Chapter 2

It was a reception at the Rittenhouse Hotel, about 3 or 4 months ago, that I was first introduced to him. Kim was dressed in a clinging black dress that showed no line of bra or even panties. I had not seen her dress that evening, but I was a bit uneasy about her being there with nothing on under that garment. We had no sooner walked in then she pulled me toward this guy with rather long, greasy hair and introduced me.

Lavell shook my hand and I felt the pressure he was trying to exert, he was actually trying to cause me pain. I was startled and at that point realized that here was a grade A schmuck. It only took a second or two for his face to pale as I crushed his fingers and he pulled back quickly.

"Hi Kim," he almost sneered. "So this is the engineer," and he then laughed. My eyes flicked to Kim and I saw her color and quickly look away. Had they had a previous conversation about me and my profession, I wondered? Did Kim find my profession a cause for amusement? The evening went downhill quickly from that moment. After that somewhat contentious introduction I saw little of Kim. She seemed to be at Lavell's side the whole evening. His eyes would meet mine occasionally and he would then wrap his arm around Kim's waist possessively, almost daring me to object.

It's funny though, a week or so later she stopped talking about the project and was almost totally mum about Lavell. When I brought him up in conversation, Kim would wave her hand dismissively and change the subject. I thought it a bit strange. I now began to get a funny feeling in my gut. My face flushed as I realized what I was beginning to suspect. I laughed weakly and told myself not to become paranoid. That didn't help one bit.

Days passed and we went through the motions of marriage. Kim was obviously preoccupied and the attention she paid to me and our relationship was almost perfunctory. She was at home in body only. Had she even begun to realize that we hadn't made love in weeks?

It was about a week or so before our anniversary that I decided to leave work on time and I made my way to Crown Publishing. I thought that we would have dinner and discuss taking more time for ourselves. Maybe putting our jobs second for a change. Somehow I took the elevator to the executive floor, instead of the one below. I had just exited the elevator when I saw James Frost, the exec. VP.

He approached me and smiled. "Jerry, good to see you. It's been awhile," and he slapped me gently on the shoulder.

"Hi Jim," I replied. "I obviously got off on the wrong floor. I'm here to take my wife to dinner, hopefully. That is if she isn't still wrapped up in the Lavell thing."

"Oh, no. That's been over for a few weeks now. Paul's still staying in the VIP apartment upstairs, but the book's now at the printers and things are back to normal... Go grab Kim, she deserves a good dinner," he smiled and continued along the hall. I stood there, pensively, and then took the stairs down to the appropriate floor. I made my way to Kim's office and found her standing in the hall. She saw me and I saw a startled expression come to her eyes.

"Jerry, what are you doing here?" she blurted out.

"Hi Kim," I replied sweetly. "I thought it would be nice to have dinner out together this evening. It's been quite awhile and I thought we could spend some time together for a change."

I could see the flash of annoyance. "I can't, Jer. You know how busy I am with Paul's novel. Please be patient, this thing will be over soon, I promise. and our lives can get back to normal... I'll try to get home earlier tonight." She reached and patted me on the cheek, turned and went back into her office. I stood for a moment, then turned and left.

I saw that it was now almost 11. I guessed that Kim's statement about being home at 10 was like her other promises. I took the roses and tossed them, vase and all, into the trash can. I threw the earings into my desk drawer. I went to bed and lay there awake, wondering where my life was going. It was almost 1 a.m. when I heard the front door open. It didn't take long for Kim to undress and climb into bed, next to me. She smelled clean and fresh, as if from a recent shower. I feigned sleep. It was at that moment that I knew for certain that she was having an affair with Lavell. Yeah, I should have realized it before - I guess that I just didn't want to face it.

I did not get much sleep that night. I had no real proof of her adultery, but then again I really needed none. There was no one I had to convince and we didn't have huge assets to fight over. The divorce would be simple. But, by the same token, I didn't want to go off half cocked; I did want her infidelity to be known. I guess I was a little vindictive, I wanted everyone to know what she was.

