The place was beginning to fill up with the after- work crowd. The noise level had risen and people jostled each other at the bar, yelling out their drink orders. In a back booth a man and a woman sat across from each other, nursing their second (or was it third?) martini. Angela Rizzo was a dark haired beauty in her early 40s, but with a bitter twist to her mouth as she looked at the front door.
"God damn that bitch. Here she comes waltzing in with hubby at her heels. Mrs. fuckin' goody two shoes," she snarled.
Carl Crowe, her drinking partner, raised his eyebrows and directed his gaze to the front of the room. "You mean Lily Palmer? What do you have against her?" Carl brought his glass up and sipped a bit of his drink.
Angie looked up at the tall, dark haired man seated across from her and hissed, "she's the one who almost wrecked my marriage. I'm almost sure that she got the word to Frank that I was having an affair and the bastard threatened to divorce me." The venom almost dripped from her lips.
Carl laughed softly at his friend. "Shit, Angie. Why blame her? If you hadn't cheated you wouldn't have had this problem. You knew it was just a matter of time, you were kind of blatant about it."
Angie pouted and whined, "It's easy for you to say, Carl. I know you screw around on Fran and you get away with it."
"That's because I'm damned careful, cupcake. The only mistake I made is letting it slip to you, so you had better just keep your mouth shut. Anyway, you have little contact with Lily; she's in Human Resources and you're in Graphics so you don't have to interact with her all that often. Just forget it." Carl raised the glass to his lips and drained it.
Angie's lips tightened, "Yeah, and the bitch just got a promotion; she's now Assistant Director of Human Resources. She's got to be screwing Doug Collins."
Carl laughed again. "Calm down, Angie. Not everyone is screwing around, you know. I, at least, have a good reason. My wife is almost never home and there's a ton of pussy around when I'm on the road. Besides, I wouldn't be surprised if she's getting her share when she has to travel for a "conference."
Angie stared at him. "You mean you don't care if she cheats on you? Damn, I should have married you."
"Our marriage is an intelligent union, Ang. It's kind of like an open marriage, but with no discussion. If we don't talk about it, it's not happening and I'm happy with that. Fran needs a little release, she works hard and I don't begrudge her that. What the hell, it's only sex," chuckled Carl.
Angie just shook her head. "Shit, I wish Frank felt that way. It's just that he's so bad in bed."
"Awww, poor Angie," Car smirked. "What, his dick is too little?"
Angie just grimaced. "You know better than that, Carl. Don't go believing all that shit about dick size, it really isn't all that important. Frank is quite adequate at almost six inches. It's just that he's a 'wham bam, thank you ma'am' kind of guy. He doesn't give a damn about me. Most of the time I never even have an orgasm with him. Shit, I don't know why I love the jackass" She paused briefly, "Anyway, I just wish I could get back at the bitch," she muttered as she glared across the room.
Carl followed her gaze, his mouth tightening "You're not the only one, Angie. You know that Palmer just picked up the Packard account - one that should have gone to me. The fucker will now be pulling in big bucks, well into six figures. He's got to be kissing someone's ass, Plus, he's fucking one sexy broad. I tried to come on to Lily at the last company get-together and she almost went ballistic. Shit, she's got one bitch of a temper," he concluded bitterly.
It was now Angie's turn to laugh. "I thought that you were buddies with Scott. You play golf with him and two other guys every weekend."
"Yeah, but we're not close. The golf is just a game of convenience. They needed a fourth and Scott knew that I'm a scratch player, so he asked me to join the group. He's too fuckin' perfect. You know, perfect job, perfect wife, perfect life. He's even obsessive about exercising, you know, he wants a perfect body. He's also nuts about his wife, he even has a tattoo of a lily on his butt."
Angie's eyes widened. "You've gotta be kidding. Perfect Scotty boy has a tattoo? That's a riot. I bet that Lily talked him into that - kinda like putting a brand on him," she laughed.
"Yeah, I first saw it when we all showered after a golf game. He was showing it off... you know, proud of it." Carl shook his head in disgust.
