Slip of the Tongue

"Nothing, just let it lie for tonight, okay? I'll see you when I get home."

Then, I just hung up on her! That had never happened before but then again, I'd never known for sure that she was a cheating bitch.

I made copies of the pertinent portions of the tape. It wouldn't matter because they wouldn't have any effect in a court of law, but I'd need them for those moments late at night when I'd try to convince myself that it had been my imagination, that Rox couldn't have done that to me. Because I wanted to make myself believe even now that I was wrong, but I knew I wasn't.

When I walked into our condo she was sitting at the plate glass window set into the rear wall of our first floor den. That window was the reason we had bought it. I couldn't count the nights we had lain on a rug in front of that window and made love under the stars.

She was up and out of the love seat and at me before I got to the counter that separated the kitchen from the den. She hugged me and wrapped that incredible body around me before trying to kiss me.

For the first time in our life together -- before and after marriage -- I turned my face so she kissed my cheek and let her hold me. I didn't reach out with my hands to hold her. She hugged me again. It was seldom if ever that I didn't start getting hard within a few seconds. Tonight I don't think I could have, even if I had been in the mood.

Slowly she backed up and stared at me as if she didn't recognize me.

"I'm really tired. Did you heat something up?"

"Chinese, beef and broccoli. Do you want me to make you a plate?"

"That's okay. I will. I'm going to head into the guest room, eat a bit and then sleep."

She reached out with one slender hand and touched my shoulder, as if I were a fragile piece of crystal that might shatter. The picture of her putting her hand on Anderson's shoulder in that possessive and loving gesture flashed into my mind and she must have seen something on my face. She dropped her hand and stepped back.

"Tommy, what is it. I know something is wrong. Don't tell me there isn't. You're frightening me."

I looked into her eyes and I couldn't even now believe that what I knew to be true had happened. For the smallest fraction of a second I wanted to pretend that I could get past this. We could go on and I'd forget that I'd ever seen the tape of that meeting. I would resist the urge to have her followed or bug her phone or check her email for secret accounts and lovers' messages. I would put it behind me, I would force myself to forget, and some day, some time, the denial would be the truth and it would be over. Then it would be as if it had never happened.

It only lasted for the smallest fraction of a second. You can't un-ring a bell. I could never forget what I'd seen, what I now knew. I don't know for how long, but there must have been times she had come to me from his bed. I knew how she was in bed. She'd lain underneath him if she didn't ride him, and she'd screamed and scratched his back as he poured himself into her. Maybe, if he hadn't used a condom, I'd fucked through his semen remaining inside her, and she hated condoms.

She must have thought about him on nights when I lay on top of her, when I had thought I was her entire world. Now, I realized, I was an ignorant stranger, standing on the outside of the world she had forged with another man.

I looked into her eyes and she seemed to be the same woman I had planned to grow old with, but she was not that woman any more and never would be again. I had to turn away because otherwise I would burst into a child's tears. I felt the way I did as a seven year old when my mother had held my hand at my father's funeral. She had told me he had gone to heaven and he would never come back, just as now, the woman I loved had gone away, and she was never coming back.

I turned away from her as I felt my eyes flooding with tears. I walked toward the guest bedroom. I forced myself to make words.

"I'm not hungry. I just need to sleep. We can talk tomorrow."

I could feel the force of her stare on my back as a I walked away. I stepped into the guest bedroom, which was the least used room in the unit. I closed the door behind me and locked it. Then I stripped down and set the alarm for 5 a.m. and dropped my head on the pillow. I thought I wouldn't be able to sleep, but the lie had become the reality. I couldn't have lain there for more than a couple of minutes when everything went away and then it was only a few seconds before the alarm was going off.

My unconsciousness had been a blessing. I hadn't had to think about anything. When I woke up, my mind was clear. Sometimes that happens. Without knowing how, I'd come to an accommodation with reality, with the death of my marriage and the fact that I was going to be alone now.

Oh, not 'alone' alone. There were too many women and I still had my hair and could bang away pretty good. I could still make Rox scream and hit the high notes on good nights, or what I had thought had been good nights. But I had reason to know I could still satisfy a woman. My bed wouldn't go empty.

But none of them would be Rox.

I wanted to get out before she woke up, but no such luck. She knew my schedule and came stumbling out of our bedroom, auburn hair a tangled mass, padding barefoot toward me, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She didn't look anything like the carefully prepared Roxanne she presented to the world.

I would have died for this rumpled stranger if she had still been mine.

I backed away and moved into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. She forced her way in as I stripped off and stepped into the walk-in shower, closed the sliding door behind me and turned on the hot water full blast. I shivered as the full blast of cold water hit me but in seconds it started warming up and soon was scalding, which was the way I liked it.

A few seconds later she stepped in, tall and bronzed and naked, her heavy breasts bobbing as she slipped between the hot water and me. Then she was standing against me, nipples weaving patterns against my skin, her hands dropping down to grab me and stroke me into erection. Her lips and tongue caressed the side of my face and started dropping lower.

