The Accountant's Wife
The main act: in the present

Copyright© 2017 by Andyhm

Thriller Sex Story: The main act: in the present - Over the past year, I've had quite a few requests to write a follow-up to The Woodworker's Wife, one in which Marcus gets his comeuppance. I had a story bouncing around in my thoughts, the chance to including Marcus as the villain was the perfect addition. It's not another tale of Dave and Zoe, nor is it a true sequel. But it does have Marcus as one of the villains. It is possible to read this as a standalone story

Caution: This Thriller Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Coercion   Consensual   Romantic   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Cheating   Indian Female  

There had been a couple of major changes to our lives since that holiday. The first and most important was that our family had grown by one. We had created a merman as a result of our midnight swim. Nine months later we had a son who we named David Conrad James, but everyone called him Davy.

The other big change was the reappearance of my parents back into my life. Ever since my eleventh birthday and my first term at Kendrick Hall prep school, I’d only seen them a few times a year. Sounds odd, I know, but they were always travelling on Academic research trips. It wasn’t that they didn’t love me, I’d always known that they did, but they loved their shared passion for anthropology almost as much.

My father, Simon, suffered a minor heart attack. Usually, that wouldn’t have been a big issue if he had received medical care at the time. Dad had his attack deep in the Amazon jungle. It took Mum four days to get him to civilization and proper medical care, and the resulting damage to his heart was more than it should have been.

As a result, my parents rethought their lives. Dad took an early retirement, due to his poor health. My mother went part time at the university and refused to travel. They put their large home up for sale and began looking for a smaller place closer to us. Most weekends they would stay with us as they looked at the local property. Jessica reveled in all the new attention she was getting, Davy was too young to appreciate it yet, but no doubt he would soon.

My business was going from strength to strength. The upside of which was I was able to employ a couple more forensic accountant investigators. A bonus for me was that I didn’t need to travel as much and when I did they were usually short trips. If I were lucky, Rebecca would come with me, although recently she’d been too busy.


It had started five months earlier when Rebecca arrived home from work. Her face was drawn and pale; she looked uncomfortable. I got a token kiss; then she made a fuss over Jessica and Davy. I poured her a glass of wine, and she sipped from it absently as she got the daily update from Larissa, our au pair.

That evening after both children fell asleep and we were able to relax on the patio watching the summer sun dipped below the horizon. I asked her about her day

The first thing she said was, “Guess who turned up at our office today?”

“Do you want me to guess or are you going to tell me?”

She smiled, but then she grew serious, “Marcus Forde.”

I grew cold at hearing that name. For fun, I’d checked with Mary about our Mr. Forde after the holiday, and I discovered that his reputation as a woman chaser was justly deserved. One of the issues he’d been having when he’d joined us on the yacht had been that he’d seduced the wife of his boss, and he had a long history of chasing married women.

“Christ, the dickhead who turned up at the yacht. I thought he was long gone, whatever happened to him?”

“My team had solved that issue before our holiday was over, so I never had any reason to see him again until this afternoon.”

I paused for a moment; I remembered the way he’d looked at Rebecca, and it had disturbed me. I’d been very relieved he’d not crossed our path again.

“Why did he come to see you,” I asked.

Rebecca didn’t answer me straight away. Instead, she played with her glass. “Dad called me yesterday; Roger has a problem, a big one.”

“Let me guess, Marcus has fucked up again.” I tried not to smile.

Rebecca didn’t smile, she just looked concerned which worried me. “It seems like it; a couple of years ago Roger put Marcus in charge of a group of companies in Eastern Europe. The local authorities are investigating Marcus and the senior management for fraud and bribery of local officials. It’s a serious crime in both Europe and Romania. The fines alone could be in the multi-million Euro range. Roger could even lose the companies.”

Now it was my turn not to smile. “So Roger wants Conrad and Winter and Associates to defend him and his bloody nephew?”

“In a way, the companies are part of a separate European division, she said, “so, Roger is off the hook. As I’m based over here, Dad wants me to take the lead and defend Marcus and the rest of the senior managers.”

“Oh, hell no,” I said without thinking.

Rebecca gave me a surprised look. “I don’t get to choose my clients, Mike. I may be in charge over here but when Dad tells me to jump, the only answer I’m allowed to give is ‘how high’.”