I lay there and let my mind wander, back to the days when we first met, back to the months we first lived together. I had loved that Kim - no, I had adored her. Where had she gone? The tears came, wet my cheeks and ran to my pillow.

I was up very early the next morning. It was Saturday, but I headed out for the office. I wanted someplace where I could be alone, I needed to think. I needed to decide how to proceed. I knew that my marriage was over, but I wanted to be in charge of the steps that would end it. I wanted some evidence of my wife's infidelity. I knew that there was really no way I would be able to get the facts that I wanted. I knew what to do.

I was able to locate a private investigation firm that was literally next door to Van Horn Construction. I called and was able to set up an appointment with Marge DeMarco, one of the owners, for that very morning.

I took the elevator to the 8th floor and opened the door to the suite of offices. As I entered, a tall, slender woman of about 50 waved to me from her office across the reception area and motioned me in.

"I presume that you're Jerry Ford. I'm Marge DeMarco," and her handshake was firm and brief. She indicated a chair as she moved behind her desk.

"My presence here is fortuitous," she began. "Usually, no one is in on a weekend, unless we're working on something urgent. Please, just relax and tell me what you want us to do for you."

I told her of my suspicions and gave her all of the information that I had. When I told her of the VIP apartment at the publishing house, she grimaced.

"Jerry," she hesitated and then asked if she could address me so. I nodded. "Ok, Jerry. I get the drift. Based on what you have told me, I would tend to agree that perhaps your suspicions may be correct. The problem, and it's a very big problem, is that VIP apartment. If your wife and this author are or were meeting there, it would be more than difficult for us to determine that. Whatever evidence we could garner would be illegally obtained and could not be used in any court of law."

I interrupted her. "Marge, I don't give a rat's ass about the legality of the evidence. I just want to confirm what I already think I know. My so called "suspicions" are really more than that. I just know that my wife is, or at least has been, unfaithful. I just want that confirmed.

She sat and looked at me with what seemed to be a bit of pity. "Ok, Jerry. Give us a couple of weeks and we'll try to get as much as we can. This could be difficult and I want you to be prepared if we tell you that we couldn't get what you want. Here's a packet of information concerning our company, the fees we charge and a copy of the standard contract. Look it over, sign the contact and mail it back with a check. We'll start on Monday and get back to you as soon as we can. Okay?"

I again nodded, shook her hand and left. It was now going on noon and I decided to head home. I felt a skosh better, at least I had taken a course of action. I didn't feel like such a victim any longer.

When I walked into our apartment I immediately saw Kim standing in the doorway of the kitchen. (Wow, I wasn't sure that she even knew we had one.) Her eyes were blazing and she wasted no time in giving me both barrels.

"Goddamnit, Jerry, Where the fuck did you go? Do you even remember that it's our anniversary today? Did you even remember to get me a shitty card, at least? Did you even remember to make at least some small gesture?"

I just stood and looked at her. I guess she figured that a good offense was the way to go. "Kimberly," I replied calmly. "Today is the 11th, our anniversary is the 10th, which was yesterday. The roses I got you are outside in the trash can, I had to cancel our dinner reservations, and if you want to root through the junk in my desk, maybe you can find the present that I had gotten for you. I imagine that what you had to do last night was more important, especially since it necessitated staying until almost 1:00 a.m."

She just stood and now looked a bit frightened, her eyes darting everywhere, afraid to meet my steady gaze. She had paled, but I could see her trying to pull herself together.

"I'm sorry, Jer," she finally managed. She moved to the sofa and sat, shaking her head. "I don't know where I am half the time. This campaign has gotten me really frazzled." She looked up at me, imploring me to understand. "It's over, Jerry. The campaign is finally over. Please, let's try to forget the past couple of months and really work on our marriage."

Yeah, like I was really going to forget. What she didn't know was that I knew that the project had ended long before. Shit, the guilt was written all over her face. I don't know how I managed not to gag. I didn't exacerbate the situation, but the tension was palpable and it didn't dissipate much during the week. Again, we were going through the motions.