I caught her by her shoulders and pulled her up to face me.

"No Rox, I don't have time for this. I've got some big things going on at the station and I can't play here. We'll make up for it tonight, I promise."

She stared at me and I think she must have known, but she couldn't ask me without opening up the proverbial can of worms. She had to maintain the lie that nothing had changed, that we were still a happy couple.

"Why won't you talk to me, Tommy?"

"Because I have things on my mind. I just don't have time to get into it. Just go to work -- do your thing - enjoy yourself and we'll get all this straightened out tonight -- or whenever."

She stood there with the water streaming through her thick red tangles, down the her neck and over those wonderful breasts and if I looked down far enough over her hips and that triangle between her legs I'd lost myself in so many time. It might have been water from the shower, or it might have been her tears, but water ran down her cheeks.

"You've changed, Tommy. How could you change so much in one day?"

"People change, Rox. Life is a process of change. Nothing ever stays the same. I thought you knew that."

"Who are you?"

"I could ask you the same question. Who are you, Rox? Are you the same woman I married, the woman who said she would love and cherish and be true to me for the rest of our days?"

At that the tears began and she backed away and stumbled out of the shower. I closed the shower door behind her and cleaned myself in preparation for the most important day of my life.

I finished the shower, came out, quickly ran an electric razor over my stubble and went into the main bedroom.

She lay naked on the bed that had been ours. She didn't look up when I walked in and went to the closet to pick out an outfit for work. I dressed relatively casually in slacks and a nice Hawaiian shirt - the news editor doesn't deal with the public or advertisers!

With white tennis shoes and shortie socks, I was ready to go and was about to walk out the door when she said, "Whatever you think, whatever you've heard, Tommy, I want you to know that I love you. That will never change. You have to know that."

"How do I know that, Rox?"

There was no answer as I walked away from her.

When I got to the station I knew what I was going to do. I called Sam Gold, who was the associate news director and normally would not be working until the next day. He grumbled when I asked him to come in and pull a double shift, but I volunteered to work any two weekends he selected for him. I didn't think I was going to have any really important weekend plans the rest of the year. Probably it would be a good thing to work as many weekends as possible. Then I told Martine that Gold would be in within the hour and I'd be taking off on a personal project. No questions.

As soon as Gold came in and caught up, I bowed out and made my way to my office. I needed to do some thinking, make some private phone calls, check some emails and make my plans.

At noon, Robert Anderson's private and very personal email account received a message stating, "You and that slut Roxanne Hunter have been very careless. There are photos of you fucking her. You should have been more careful. Cyclops."

At 12:15 the following message arrived with an attached photo: " I know you're angling for a job at the CBS affiliate in New York City. How do you think they'd feel about a scandal involving you and the wife of another station official, stuffing nose candy where it shouldn't go. Think they'd still be interested. Cyclops.

The attached photo had been obviously photoshopped, but it showed what appeared to be a naked Anderson in bed with a naked Roxanne Hunter and a bowl containing a very suspicious white powder that Anderson was snorting.

At 12:30 the next message arrived: "The clock is ticking. Doesn't matter whether the photo stands up, there's enough proof of what you two have been doing. Did you know that the new part owner of the group that bought a controlling share of the top CBS station in New York City is a very quiet, but devout, member of the Moral Majority and a devout Christian. How do you think he'll feel about the scandal? Cyclops."

At 1 p.m. a message was routed though the electronic maze of bounced messages to "Cyclops," saying, "You're a joke. Go away."

At 1:15 the following message was sent to Anderson.

"Let's see who ends up laughing."

At 2 p.m. Anderson messaged Cyclops: "You win. What do you want? It's worth it just to get rid of a nuisance. How much do you want?"

In reply, "No money. Just come by for a little talk. Bring yourself to the New Siam on Adams Street across the street from the Bell Tower, 3 p.m. If you're not there by 3:15 I'm gone."

At 3:10 p.m., Anderson walked into the New Siam and looked around. He didn't see anyone he recognized until I turned from my seat in a booth at the back and waved at him.

"Hi, Robert. What are you doing here?"

He just stood there for a moment, then walked to the back and stood there looking down at me.

"You realize I've got a couple of friends from the Sheriff's Office standing outside waiting to arrest you for extortion?"

"Bring them in if you're ready for the Shitstorm Apocalypse."

"Big talk for a guy who's career is ready to go into the toilet. You won't ever work for any other news organization anywhere in the world."

"I don't think so. What kind of threats did you get? Phone threats? Did anybody ask for money? I'd like to know why you're in here threatening me."

"You know damn well what. E-mail messages telling me I had to be here to keep you from spreading false rumors and faked pictures of your wife and myself."

I just stared at him and enjoyed the moment.

"So, you have electronic copies of messages, apparently, from someone threatening you, yet not asking for anything. Wonder if that constitutes extortion. In any case, I just happen to have gotten a yen -- no pun intended - for some Thai food. If you charge me with being the person behind those messages, good luck getting anything that looks like proof.

