Chapter 2

Trent didn’t say much on the drive home. He seemed preoccupied.

Britni wasn’t 100% sure she hadn’t just done a video striptease for him, and he was just messing with her by not acknowledging it, or that it was some stranger from the IT department who had pulled a fast one on her. If it was him pretending it was the IT guy, did she want to spoil his fantasy of some other guy seeing her naked? On the other hand, how could she ask him if he was playing a prank on her, without telling him she had been stupid enough to be tricked into stripping for some stranger if it hadn’t been him.

He was fast asleep by time she was done brushing her teeth so apparently, she wasn’t going to get any answers that night. The next morning, she woke up as he was getting out of the shower. After her shower and a quick breakfast, they headed off to work.

How do you start that conversation? “Uh. Hey. Was that really you last night?” It wasn’t as if she thought he might become violent. At least not towards her. She just felt so stupid. If it was him, why didn’t he say something? Was making her wonder if she’d exposed herself for some anonymous creep part of some kinky game he was playing? Like the time they went on vacation to Cancun, and he had replaced all of the bathing suits she had packed in her suitcase with some skimpy little piece of floss he expected her to wear on the beach and around the pool.

“Two can play at this game.” she thought. “If he’s not going to say anything, neither will I.”

Trent pulled up in front of her building and with a quick peck on the lips followed by “Love you/love you too” she jumped out and he sped off.

There was a note on her desk when she dropped off her purse. She read it on the way over to the coffee pot. “Please don’t leave at night without letting someone know. We need to lock up behind you. Thank you. ~ Greg (night janitor)”

She returned to her desk and fired up her laptop. While it was booting, she got herself situated. Having caught up the previous night, she knew the rest of the week was going to be nothing more than dotting the “I’s” and crossing the “T’s” but she had to check her messages to make sure there wasn’t anything new coming down the pipeline.

After reading the inner office memos, most of which didn’t pertain to her, she noticed the red dot with a 1 in it over the little mail ion. She had an e-mail.

Trent: “Good morning, Gorgeous! Wanna Facetime? Emoji”

She sat and stared at her computer monitor. Frozen in place. She moved her cursor over Trent’s name and sure enough, it was from his e-mail account. She finally snapped out of it. Britni: “Who is this?” and then waited for a reply. Trent: “Who do you think it is?” Britni: “Well, I thought I was having a conversation with my husband last night. Now I’m not so sure. Maybe I should call him. Just to make sure.”

She was reaching for her phone her phone when the next reply came. Trent: “Don’t do that. Let’s say for the moment that I am actually Trent. You’d be ruining my little fantasy game. You’ve got to admit, not knowing is kind of exciting. On the other hand. If I’m not Trent, I have a video of you undressing for me that clearly shows you were at work at the time. If you call to verify if I am indeed Trent and it’s not, Whoever I am could make sure that video and the screen captures I took make it to everyone where you work and everywhere he works. I could send them to everyone in your and his contacts list and your social media accounts.”

Britni: “So, you’re blackmailing me?” Trent: “Exciting. Isn’t it? Britni: “Ok. Now what? You going to make me sleep with you or something in exchange for not leaking that video?” Trent: “Nothing that drastic. Unless you ask me to, that is. Britni: “Not likely. So, what do you want?” Trent: “Take that new iPhone, go into a stall in the bathroom and open Messenger. e-mail takes too long.”

Her first thought was “Fuck you!” then she thought about it. If it wasn’t Trent, would whoever it is really leak the video? If it was Trent, what was the harm in a little role play? Problem was, she still wasn’t sure.

She took her phone and went down the hall to the lady’s room. Entering, she noticed all three stalls were empty, with the doors open. She stepped into the one at the far end, closed and locked the door, put the seat lid down and sat on the toilet. Going into her apps, she opened the Apple Messenger app. She didn’t know if she was supposed to initiate the conversation or wait for him to.

She was just about ready to call the whole thing off when the bubble popped up Trent: “You there?” Britni: “Yeah. I’m here. Don’t know why I’m here but I’m here. What am I supposed to be doing?” Trent: “I won’t keep you. I know you’re working. I just want three selfies from you.” Britni: “Three selfies? That’s it? I could have sent selfies from my cubicle.” Trent: “ Not these selfies. First, I want one of you that includes your blouse and face.” Britni: “Yeah. Uh, ... OK.”

Britni turned the camera on, extended her arm and took a picture. The photo cut off the top half of her head so she zoomed out as far as the camera would go and tried again. This time was much better. Her entire face with an inch or so of her hairline and the front of her blouse, about four buttons down from the collar. She sent it via messenger.