“Becs, this has gone on too long. You don’t need to work anymore; I earn far more than we can spend, just pack your job in.”

As soon as I said it, I knew I’d gone too far. She stared at me; her lips were pale and tight. I didn’t regret saying it; I just wished I’d approached the idea a bit more diplomatically, but it was something I’d been thinking about ever since Davy had been born.

“I’m not giving up my career,” Rebecca snapped. “I’ve spent too much time and effort to get where I am now.”

“I’m not suggesting that you give up the law. I know how much you love that, but you don’t need to work for your father, how about looking for a job locally? At least consider going part time and find someone else to handle this case.”

She shook her head, and I knew that there was little chance I would be able to make her change her mind. I tried, though.

“We knew him for less than a day,” I said, “and as far as I could see he spent most of that time trying to seduce you. He’s got a history of seducing married women. Now you’ll need to spend months with him. Your team dealt with him last time, why can’t they do it again?”

“It’s too big a case this time. You don’t like him, do you?”

“He gave me no reason to like him, did he?” I gave her a questioning look. “I guess that this is a big case for you, but I’m convinced that he’ll use the situation to get close to you. Don’t work on it on your own; get someone else to run the point for you.”

She gave me an angry look in return. “What hurts, is that you seem to think that I’ll fall for his charming smile; don’t you trust me?”

Fuck, “Of course I trust you; it’s him I don’t trust. Do you recall me telling you about Karen’s friend Geraldine, the lawyer? She nodded, and I continued. “When I mentioned Marcus, she thought his name sounded familiar and somehow linked to Geraldine. She asked her and Geraldine told her about a married local artist he tried to seduce.”

“Mike, I’m not an impressionable schoolgirl, I can look after myself. I’ve got to take this case, Dad’s insisting, but I promise I’ll keep everything professional. Hell, he gives me the creeps, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

There wasn’t anything more to say about it, other than to retire to our bedroom and confirm how much we loved each other until we both fell into an exhausted sleep.


The next few months passed, seemingly without incident. Rebecca saw Marcus several times at her office in London, and she would come home vocal about her frustration with him. On four occasions, she and a couple of her associates flew to Romania to interview and take depositions from the senior managers who’d been arrested with Marcus.

The first time she’d flown to Romania, I’d asked her why she needed to travel if Marcus was in the U.K.

“The only reason Marcus was allowed to leave the country was that Roger posted a five-million-euro bond,” she said. “He won’t do it for the others, so I need to go there to interview them.”

Mid-November I got back from a two-week trip to Australia. A case I’d dealt with earlier in the year had gone to court, and I was a witness for the prosecution. I hadn’t been keen on going, and I tried and failed to get Rebecca to come with me.

Rebecca was waiting for me as the taxi dropped me off at home. When I saw her, she looked drawn and nervous. Something had changed, and I instantly thought about Marcus. She hugged me and wouldn’t let me go for what seemed ages.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Just hold me,” she said. “I’ve just had a rough few days, and I’m so pissed off with Roger and Dad.”

I did as I was told, and after a few minutes l felt her begin to relax, and I was able to lead her into the kitchen and get her to sit down.

“Tea?”

“Please.”

As I prepared it for her, she gathered her thoughts. She never told me anything about her cases other than very general details. Today she broke her own rule which told me how upset she was.

“Roger has made a separate deal with the Romanian government behind my back. He’s sold the companies involved to a group of Romanian businessmen and the government has dropped the charges against all the senior managers.”

“So, Marcus gets off Scot free, the jammy bastard.”

“Yes and no, the Romanian government have dropped their charges, but the European Commission has decided not to play ball and is going to carry on with their case against him. Roger’s livid; he called Dad and told him that if Marcus doesn’t get off, we won’t get any more of their business.”

“If it’s so important to your father, why isn’t he sending someone over to take the case?”

“He can’t; I am the firm’s expert on European law, I’m also the only one who has the correct credentials for the European courts. Come on, you know it’s why I work here.”

Shit, I knew that I was just venting my anger on the wrong person. “Is he guilty?”

