Attorney Olivia Taylor was one of the first people to meet Douglas Chapel. She was introduced by the head of GE Schenectady’s Administrative Offices. At first sight of the tall, very handsome executive, Olivia had a personal attraction that took all her professional poise to suppress. She would have to work with him after all, and she was not the kind of woman who gushed over a man or openly flirted.

Douglas Chapel was the new chief of the real estate tax division of GE Schenectady. Oliva was a senior associate attorney in the corporate counsel’s office. The real property group was a separate, but associated office at GE Schenectady.

Doug wasn’t Oliva’s boss, and he wasn’t exactly above her in the corporate strata. However, he was a rising star, and one clearly destined for great advancement. He was also amazingly handsome and possessed of that unique set of personal attributes defined as “charisma.” His arrival sent a shock wave through the female staff of GE Schenectady from the women in the production plants to those in the executive suites. The legal division was mostly female staffed, at both the clerical and professional levels, it was particularly affected.

At first, Olivia paid the whispering and speculations among her female co-workers, only scant attention. It wasn’t that she was unaffected, but she simply refused to let herself go down that kind of path. As the rumors of Doug’s bedroom skills and his extraordinary endowment grew, she became more interested, notwithstanding her resolve. She watched her female associates, and even her own secretary, Julie Stevenson, shamelessly flirt with Doug Chapel, but Olivia resisted such silly female behavior. After all, she was an attorney and a married one at that. She had advanced enough in her career to have acquired a pretty side-hall colonial house in Delmar not far from the elementary school. This was a prelude to starting a family, which was something she and her husband, David, were discussing.

In her typical fashion, Olivia had put a good bit aside for the eventuality of children. She was a planner and meticulous in preparation for each of the defined stages of her life. To some, her marriage to David at the end of college and before law school might have seemed precipitous, but in fact, it was part of a carefully considered strategy. David began teaching middle school science while she went to law school. David put off his career ambition of becoming a marine biologist. He had envisioned himself living on a boat in a more southern climate. That was the kind of romantic dream David was prone to, and a substantial part of what endeared him to his more practical wife.

As their married life turned out, David enjoyed teaching, and in the last two years, he returned to graduate school nights and summers. However, with their two incomes, the couple were now well prepared for becoming parents. David’s dream would stay just that— a dream that was beached on the bank of the upper Hudson River.

Their dog, Buster, came along as the only unexpected wave in Olivia’s ordered existence. Buster was a rescue. Oliva’s husband, David, took his class to the animal shelter on a school trip. At the shelter, David discovered a forlorn little pup seemingly too ugly of form to be an easy adoption. But ever the romantic, David fell under the spell of two big brown eyes. David overlooked the awkward and ugly countenance of the Irish wolfhound and Saint Bernard mix and brought the newly christened Buster home to meet Olivia. She, at first sight, had had her doubts about this addition to their diminutive household, but it seemed a small compensation for the loss of a big dream.

The puppy grew into a monstrously large ugly dog that scared visitors, but only for a moment. Buster was an affectionate giant whose only threat was that he might lick you to death. Olivia had found herself loving the great beast almost as much as she loved her husband. They were two big lovable creatures who looked odd and fierce but were loving and beautiful within.

Olivia had a house, a dog, and a happy, contented marriage with the promise of children to come. Or at least, she did until Doug Chapel began his move on her. She was exactly his type, a pretty girl maturing into a more beautiful woman. She hadn’t yet lost the shyness and trepidation of her youth and still had that visage of innocence so appealing in a young bride. But most of all, she was holding herself away from him. To a man who enjoyed easy success with women, the ones he had to work for were always more desirable.

Entering Olivia’s office one afternoon, Doug said, “We need to do something about these triple net leases in the town of Colonie.”

He moved around Olivia’s desk until he was standing all but touching her. He had one arm over the back of her desk chair and the other pointing to the spreadsheet he had laid out on her desktop. GE Real Property Division had a substantial history of success fighting real property taxes. However, the town of Colonie was a formidable opponent. The town had significant commercial expansion dating back to the 1960s and had developed a vigorous defense of its assessments.

“What do you propose,” Olivia queried Doug.

She had turned in her chair as she said this, and it put her virtually between his arms. She was close enough to feel the heat of his body, and she felt his almost magnetic pull.