But, there were no more late night meetings. Kim was home every evening around 5 or a few minutes after. It looked like her little adventure with Lavell had ended. You know what, I didn't give a shit; the damage was already done. I could see that Kim was really trying to get our marriage back on track. I thought that I could see the regret and worry surface now and then. As far as I was concerned, it was too late. Was I too proud, too stubborn? Should I have made more of an attempt to save my marriage? Maybe, but her adultery, her betrayal just ate at my guts. The trust which was the foundation of any marriage, was gone. How could I ever trust her again? How could I ever forget? Could I ever forgive her? Who knows - but I knew that I could not forget, and the knowledge of what she had done to us guaranteed the end. Our marriage had become a charade.

A few days later I got a call from Ben Klein. We had kept in touch and called each other periodically. "Jerry, did you give any thought to my suggestion about moving our here? The opportunities are unlimited and we sure could use another good electrical engineer." Ben had been trying to get me to move for awhile now. Maybe now I should give it some thought. I had dismissed the suggestion previously.

"It's an idea, Ben. I'm not sure right now, but maybe we can talk about it again sometime, okay?" I left it dangling. Ben started to get excited, but I told him that it's just a firm maybe.

A few days later, Marge DeMarco called me at work and asked me to drop by. I sat by her desk and refused a glass of water or a cup of coffee. Marge began: "Jerry, I have some news, but I don't know if you'll be happy or not. I called you in early, before the two week period I had requested, because we have come to a dead-end. Our investigation has shown nothing that can confirm your suspicions. That's why I don't have a full, written report for you. If I attempted to put down on paper what we have discovered, there would be little there and what there would be would be innocuous. Thus, I am refunding to you a portion of our fee. The only significant information I can give you is the result of our inquiries into Paul Lavell's background. It looks like he's quite the womanizer. There have been three sexual harassments complaints against him, all settled before they went to court, and it also appears that at least two divorces can be chalked up him. It looks like he's a really nasty character. I'm sorry that we couldn't be of more help to you."

I was disappointed but resigned. I guess I really didn't expect them to be too successful. Okay, I would proceed without the evidence I wanted. It wasn't really necessary, I guess I just wanted some payback. I called John Kramer, an attorney I knew slightly, and was told that he was out of town, but would be returning in about ten days. I made an appointment to see him. It was time to get this over with. In the meantime, Kim and I just tiptoed around each other.

The surprise came a couple of days before my appointment with Kramer. I had just come home from work and had hung my jacket on the back of a chair when Kim rushed into the house, breathless and obviously agitated. Her movements seemed almost manic, her laughter brittle.

"Jerry, Jerry, please sit down. I have to talk to you," she blurted. "I know we didn't want children, but I'm pregnant. We're going to be parents, Jerry. Oh, honey, this can be so wonderful. You're going to be a father. Please don't be angry, Jerry. Please be happy for us," and she looked at me, anxiety written all over her face.

I was stunned, absolutely flabbergasted. I really couldn't even think for a couple of seconds. Then the absurdity of it hit me, the irony. Kim was always careless about taking her birth control pills and she got caught, Lavell had impregnated her. And here she was, trying to make me believe that the child was mine.

I was enraged; I think that I really hated her at that moment. She had made me a cuckold and now she was trying to make me believe that the child was mine. Strong emotions tore at me. I suddenly felt devastated, a sense of extreme loss almost overcame me, which overrode the anger. I was losing control as I rode an emotional roller coaster. And then... nothing. I felt nothing, as if something had died inside of me. I felt a vast emptiness, a hollowness, a coldness that pervaded my soul. I just didn't care anymore, I just wanted it over.

"I'll be out of here as soon as I pack a few things. I'll get the rest of my stuff later, when you're not here," I said dully.