She gave me an exasperated look, “Of course he is, but that’s irrelevant as far as Roger is concerned. I’ve got my instructions. I have to get him off.” Her expression changed to one that radiated a degree of nervousness that raised my sense of agitation.

“Why am I sensing that I need to be worried?” I asked.

“You don’t, only I’m going to need to spend a fair amount of time with Marcus, and I know you’re not going to be happy about that.”

“Too fucking right I’m not.”

“Don’t worry love; I’ll keep it professional and all aboveboard.”

“Hell it’s not you I’m worried about, it’s him!”

“Mike, you’ve got nothing to worry about, I’ve seen him three times this week, and he’s been the perfect gentleman each time.”

It took me a while to take it all in, not helped as I was tired from the 24 hours of travel. “Three times!

Rebecca gave me an entreating look. “I love you and our children too much to let a silver-tongued asshole spoil our life.”

I drew her into a hug, “I love you, too.”

That’s how we left it, both tiptoeing around our feelings for the next few days. I had no proof that Marcus considered Rebecca as anything more than his lawyer. I just had a gut feeling that given even the slimmest chance he would actively pursue her if he wasn’t already.


Over the next couple of weeks, I did the one thing I promised I would never do; I started a financial investigation into one of Rebecca’s clients, our Mr. Forde. It’s a lot harder when you’re not given access to a company’s records, but I have a pair of computer geniuses working for me who were more than happy to work on the dark side after I explained why. They warned me that their research was going to take a lot longer than usual.

They were still delving into Marcus a month later when the evening of Winter and Associates European branch annual Christmas party rolled around. This year, Conrad and a couple of the senior partners were flying over from America to attend. I suspected that Marcus’s case had something to do with their decision to attend. All the staff and partners were invited. A couple of weeks before the party, the firm had decided to change the date to the second Friday in December. Something of a surprise as it had always been on the second Saturday in December.

When Rebecca told me the change, I gave her a surprised look. “I thought I told you I’m away the latter half of that week; I don’t get back until Saturday.”

“Christ, I thought that you were going to be back on Friday,” she said. “Is there any chance you can change the dates? I can’t move the date of the party. Dad has insisted we hold it on Friday.”

I was sure I couldn’t; there were personal reasons I needed to go, but I didn’t want to tell her that. “I’ll see what my client says,” I told her.

I had no luck, so Wednesday afternoon I flew to Rome. The client was a small family run investment bank, and the owners were related to Francesca via her mother’s side of the family. They handled a lot of Francesca’s accounts, so I had a soft spot for them. I’d helped several of their clients out of tricky situations in the past at her request. This time they had the problem, they had discovered a large shortfall in their accounts and the brothers that owned the bank were refusing to contact the police. They’d been sitting on the discovery for some time waiting for me to try and find their missing funds.

“Signor James,” the bank president said. “We can’t let anyone know; if they think their investments are not safe they withdraw their funds. It will ruin us.” He looked nervous and admitted that several large transactions were coming up over the next few days and that they doubted they had the funds to cover them. As some of the missing funds belonged to Francesca, I was eager to solve the problem.

By Thursday evening I was sure no crime had been committed, their missing funds turned out to be an absolute cluster fuck of an accounting error. Over several months, funds had been transferred to a dormant account in error. It was as simple as a three being transposed to an eight in the account details. It took me most of Friday morning to prove it to the satisfaction of the bank’s owners, and start the process of recovering the missing millions.

I tried to call Rebecca and gave her the good news. Her assistant answered Rebecca’s phone.

“Rebecca James phone, this is Marcia, can l take a message.”

“Hi Marcia, it’s Mike.”

“Mike, I was sorry to hear you can’t make it tonight. Did you want to talk to Rebecca? Only she’s in a meeting about the Forde case, and I can’t interrupt it.”

I sighed, shit that meant she was with Marcus. “That’s a pity, only I’ve got some good news. I’ve finished here early so it looks like I should get back in time to make the party.”

“Oh that’s nice, she’ll be so happy you can make it. I’ll let her know. So you will be here in time?” She queried.

“I’m booked on a flight after lunch. I won’t have time to go home to change, but I’ve got a decent suit with me. I’ll come to the office; I should be there late afternoon.”

“It’s not at the office this year,” Marcia said with a hint of surprise in her voice. “Didn’t your wife tell you?”