“I thought since, under the leases, we have the rights of the owners assigned to us that we file In Rem proceeding on the property assessments.”

“All of them?”

He looked her straight in the eyes as he responded, “Yes, all of them, I never like leaving anything unfinished.”

She could feel that he was talking about more than the leases, and it set off an excitement within her that was exhilarating and frightening at the same time.

“That’s a big undertaking. You will find there is a strong defense.”

“I find that a robust offense can always overcome the defense.”

Oliva began working on the tax cases with Doug. He hired the independent appraisers and did the initial tax protests, and Oliva began to prepare the In Rem petitions. (“In Rem” was Latin for “in the thing,” which, for these cases, was the real property. There is no action against a defendant only a request that the Court review the assessment.)

The town stood by its assessments, which were nearly all the standard one-hundred-fifty percent of value instead of the actual value the law required. Still, Oliva was required to do a lot of work preparing these cases for trial. Doug kept the work under his personal supervision, and that required him to have a lot of contact with Olivia.

He wasn’t kidding about putting forward a significant offense both in the tax cases and against Olivia’s resistance to his sexual advances. She fought hard, even though she wanted nothing more than to capitulate at his first advance. She was a normal woman with all the desires a woman can have but adding to her problem was her own inexperience.

Olivia had known no man sexually except her husband. He was her first, as she was his. In her plans, they would remain faithful to each other until death did them apart, but she couldn’t help wondering what another man would be like. She had no doubt that Doug was extraordinary in bed. There were several women in her own office who had allegedly warmed his sheets, including Olivia’s secretary, Julie, who had a two-month affair with Doug.

Julie actually bragged about her experiences with Doug and ended the liaison only when her husband became suspicious. Julie’s husband was not the type to tolerate or understand. Olivia wasn’t Julie, and although Olivia’s husband, David, was not the jealous type, his trust and unconditional love made it more difficult for Olivia to betray him. She was no cheater. Olivia would not go behind her husband’s back, but Doug was hard to resist, and deep inside, she knew she didn’t want to resist.

It was not like David was a slouch in the bedroom, but he was ordinary. Above-average height, below average looks, and averagely endowed where it counted. If you judged men by their character, David was a prince. He was certainly Olivia’s prince, and she had known that from their first meeting sitting next to each other in freshman biology. They just clicked on so many levels. She did love David, but there was something about Doug that made him irresistible.

True to his word, Doug put on a determined offense. He flirted shamelessly. He complemented her hair, shoes, her dress, and any little bit of jewelry or flash that she wore. If she were being honest with herself, Oliva would have recognized that, almost from Doug’s first appearance at the GE offices, she had been dressing differently. She stopped wearing pants to work. Her pinstriped lawyer’s suit jackets topped matching skirts that got tighter and shorter with the change of each season. Everything about Oliva began to change from the way she wore her hair (down not up) and her scent (Chanel not Guerlain) to the lacy tops of the stockings that replaced her pantyhose.

On the outside, Olivia, the tight-laced lawyer, resisted, but the sensual woman within was pushing to get out. Doug Chapel knew how to cut a woman’s laces. He suggested a working lunch, but off-campus where they could work without being disturbed—a drink after work came soon after the lunch.

“Just one,” he said. “You’ve earned it.”

A drink would lead to a late return home. At first, David was waiting with Buster, but as summer passed into fall, David was often gone. Working on his boat, he said. The first summer teaching, he had acquired a little Sunfish and learned to sail on Lake George. Eventually, David went to work summers at the Albany Yacht Club, earning little more than minimum wage. Oliva figured it kept some portion of his dreams alive. It added to the funds they were setting aside to start a family, a kind of baby fund.

Oliva couldn’t object that David was gone when she was so often late, but Buster was always there to greet her with a quizzical look, or was it an accusatory look? If Buster knew her inner conflict and how dangerously she was walking toward the edge, he couldn’t say. If David suspected, he was pretending not to notice. Things were clearly building towards a crescendo when the long New York winter set in with an October Ice storm.

David had been having what he would describe as an off-day. It wasn’t that he hated teaching. In fact, he enjoyed the challenge. It is a far more difficult profession than people realize. There is a tremendous amount of politics with a small “p.” You have to listen to the bullshit that the school administrators give you and then figure out how to do the job despite them. You have to deal with the machinations of your fellow teachers, listen to their complaints, and avoid getting involved in their personal lives and professional resentments. Then there are the parents who are either too involved in their children’s lives or too indifferent, for there is never a happy medium.