Kim sat and I saw her eyes fill with unshed tears. She knew that the game was over and she lowered her head and a sob caught in her throat. "I'm sorry, Jerry. You don't know how sorry I am,"

I was curious, I wondered why it had gone so wrong. Was it an inherent flaw in her character? Was it me? "Why Kim? Was our marriage so unimportant to you?" My voice was soft, I did not yell.

Kim looked up at me, her eyes watery. "Why? I asked myself that question again and again. I'm not sure; maybe it was the excitement, the glamor, the thrill of being in a spotlight with famous people. Stupid reasons, I have no excuses. I was weak, foolish. I allowed myself to be seduced, not only by Paul, but by the job, that environment. I didn't realize the hole I was digging for myself until it was too late."

The tears were streaming down her cheeks. "Jerry, I'm so ashamed, ashamed at what I have done and so ashamed about what I just did - lying to you about being the father of the baby. That was despicable. I was just so terrified. I am truly sorry about that, Jerry. You didn't deserve that; you didn't deserve any of this."

Her eyes dropped to her lap. "Is there anyway... ?" she asked dully. She knew what the answer would be.

I interrupted her. "No," I replied, emotionless. "I have an appointment with my attorney. I suggest you get a lawyer. We'll split what we have. The divorce should go through without any problems."

I rose, went into the bedroom and packed a bag. Walking to the door, I saw that Kim was still sitting there, her head down, sobbing softly. I left.

One of the hardest things I've ever had to do was to confront Bernie Van Horn and tell him that I was divorcing his daughter and handing in my resignation.

"Goddamnit, Jerry, Why? Why? At least tell me why. Haven't I treated you well? You're like a son to me; why are you doing this?" Bernie had tears in his eyes and I had to swallow a lump in my throat.

"Bernie, please," I managed to get out. "I can't give you the details, I really can't. I imagine Kim will explain everything to you. I really have little choice, Bernie. And you're right - you have been like a second father to me and I'll never be able to repay you for your faith and trust in me. I wish I can explain everything, but I just can't, I can't." I felt myself losing control again and I stopped, unable to continue. I just couldn't tell him that his daughter had been unfaithful and was carrying someone else's child.

Bernie saw my distress and I thought I saw a flash of understanding and sympathy in his eyes. He came over to me and put his hand on my shoulder. "Okay, Jerry. You don't have to say any more. Get a hold of yourself. Maybe I understand more than you think. Do what you think you have to do, but you have to promise that you'll let me help you however and whenever I can. Okay?."

I nodded, rose and left his office.

I spent the next week at a Hilton in town, trying to get my head around all that had happened to me. When all was said and done, there really wasn't a lot to think about. I instituted divorce proceedings, I knew that it wouldn't be contested. I took a cold, hard look at my circumstances and realized that there really wasn't anything left for me here. My wife and in-laws were now in my past and my folks had moved to Florida. I made up my mind and called Ben Klein. I was on a plane bound for LA within a week.

Ben had submitted my resume to his company and I was on the job a few days after my arrival in Los Angles. I stayed with Ben and his wife Rachael for a couple of weeks until I was able to find an apartment near to the job. Ben had married about the same time I did and he found a winner. Rachael didn't know me from Adam, but we had talked a few times over the phone when Ben called or I had phoned him. She was warm and couldn't have been more friendly and welcoming. She, as much as Ben, made me always feel wanted in their home - more then welcome it turned out. She was about 5" 3" inches tall and built beautifully with dark hair and flashing brown eyes. She slowly joined my very small list of very special friends. I was happy for Ben and for Rach also.

So the weeks passed by. I immersed myself in the work. Thank goodness for my work, it kept me from agonizing about the destruction of my marriage and my longing for Kim, at least during the day. The nights were hellish and my sleep was filled with dark dreams and "could have beens." Sometimes I would drink myself into oblivion and then let my anger rise to the surface. I would smash a few things against the wall and then pass out on the sofa. I wanted my wife back - not the one I had divorced, but the one I had met and married.