It was the first I’d heard that it wasn’t at their offices and I wondered what else I hadn’t been told. I told Marcia I hadn’t been aware and made a note of the new address. It seemed that it was going to be at a restaurant in Knightsbridge.

Of course, the best-laid plans of mice and men: the flight home Friday afternoon was seriously delayed because of a French air traffic controller strike.

Again, I tried to call Rebecca from the departure lounge. This time it went straight to voicemail. “Hey love, I’m sorry, it looks like my flight’s been delayed. I’m flying into Gatwick; we are due to take off at six. It’s a two and a half hour flight. I’ll get the Gatwick Express into town and come straight to the party. I’ll give you a call when I land.”

As it was, the flight was delayed a further hour, and we landed at eight-thirty. I only had a carry-on bag, so I was through immigration and customs in less than half an hour. I paused for a moment to gather my wits. It was a lot later than I expected; should I just give up and head home? As I pondered, the address system announced the next departure of the Gatwick Express train service to London would depart in 10 minutes. I found myself hurrying across the airport building towards the station. The journey into London only took 30 minutes. A 20-minute taxi ride and I alighted at the entrance of the restaurant.

I was surprised to see a sign on the door telling the world that the restaurant was closed for a private event. I’d eaten here before, and it was a bit large for the limited number that was usually at the Christmas party. I’d known that there were private dining rooms and I’d just assumed the party was in one of those. The rather large man, effectively blocking the doorway while eying me suspiciously was further evidence of the private nature of the event.

He said, “Private party,” as he held out his hand to stop me entering. “I need to see an invite before I can let you in.”

What invite, I thought? Rebecca or Marcia hadn’t mentioned anything about an invite. Then I remembered I’d told Marcia that I’d call Rebecca when I arrived. I fumbled for my phone and found I’d forgotten to switch it back from the flight mode. There were no missed calls or messages. I called her again; her phone only rang once before going straight to voice mail. Crap, I left her a brief message to say that I was here.

I turned back to the man in the doorway. “Look, I was supposed to come with my wife, Rebecca James,” I explained. “She’s a senior partner of the firm that’s holding this party. My flight was delayed, so I assume she’s already here and has got my invite ... or did she put my name on a list?” I asked hopefully.

He shook his head, “I don’t have a list mate, as far as I understand it’s invite only. I’ve got strict instructions, no invite, no entrance, I can’t do anything.”

“Can you just get a message through to her, or anyone from Winter’s; they will vouch for me.”

He hesitated and then spoke briefly into a microphone pinned to his lapel. He touched his ear as he listened to a response. His face resumed its blank expression, and he studiously ignored me.

It was a good couple of minutes later before the door cracked open. A woman I didn’t know eased out of the opening and gave me a studied look.

“You say you’re Rebecca’s husband,” she said as she looked at her iPad. “Can you prove it?”

I gave her a surprised look, “Of course I am, who the hell are you?” I fumbled in my pocket and passed her my passport.

“Check the name and my emergency contact,” I told her.

She did and compared my name against a list visible on the iPad. Then gave me a confused look. “I’m Mia, the event planner,” she said. “I’ve been coordinating this party for your wife, only I was under the impression...” her voice trailed off.

She gave me another look, “I think I need to check this,” she said.

I was getting annoyed, I pointed at the iPad in her hand and snapped, “Am I on that list?”

“A Michael James is on it,” she agreed.

I pointed at the passport in her other hand. “And am I Michael James?”

She gave me my passport back and looked at me for a long moment. Then she said, “It seems you are.” She turned to the doorman, “You can let him in Pete; he is who he says he is, and he’s on the invite list.”

Mia held the door open for me, and I entered the lobby, pulling my carry-on bag behind me. I heard her mutter to Pete, “This could get interesting.” I couldn’t make out his reply. What was going on, why could it get interesting I wondered.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on,” I asked. “Why all the security for a little office Christmas party? There’s never been any for any of the previous parties?”

She laughed at me. “Well, there’s never been a guest list like this one before.”

What? Why? This is just supposed to be for the staff for Christ sake. Although it’s the first time they’ve taken over a restaurant, I thought.

Mia took a second look at me, “Are you sure you don’t know what’s going on? This party’s not just for the staff. There’s a lot of important clients here as well.”

