a fly on the wall these last few weeks in Miami.” I could almost hear the grin in her voice as she fought her corner.

“Yeah … you were a bit cagey about that when you asked me to waive notice … now that I’ve been nice enough to say yes, I think you owe your old boyfriend a bit more juicy gossip about what exactly you’re leaving me to do, and exactly what naughty games you and Dave have been playing to try and fill the Chris-shaped hole in your life …”

My heart was beating away. Chris's work problems hadn’t made him any less cocky and conceited, and hearing him referring to his previous status as Jill’s boyfriend tweaked my heartstrings.

“What’s to say, I guess Dave and I decided things got a bit too intense, a bit too emotional between the three of us in the end. So we decided to do something a bit more physical, a bit less involved,” Jill said, her voice wistful and reflective.

“That’s not gossip. I’ll need more than that. Who, how often, when, where, do I need to be worried, that sort of thing,” Jill’s apparently soon to be ex-boss replied, pushing for more detail and something juicier.

Jill made a half turn to the right, now looking directly at Chris. “Sometimes I’m a bit nervous to say it aloud myself. But would it surprise you if I told you they’re all black, African Americans?”

Chris nearly choked on the half-drunk glass of wine he’d been about to drink. “All? All? Did you just say ‘all’, Jill? Shit, I’ve only been gone a couple of months. Exactly how many guys have you been with?” he spluttered.

From her tone and smile, Jill was enjoying playing the scarlet woman, an infinitely better casting than Grandma Foster. “Well, let me see. First, there was Josh, then there was Freddy, they kind of come as a pair. Then they introduced me to Luther, and then he introduced me to Malcolm.” She was enjoying the shocked look on Chris’s face. “Oh, and of course I nearly forgot, there were Dee and Veronica as well. I’m not sure if they count or not, though, as they don’t have dicks,” she added playfully.

“You're shittin’ me, Jill. Are you telling me that sweet, mother of three, faithful wife Jill has had four black lovers and two lesbian play pals in the few weeks since I’ve been gone? Hell, Jill, are you going for some kind of world record or something?” Chris seemed genuinely shocked by Jill’s promiscuity since their relationship had ended.

The light was too low to see it, but I guessed she was blushing. “You make me sound like a right slut, and it wasn’t at all like that. It just kinda happened, what with Josh and Freddy living next door and my new, heightened libido, thanks to my man-slut of a boss. And then Josh kinda led to Luther, and Luther led to Malcolm.”

For the next few minutes, both Chris and I listened with rapt attention as Jill gave Chris the lowdown on all that had happened in her love life since he’d left, with Chris uncharacteristically quiet as he listened, only speaking as Jill reached the end of her story.

“Shit, Jill. And all this started because Dave virtually pushed you into the arms of Josh and Freddy. If I’ve got it right, that little gold bikini of yours was like some kind of Willy Wonka golden ticket, handed out by your loving husband to knock you off the wagon just two weeks after I asked you to leave him and come with me to L.A.”

A look passed between the two of them. “Shit, Jill, do you never wonder about that husband of yours? I mean, just two weeks after you nearly left him to come to L.A. with me, and he’s pushing you into the arms of two other guys? Don’t you ever wonder?”

There was a long silence, I guess Jill thinking about the question Chris had posed, the silence only broken by Jill’s long sigh before she finally spoke.

“Yeah, of course sometimes I do. I mean, it’s obvious what’s in it for me. An endless conveyor belt of hunky guys to bed me and fuck me with their big cocks, with an occasional romantic interest thrown in for good measure,” she added, looking across at Chris. “But for Dave, it’s different I guess. Sometimes he gets to play, like now there’s a girl called Veronica who’s really into him. But mostly he gets off on knowing and watching me with guys who he thinks of as more masculine and virile than him.”

Standing in the darkened room watching and listening as my own wife clinically dissected my strange addiction and happily discussed it with her ex-boyfriend felt like the biggest, most painful emotional betrayal. Even if I’d stooped to the low point of sharing Jill physically with other guys, the emotional betrayal of her talking about me like this felt like blades surging through my stomach up towards my chest. My whole body seemed on fire with energy and pain, feeling the biggest possible shame that I was enjoying the masochistic thrill of the pain I was feeling. It literally felt like a buzz was passing through my whole body, the pain and hurt deep and troubling but somehow pleasurable at the same time.

Chris chuckled, which just added an extra flew blades to my pain. “I guess he’s always been a bit insecure. And he’d have to be blind not to know he married above himself in the looks department. And having seen his cock that night with Rocco, I’m guessing a lot of this is to do with his physical insecurities as he’s not very big where it matters.”

Part of me thought and hoped Jill would come to my defense, but I guessed this wasn’t the first time they’d discussed this, and she carried on being very cool.

“I know you’re right, Chris. And I know part of me should be grateful because it’s those insecurities that mean he’s okay for me to play with bigger and more masculine guys. But honestly, sometimes I do long for the simpler times from before, when it was just good old-fashioned love-making. Husband and wife, just the two of us.”

The silence returned between them, and the longer the silence lasted, the more I knew what Chris was about to say next.

“You know, Jill. I respect the decision you made two months ago. But I have to tell you, if even now you took me up on my offer and left Dave to come and live with me, you’d have that simple life, and you’d also have a guy who can make love to you like you’ve come to know and expect. I hate to say it, Jill, but now that you know what really good sex is like, you’ll never get that simple life and the great sex as well.”

Suddenly I felt weak at the knees, my body light-headed as all my memories of that terrible weekend when Jill nearly left me came flooding back. I felt like screaming. How could this be happening again? I’d won. Surely I’d won; Jill had come home and chosen me. And yet here we were again, two months later with her sitting snug and close next to Chris on a romantic balcony, talking about my shortcomings and listening quietly as her ex tried to get her to leave me again. Why wasn’t she shouting and screaming, slapping him in the face and telling him where to go? I felt like my heart was breaking as my mind shouted the only explanation it could – that a big part of her soul and heart wanted Chris’s offer.

And then, as if in slow-motion, my world started to collapse in on itself as Jill leaned across and planted the softest and most emotion-laden kisses on Chris’s lips, taking him totally by surprise as he just sat looking dumb-struck at my wife.

Jill just looked into his eyes, the silence stretching for an eternity as I felt an indescribable pain in my chest. I felt tears start to form in my eyes, sure that I was watching the death of my marriage and my desire to live.

A second kiss came and I closed my eyes, unable to watch, clutching the hotel’s desk to stop me collapsing from the pain and the panic.

“You know, Chris. I never stopped loving you.”

(Thanks to cbears52 for his kind and careful editing)