Finally, there is the job itself. David taught three classes of ninth-grade general science with an average of twenty-six students to a class, seventy-eight students in all. Year in and year out, they trouped through his class, ignorant of the physical world around them and concerned only with who was dating who, what their favorite pop star or rapper was doing, and most of all how they looked and were perceived by their fellow ninth graders.

He would be the first to admit that he had it easier than the English, Math, or —got forbid— social studies teachers. Science was a subject that could grab a student’s attention. Particularly if you caused a small explosion at the start of class. It was easy to get their attention, but harder to keep it, and in that way, he had the hardest job of all finding a way to convey the rules of the universe to the future builders and shapers of our society. He realized how dangerous for society an ignorance of science could be.

His was a responsibility complicated by the administrators, parents, politicians, religious leaders, and a grossly ignorant society that saw his job as simply to prepare his students to pass a series of standardized tests designed by the foolish for the ignorant. David had a job you could easily hate, but which he had come to embrace. Still, he was reaching a point where he was beginning to dread a future tied to a classroom. He longed for his lost dreams and sailed his little boat on the cold Hudson when the weather permitted.

Unfortunately, the weather was terrible that October day. Overlapping layers of cold and moisture in the atmosphere brought neither rain nor snow but sheets of ice that covered the roads, trees, and utility lines. By noon, an emergency declaration had closed the schools and most businesses. He knew that Olivia’s Audi was no match for this weather. So, he drove his old diesel Ford pickup over to get his wife. Her Audi could sit in the company lot overnight, and he would drive her safe home and back to work the following day.

David arrived at the GE Campus in Schenectady at mid-afternoon. He was expecting that he would need to drag Oliva out of her office early. He found most of the GE lots already empty, and he was surprised to see Olivia walking from her building. However, she wasn’t alone. There was a tall fellow walking beside her holding an umbrella in one hand while his other arm was clearly around Olivia’s waist. The way they were moving together spoke of a familiarity and a relationship that was more than two co-workers sharing an umbrella.

There are times when you observe a student struggling in a course. They are doing the work, but the point of the lesson is eluding them. One minute they are struggling and in the dark, and then their eyes light up, and they have it. Maybe it was something as the teacher you demonstrated or said, but more often, the insight is just there. A moment when all the disparate threads come together and understanding follows.

David had such a moment, but he wasn’t the teacher, his wife, Oliva, was. As she crossed a bit of icy pavement, Olivia leaned into the strange man she was walking with, putting her head to his chest and her arm firmly around him. It might have been the prudent act of a woman trying to avoid a fall, but her actions were far too comfortable. There was no hesitation. She was a married woman clinging to a man who was not her husband, but she showed no awkwardness or unease.

At that moment, David knew the meaning of all the little signs that he had seen, but not recognized until that instant. The way she had been dressing for work, the vague distracted manner she had been displaying at home for months, and her being seriously and consistently late in getting home. It should have been obvious before, but he had been unsuspecting. He had been naive and blinded by love. His first inclination was to drive away, but that wasn’t who he was. He turned his truck and pushed gently on the gas pedal bring his truck between the couple, beneath the umbrella, and the entrance to the parking lot.

Oliva and Doug looked up as the truck stopped blocking their way. Doug looked as if he would curse David out, but before he could, David rolled down the window and leaned out.

“Thought my wife could use a lift home,” David said.

He could see that the man holding the umbrella swallowed whatever expletives he was about to utter. Oliva just stood frozen, her mouth gaping open. David leaned out the truck’s window into the freezing rain. He looked his wife in the eyes and said, “Get in.”

There was a jagged tone of menace in his voice. Olivia extracted herself from Doug and scurried around the truck to open the passenger door and get in. As she did, David stared hard at Doug, who tried to smile back. When Olivia was firmly in the vehicle, David nodded to the man holding the umbrella and put the truck into drive.

The journey to their Delmar house would usually take about thirty minutes, but the inclement weather prolonged the trip to over an hour. It seemed a lot longer to the occupants of the truck’s cab. They traveled in silence until they turned onto the bypass in the town of Bethlehem. Moments from home, David poked the beehive.

“Were you ever going to tell me about him?” asked David, his voice barely a whisper.