Now it was my turn to look stunned, “Clients!” Then I took in the lobby, empty except for a second security guard and a woman sitting at a reception desk. The sound of music came from behind the closed double doors at the far side of the room.

“Yes, Rebecca, sorry Mrs. James, contacted us a couple of weeks ago to organize this after her father insisted she invite a select group of the firm’s clients. My brother is one of the firm’s associates, and he recommended my company to organize everything.”

Rebecca sure as hell hadn’t mentioned anything about adding clients to the guest list. In fact, she’d not mentioned anything. I had to wonder how long she’d known about the changes to the party and what else she hadn’t told me. I shrugged off my coat, and Mia asked the woman at the desk to look after it and my bag.

“At least you’re wearing a suit,” she muttered.

I gave her an irritated look, resisting the ‘fuck you’ that pressed at my lips. Did she think I was some country bumpkin?

The main room of the restaurant had been given the fantasy Christmas decoration, once over. A large Christmas tree dominated the room. A dozen or so large indoor palms had twinkling fairy lights wound around their trunks. The majority of the tables had been moved to one side of the room, leaving a space for the couples dancing in front of a low stage. There was a live group playing, that was the source of the music I’d been hearing. Obviously, the dinner was over as the tables held only the remnants of a meal. Empty dessert plates, coffee cups, bottles of wine and glasses were scattered about.

As I glanced around the room, I was able to recognize several of Rebecca’s high profile clients from the newspapers. Rebecca was usually fairly reticent about naming the firm’s clients, so I was quite surprised to see who some were. Then I spotted an unwelcome face, that of Roger Donaldson. With a sinking feeling, I thought that if he was here, then there was a good chance that Marcus was as well. Was that why Rebecca hadn’t mentioned the additions to the guest list, she was here with him!

My eyes went on overtime as I scanned the dimly lit room. There was no sign of Marcus, but far more worryingly, nor could I see Rebecca. I spotted her father at a table and hurried over.

He gave me a shocked look when he saw me. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Rome, Michael!” He didn’t sound pleased to see me, and that irritated me.

“And it’s nice to see you, too,” I responded sarcastically.

He blinked at me, “Rebecca was sure you wouldn’t be here,” he said in his defense.

“Well if you hadn’t changed the date it wouldn’t have been an issue,” I replied. “I didn’t think I would be here, but I managed to finish my trip sooner than I’d thought. I got back a couple of hours ago. I left a message with Bec’s assistant that I’d be here, didn’t she let you know? I’d have been here a couple of hours ago if it hadn’t been for the bloody French air traffic controllers.”

I looked around. “Have you seen Rebecca; she’s not answering her phone?”

“She was around a few minute ago, she and Marcus were talking.”

Crap, the last thing I wanted to hear. I tried calling her phone, and again it went to voice mail.

“Don’t worry, she’s fine,” Conrad said, but there was something about the way his eyes flicked around the room as he spoke that made me nervous. “Sit down, Mike and have a drink. Have you eaten; I can see if they can rustle something up for you.” He placed a hand on my arm and tried to pull me down to a seat beside him.

There was a lull in the music, and from the other side of Conrad, I heard Roger say to him. “What the hell is he doing here, you said he wouldn’t be here.”

Conrad glanced at him and then said to me, “Sit down for God’s sake; she’ll be somewhere close. If she hasn’t turned up in a few minutes, I’ll send one of the juniors to find her.”

He gestured in Mia’s direction, and she came over. “Have you seen my daughter?” he asked her

She shook her head, “Sorry no, not recently; I know that she’s around.” she replied, but her eyes never left mine as she spoke.

Conrad said, “Could you see if you can find her. Please let her know her husband is here.”

She gave him a worried look and agreed.

Why was I getting the strong impression he didn’t want me wandering around the room looking for her. Well fuck him I thought, and I turned back to my scrutiny of the large room.

I saw Mia stop a waitress and speak to her. The girl hesitated and then gestured towards the far side of the room. Mia hurried across the room and disappearing behind a pair of large potted palms that I recalled shielded the entrance to one of the private dining rooms. I guessed she thought she knew where Rebecca was. I followed, but then I paused when I reached the plants. If she wasn’t with Marcus and was in a legitimate conversation with another of the firm’s clients and I went in heavy-handed, it would be embarrassing for both of us. I heard voices and listened.

