something. How many times, Richard?”
“How many—”
“Times. How many times have you cheated on me?” Although she was well aware of the white-hot rage that broiled under her skin, Olivia tucked it away to deal with later. She spoke without emotion, pretending she was in court, examining a witness. “I assume there have been others. Come on, Richard. This is the time for honesty. How many times?”
He stared at her, his surprise replaced by irritation.
“How. Many. Times?”
Sighing loudly, Richard shook his head. “Men have needs, Liv. Don’t take it personally. In Europe, it’s an accepted practice.”
“Get out of my house,” Olivia said, her voice flat and dull as stagnant water. “I’ve packed your suitcases. They’re by the front door. You can get your other things when it’s convenient.”
“I don’t take orders from you, Liv. I don’t take orders from anyone. And this isn’t your house.”
“Get. Out. Of. My. House.” Without thinking, Olivia moved to the fireplace, grabbed the poker, and brandished it at Richard.
Raising his hands, he backed away. “Olivia, you need to calm down.”
“I could bash your head in right now and happily go to prison. Get the hell out of my house.”
His fear turned to rage as he stared at her, his eyes running over her tattered jeans, her makeup-free face. Angry blotches of red bloomed on his face as he pushed past her, grabbed his suitcases and walked out the front door, away from their marriage, away from their life together. Olivia once heard someone say the best way to make God laugh was to make plans. Oh, what grand plans she’d had! And now they were gone, obliterated.
After the locksmith left, she made herself a large cup of chamomile tea and, bundled up in warm clothes, took the steaming mug out into the garden. It was pitch dark on the sloping hill behind her house, but Olivia knew the footpaths – she had built them, after all – and didn’t need light to find her way to the gazebo at the bottom of the hill. The hot tea tasted good, comforting as an old friend, as she sat in the dark in the garden she loved.
She stayed outside for hours, impervious to the cold, and reflected on her marriage. Over the years Olivia had tried to create a social life for Richard and herself. She had made friends with other couples, tried to host dinner parties and social gatherings. But more often than not, Richard had ended up canceling at the last minute, using his litigation schedule as an excuse, leaving Olivia to host their social functions alone. This had happened so many times, Olivia had stopped trying.
Most women – Olivia reluctantly acknowledged – would have left Richard years ago. But Olivia had believed she understood Richard and his focus on his career. She had believed in their marriage and saw this cycle of waiting, disappointment, forgiveness as proof of her loyalty towards him. In her mind, this loneliness, this waiting for Richard to take his place by her side, was a condition of their union. Like a fool, she had accepted it because at the end of the day, she had loved her husband and the idea of a family.
Had Richard ever loved her? How smug he had been when he had confessed his infidelity to her, almost as if it were a mark of his masculinity. With a wave of sadness, Olivia realized there would be no more waiting for Richard. Her marriage was over. And much to Olivia’s surprise, underneath the pain, she was overcome with a tangible sense of relief.
Richard threw his suitcases in the trunk of his car and squealed down the road, away from the house he had shared with Olivia. The memory of the smug look on her face as she issued her ridiculous ultimatum infuriated him. How dare she? Speeding up as he hit a hairpin turn, he nearly collided with another car. Forcing himself to slow down, when he got to the bottom of the hill he pulled over, put his car in park, and took a moment to get his head straight. Who had put a camera in his bedroom? Although he was furious with Olivia, he knew she would never spy on him. No. If Olivia had suspected him of infidelity, she would have confronted him about it. And because she was so intuitive, she would have gleaned the answer before Richard opened his mouth to utter it.
Either that, he reasoned, or she knew that he had taken lovers over the years and had deliberately chosen to look the other way. Didn’t all spouses know when the other had strayed? Did it matter? Monogamous relationships, as far as Richard was concerned, were a bit of a joke. How could any man be expected to sleep with one woman for time immemorial?
Sandy didn’t hide the camera, of that Richard was certain. Sandy was a simple-minded, hardworking young woman who wanted to make a good life for herself. A good secretary to him. A passionate lover. They’d had fun together. He had told her he loved her, and had even promised to marry her. But he hadn’t meant it. Surely Sandy knew that. Anyway, he hadn’t heard from Sandy since he’d last seen her at the office. He’d been relieved. With Olivia’s birthday coming up it had been easier not to deal with her. But now that he’d seen that video, he worried.
Like all men in his position, Richard had enemies. He could think of ten lawyers who would do anything to get their hands on Rincon Sinclair’s biggest client – Countryside, Inc. – a medical malpractice insurance company that was responsible for eighty-five percent of his firm’s revenue. Countryside took pride in its conservative values. If Countryside’s CEO, Beth Musselwhite got wind of the video, Rincon Sinclair would be finished. Richard was smart enough to know how far he could fall. He needed damage control. He’d best put things in place before they got too bad. He took out his phone and hit number 1 on his speed dial. Wendy Betters answered on the first ring.
“Richard? I didn’t get a chance to speak to you at the party. It went beautifully, I thought—”
“Has anyone heard from Sandy?”
“No. And it’s not like her not to call if she was going to miss work,” Wendy said.
Where the hell is she? Richard had been busy all week and hadn’t given Sandy much thought. She was good like that, leaving him alone when he was off doing his own thing.
“Can I speak freely?” Wendy asked.
Richard’s heart skipped a beat at the serious tone of Wendy’s voice. What now?
“Andrew and I reckoned that you and Sandy had argued and stopped seeing each other, and that was the reason for Sandy skipping work.”
So they knew of the affair. The realization shocked Richard. Hadn’t he and Sandy been discreet?
“It was obvious from the way you two acted around each other. Neither Andrew nor I wanted to say anything. Do you think we should call the police?”
“No, but call Sandy’s mother and tell her what’s going on. Who knows, maybe Sandy is at her house.”
“Good idea,” Wendy said.
Richard wondered if Sandy had filmed them having sex after all. Had she disappeared so she could blackmail him? If so, she would have wanted money before she sent the video to Olivia. The only logical explanation was another firm, eager for the Countryside business and willing to do anything to get it, had set Richard up. If that were the case, it was only a matter of time before that video would find its way to Beth Musselwhite’s inbox, just as it had wound up in Olivia’s.
“Richard? What’s wrong?”
“Listen. We have a problem.” Richard spoke freely to Wendy. He had hired her while she was in college, and she had worked for his firm ever since. When she graduated from law school, she was promoted to managing attorney. Although she worked for both Richard and Andrew, he knew that Wendy was loyal to him. He trusted her implicitly. “Someone put a camera in my studio apartment and there’s a video of Sandy and me having sex. My wife received a copy of it today.”
“So that’s what was