Olivia was looking out the passenger window, and she did not turn to look at him. She contemplated denial, but then decided she had nothing to deny.

“No, because there is nothing to tell,” she said. “Doug is a co-worker. I like him, and he likes me.”

“You get that close to all your work friends?”

“No, of course not,” Oliva said and paused a moment before she went on. “Doug is something special to me. We are close in a way that is more than simple friendship.”

As his Ford turned up Delaware Avenue headed for Delmar Place and their little three-bedroom colonial house, David contemplated his wife’s statement.

“Just how far has this friendship gone with Mr. Umbrella?”

“His name is Doug—Douglas Chapel, he works in the real property office.”

“He’s just a co-worker then,” David said, framing his words with such sarcasm in his voice it was clear that he did not believe them.

They reached their driveway by this time and the side door to their home. Without answering David’s accusation, Oliva hopped out and rushed the few feet into the house. David pulled his truck into the garage before waking to the house. By the time he entered through the door into the kitchen, Olivia was upstairs in the master bedroom. Buster was waiting just inside the kitchen door for his walk. Despite the inclement weather, the man and his dog headed out. They walked to the elementary school and its open playing fields that were deserted in the icy rain.

The weather didn’t bother Buster. He seemed an animal designed for adversity. By the time the two returned, they were both soaked. They descended through the side door into the basement, where David threw his wet closes in the wash and removed clean ones from the dryer. Buster was shaking himself dry, but David helped him with an old beach towel he kept in the basement for this purpose. When the two ascended back upstairs to the kitchen, they found Oliva waiting in her terry-cloth robe and seated at the kitchen table with an open bottle of wine before her.

“We need to talk,” she declared, pouring wine into two glasses.

David took a seat at the table, but he didn’t sit across from her. He sat at the end so that she had to turn to look at him. It also allowed him to turn, so she was unable to directly see into his eyes.

Oliva’s tone was sweet but firm, “I want you to know that I love you and am very happy in our marriage,” she began. “But while nothing of a romantic nature has happened with Doug, it is fair to say we have a strong attraction to each other.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” David could feel his anger rising. It was fueled by more than pure jealousy. There was a deep resentment and sense of betrayal. Olivia was his only love. In truth, theirs was his first and only relationship. She was his first girl, and with her, he had found a sense of fulfillment and togetherness that filled a void in his life.

She was talking again, and something in the way she carefully phrased her words reminded him she was his wife, the lawyer. A woman who was loving and caring, but whose profession is to assemble words to a purpose.

“It means that we have a strong marriage, and I’m totally committed to it, “Olivia stated. “ I love you, but I’m no more able to control my every desire than you are. I’m a woman with all the physical limitations of my sex. We can’t help who we are attracted to. I have known no other man but you. That I’m tempted by Doug is a fact. I can’t deny it.”

“And?” he said. “Because there is something more, so say it.”

She sighed. “This isn’t easy. I’ve given it a great deal of thought, and I need to get Doug Chapel out of my system. It is too hard working with him every day and not knowing what he would be like.”

“LIKE,” he prompted.

“You’re the only man I’ve ever been to bed with. He is supposed to be spectacular. I can’t help being curious, and he’s let me know that he wants me. Yet, I haven’t even kissed him, and I won’t UNLESS...”

She let that last word hang in the air, but David had turned away while she was speaking, and with her last word, he rose and said, “Buster needs feeding.”

Olivia let the matter drop. She was caught between the love she had for her husband and the desire she had as a woman.

It had been three weeks since the ice storm. The climate had changed, and it was an unusually warm November. The weather seemed to become more unpredictable each year. There was a late-season Hurricane in the Caribbean, but between Oliva and David, there was a hard freeze. They had been barely speaking since the talk or rather Olivia’s monolog at the Kitchen table.

When Oliva returned to work after the storm, Doug had wanted to know what had happened with David.

He wasn’t violent? Doug asked. Was he?”

“No, he was shocked, I guess, and certainly hurt,” she replied. “He’s not a violent man.”

“Well, it seemed to me that he had murder in his eyes,” Doug claimed.

“No, he’s just hurt. I hurt him,” Oliva said as she walked away.

Doug was not a physically brave man, and David’s appearance belied his mild temperament. This was unlike Julie Stevenson’s husband Louis, whose short stature and slight build concealed a violent temper.