Was Kim's infidelity at least partially my fault? Should I have stayed and tried to work things out? Was I being cowardly for running away? I had given those questions hours and hours of thought and I came to the realization that I wasn't that strong. I couldn't forgive her betrayal and I knew that I couldn't accept the child - the child that would always be a reminder of her adultery.

What kept me on a reasonably sane path most of the time was the companionship and friendship of Ben and Rachael. They were constantly after me to spend the weekend at their place, or come with them for a weekend of camping, or nagging me to accept a blind date in which they thought I may have some interest. I managed to avoid the attempts at dating, but I did spend quite a bit of time with them at their house. Relaxing by their pool in the warm sun seemed to help my turmoil. It also gave me the opportunity to appreciate Rachael in her brief bikinis. Oh, they were relatively modest, but she did have a great figure. Nah, no wrong ideas - just normal male appreciation.

It was rather strange though. As the months passed, I would get a call every once in awhile from Bernie Van Horn. He was sensitive enough to never bring Kim up in our conversations, but was interested in what I was doing and how I was getting along. The strange thing was that I would also get a call now and then from, of all people, Katherine Van Horn. She seemed genuinely concerned about me and was warm and friendly on the phone. I was really happy that they both wanted to keep in touch.

But then things started to get a little weird at the Klein's. As I mentioned, both Ben and Rachael kept after me to come visit every chance they got, so I was over there during the weekends more often than not. It was almost like being with family - no, I take that back. It was like being with family, they were that close to me. And I did enjoy the private back lawn with the pool and patio.

But, as time passed, both Ben and Rachael became increasingly concerned about my lack of interest in dating or pursuing members of the opposite sex - you know, women. It wasn't as if I wanted to become a monk or anything, it was just that I really didn't have any interest. I guess the circumstances of the breakup of my marriage may have put me off looking for any type of relationship. Oh, I had the usual urges, but they were taken care of manually, so to speak.

But, Rachael's bikinis started to get briefer and briefer until it was almost embarrassing. Her latest was no more then three little triangles of material that could be stuffed in a shirt pocket. The top barely covered her nipples and the bottom was a brief triangle over her crotch and a string up her rear end. I gotta be truthful, it became difficult to hide my erection. Also, little encounters began to occur. I mean like when I would come out of the bathroom, she would be in the hall wearing only a very brief bra and panties, or sometimes just the panties. It really started to become uncomfortable for me. No way in hell would I every even dream of putting a move on Rach, I wasn't that much of a pig.

The strange encounters came to a head about four or five weeks after the appearance of the brief bikinis. It was a Saturday and Ben had excused himself to run to the store to get a case of beer. I had volunteered to go, but he had insisted I stay. I was again coming out of the bathroom after taking a leak, when I saw Rachael coming down the hall. She was wearing a short, silk robe which pretty well should have covered the vital parts, but the robe was wide open and she was naked under it. I almost twisted an ankle trying to turn around to avoid her. She came up to me, took me by the hand and commanded, "Come with me, Jerry. We need to talk."

"Rach," I stammered. "Please, tie that robe... please. Ben will be home soon. I don't want him getting wrong ideas." I realized that I was babbling, but she was leading me down the hall and out of the house to the patio.

"Don't worry about Ben, Jerry. He'll be back when I call and tell him to be back. In the meantime we need to have a conversation," she said calmly while sitting in a chair across from me, her robe totally open and her legs slightly apart. Her tits were staring me in the face and I could see the lips of her sex which were visible under her public hair.

"Jerry," she snapped. "Enough - stop feeling sorry for yourself. You're not the only guy in the world that got crapped on and you won't be the last. You can't avoid women the rest of your life and you can't get too friendly with your fist, if you know what I mean," and she colored slightly at that remark.

She put her hands under her breasts and lifted them slightly. "These are breasts, Jerry. Sometimes they're called tits or boobs or a million other names. All women have them and most men are very appreciative of them." She then pulled at her nipples. "These are nipples, Jerry. They get hard and erect when a woman is aroused. Did you know that?"