Angie's eyes had narrowed and she was quiet for a moment, than leaned forward and lowered her voice. "You know, Carl. I have an idea how we can really screw them up. Really screw up their 'perfect" lives'. Now just be quiet and listen..."
Lily and Scott Palmer had it all. Even those who weren't overly fond of the couple had to admit that they were perfect for each other. They had met in college and after their first kiss they knew that they were meant to be together forever.
After graduation Scott gained employment with the largest advertising agency on the east coast. He had majored in Management and Marketing in college and was primed to join the sales staff as an account executive. It wasn't entirely a coincidence that Lily had been offered a position in the same company in their Human Resources Department. The fact that her father was a director on the board didn't exactly hamper their chances for employment there.
Six months after joining the company they married. It was a blow-out affair with a guest list out of the social register. Scott's older brother Marc, a Lieutenant of Detectives on the local police force acted as his best man and Lily's older sister Claire was the Matron of Honor. After the honeymoon they settled into a modest five bedroom, four bath cottage with a three car garage, a swimming pool and a single tennis court. It would have been pretentious to have put in a double court, after all they were just starting out.
They were also alike in that they were both gorgeous physical specimens. Scott was dark haired, tall with a beautifully sculpted body. Lily was another story; it appeared as if she had stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine, a very expensive fashion magazine. She was blond, blue eyed and above average height with a slender, willowy figure that belied the rather impressive breasts that strained whatever garment she happened to have on.
While their love for each other was obvious, their relationship could only be described as tumultuous. While Scott was a laid back, easy going sort, Lily was another story. While innately kind and giving, she did have a fiery personality. Lily was fortunate in that her close friends were used to her outbursts and had learned to accept, or at least tolerate, them. Lily was also smart enough to recognize the danger inherent in a "loose cannon" and made sure that she was nothing but professional at her job.
Unfortunately, Scott never knew, from day to day, just what he would find at home. Would it be the kind and loving wife he adored, or would he have to face a raging harridan. Luckily, her bad days did not occur too often, but every few weeks he knew that there would be trouble. It seems that it didn't take much to set Lily off; the problem was that he never knew when that would happen. A minor problem that she would just shrug off most days, would result in an emotional storm another time. It was like living with an active volcano, never being sure when the eruption would come. It was that temper that fueled the calamity that befell them.
A cloudy and blustery Saturday a few weeks later saw Carl Crowe in Angie Rizzo's graphic office at work with her drawing materials strewn over her table and desk.
"Okay, Carl. I have to be near the phone. I told Frank that I had some work to clear up and he expects me to be here. Shit, he's called me twice already. He doesn't trust anything I tell him."
Carl laughed as he doodled on the drawing pad that Lily had presented to him. "Poor Frank, he's a lawyer, but so easy to fool. You know that he's nuts about you, Ang. That's why he's still with you. Anyway, here's the drawing."
Angie mouth twisted with disgust as she viewed Carl's drawing. "Damn it, Carl. You can't draw worth a shit," she complained. "That's the lousiest sketch I've ever seen."
"What do you want from me, Ang. I can't draw, big deal. This whole thing is your idea so come up with another solution to my lousy drawing," answered Carl crossly.
"Wait, wait," Angie replied excitedly. "Let me get some clip art down. I know that we have a book of flowers." Angie started to rummage through the volumes on a back shelf off her office. " Here it is, let me leaf through this. Aha, here we go - a lily. Now, is this like the one on Scott's butt?"
"Bingo, you've got it. That's exactly like it, except his is in color, not black and white."
"Not to worry, sweetie. I'll do the color. Just give me the size of that tattoo as close as you can and we'll get started," smiled Angie.
"One inch, Ang. Scott even told us how big it was. He would brag, 'one inch, guys. I've got a one inch Lily right here' and then he'd laugh, the dumb schmuck," Carl told her.
"Okay, one inch," repeated Angie. "Now get your pants and shorts off and let me get started. I've got all the materials right here." With that Carl did as he was told and removed his slacks and undershorts, standing there without a trace of embarrassment.
"Turn around, Carl. I'm not going to draw on your dick," laughed Angie.
.... There is more of this story ...