The first was Mia, “Rebecca, can I have a word with you in private.”

“Can’t you see I’m a bit busy, isn’t it something you deal with it?” Rebecca said.

“It’s urgent; your father sent me to get you,” Mia stressed.

The urgency in Mia’s voice must have convinced her because she said. “Marcus, can you be a darling and see if you can find me a drink? Tell you what see if you can find a bottle of champagne. I’m in the mood for some bubbles.” I heard Marcus reply, but I couldn’t make out all of his words. I did hear the last sentence as he left, and I felt my face redden in anger.

“Okay, but I want a kiss and another of those dances when I get back.” There was a sound of a giggle, and I saw a figure exit the room.

“So, what’s so urgent?” Rebecca said a moment later.

“Rebecca, what’s going on?” Mia asked. “I thought the guy you just sent away was your husband, at least he sure acts like he is, but he isn’t is he?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no he’s just a good friend. Why all the fuss, why is my father looking for me? He knows I’m with Marcus.”

How long had he been a good friend of Rebecca’s? The implication of that statement sent a cold shiver down my spine, and it sounded it was worse than that. I’d obviously gotten complacent these last couple of months.

“It’s not my business,” she agreed. “Only he’s not your husband is he? Your real husband is here. He’s just arrived, and he’s one very pissed off camper. You forgot to tell him he needed an invite. Security wouldn’t let him in.”

“Fuck, Mike can’t be here, he’s supposed to be in Rome. Is he still outside?

“No, his name is on the guest list, and he showed identification, so I had to let him in.”

“He wouldn’t have known he needed an invite. If he’d been here, he’d have arrived with me so he wouldn’t have needed one. Are you sure it’s him? Oh crap, Mike’s going to be so pissed at me if he finds out Marcus is here; he can’t stand him.”

“It’s him; Pete said he was trying to call you while he was waiting outside.”

I was frozen to the spot, I wanted to go and confront her, but I couldn’t get my legs to cooperate. I also thought I’d get a better idea of how far their relationship had gone without the expected evasions I anticipated when I confronted them. There was a brief pause from their side of the plants; then I heard the snap of a bag opening.

Rebecca hissed, “Oh crap, I left it on silent. There are several missed calls from him. Shit, shit, and I didn’t read the message she left for me, he was on a flight this afternoon.”

“Oh, well he’s sure as hell surprised to find out that this isn’t a cozy little office party, and your father has told him that you are with Marcus.”

“Why would he do that? Shit, Mike was on a trip when Dad started inviting the clients,” came Rebecca’s anxious voice. “With everything that’s been going on, I forgot to tell him. Then there was no way I was going to tell him that Marcus was one of the guests after I found out he couldn’t make it.”

My anxiety increased at the next voice I heard.

“Darling, I managed to liberate a bottle,” said Marcus. “ I only brought two glasses, let’s find somewhere quiet to drink this excellent bottle. Then I want that kiss and dance you promised me.”

That was it; I’d had enough of this bullshit. I moved around the plants and into the doorway so that they could see me. Marcus was in the process of sliding his arm around Rebecca’s waist, and she was pushing it away. She blanched and gasped. A bit of an overreaction I thought, as she’d just been told I was here.

She was wearing a dress I’d never seen before, a dark blue knit, figure-hugging version of the classic little black dress. A shorter dress than she usually wore, with a plunging neckline, the hem not reaching mid-thigh. Her legs were clad in shimmery black tights or were they stockings, I couldn’t tell. A sexy, sensual outfit, one she obviously wasn’t wearing for my benefit. Marcus quickly stepped away from her, placing Mia between us.

“That’s just fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “Bec’s darling and I will only need the two glasses. It looks like we have a lot to talk about so now fuck off home, Marcus, and leave the bottle. I don’t want to see you near my wife ever again. You are going to need to find someone else to keep you out of jail as she is off your case.”

I stepped towards him, and he flinched back. Marcus stepped back even further at the anger in my voice. Rebecca gave me a scared look. Mia touched a finger to her ear and said, “Security I...”

 
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