"In the first place, it wasn't me.

"Secondly, whoever did this to you was, I'm sure, aware of the new technology that makes tracking down the source of an email virtually impossible or at least very difficult.

"I know the cops or FBI could eventually find this person, but I kind of doubt they're willing to put the kind of money or manpower into the challenge they'd face just to convict someone for sending vague threats, if they were even threats! I have a feeling you and they will be international laughing stocks before it's over but, you're welcome to try since I had nothing to do with it. Then, when they fail and my innocence is proven, I'll play this damn story up and see if I can get national to look at it. Then I'll sue you personally for trying to destroy me so you could get my wife."

"It would make a great story and you would come out looking like a winner, for sure."

A tall guy in a Sheriff's Office uniform walked back toward us. He tapped a button in his right ear which made me assume they were taping our conversation outside.

"Jesus Christ, Anderson, you want us to launch a full scale police investigation wasting god knows how many man hours and our tech guys over what might be threatening emails. Not asking for any money. By a guy who's pissed because you're banging his wife? Really?"

"It was still an extortion plot, Brady."

"Anderson, grow up. I only came with you because I got curious. I can just see the State Attorney moving ahead full force against a respected news guy over what MIGHT be a threat."

He looked down at Anderson, then at me.

"I'll look the other way. Why don't you guys just go out behind the Siam and pound hell out of each until you get this straightened out between you."

"Fine with me," I said and wasn't surprised to see Anderson shake his head even though he had four inches on me. He couldn't afford to have that perfect face marred. The cop just shook his head and said, "Anderson, don't call me again on crap like this. Favors go only so far."

He walked away. Anderson looked like he was getting up when I said, "Don't walk away, or you will regret it, believe me. Also turn off the bug they gave you."

"I'm tired of your shit, Hunter. You put me through all this just because of some fantasy about me and your wife."

"If you walk away, Anderson, you're going to regret it for a long, long time. You probably think I'm bluffing, but are you willing to take that chance? I just want to talk. Grab a cup of wonton soup or something."

He leaned back in the booth.

"I'm not hungry, but I am curious. What are you up to?

"Okay, cards on the table. I heard that introduction that my wife gave you at the Literacy Banquet a month ago. I also looked at a lot of tape of that night. I don't have any doubt of what's going on, but I have questions I'd like you to answer."

"I don't need to answer any questions because there's nothing going on. If you heard the whole thing, you know it was a joke. She flubbed the intro and I played off it for a laugh. Are you that damned insecure that you really believe there's something going on."

"Anderson, look at me. I'm the news director, I've been here for 15 years and a lot of people owe me favors. I also know where a lot of bodies are buried and I have a whole staff of investigators. I don't know how long you and she have been seeing each other but, unless it started the night of the Banquet, there's a trail. There are people who know things. I'm sure you were discreet, but not enough, and I WILL find out."

"If you don't talk or you lie to me today, when I do find out I'm going to destroy you. There's a photo, actually a series of them, showing you putting illegal substances up your nose at a party six months ago - taken surreptitiously by a cell phone. You never knew about it but they're real. They came to me and I put them away because you're another newsman and I didn't want to destroy your career just because you're stupid."

"You ought to realize that I know a lot of people at the networks, on both coasts - people I've met and worked with. I'll put out the word that you're undisciplined -- in regard to drugs and sex. Being an Anchorman or having a top network position isn't like being in Hollywood. It's not something that adds gloss to your reputation. It makes you unreliable and there are a lot of news directors and network people, guys in their 40s and 50s with young pretty wives, and they really don't want a hound like you screwing them."

"Maybe I won't stop you. Maybe you're on a rocket to the top, but I'm going to do my best to hurt you."

He sat back and stared at me as I outlined the situation. He hadn't said a word, then finally, "Unless....?"

I took a sip of the hot green tea the waitress had brought to the table before Anderson arrived.

"Unless you answer my questions honestly. I don't want to destroy you, although I will if I have to. I want to know how you and my wife got together, what happened. Is it still going on? If you answer truthfully, you walk out of here and I forget you exist. I am going to divorce her, but your name will never come up. I'll make it simple -- 'Irreconcilable differences'."

"How can I trust you? You can say anything, then afterwards if you get pissed at me..."

"Because I give you my promise, and there are a lot of people in this town who will tell you it's good. I've never broken my word."

He looked at me for a long time, then asked, "What is that? If it's green tea, grab a waitress. I love that stuff. I just didn't know they served it in a Thai place."

"I've been eating here a long time and the owner is a friend. He said a few people like it."

After the waitress set the pitcher and a cup in front of him, he filled the cup with steaming tea and sipped at it. Finally he looked up at me and said, "It was nothing personal, man. I knew she was married to you. We even talked about it. But it just -- it just happened."

"How do I know you're telling the truth? You're enough of an egotistical son of a bitch to be claiming something just to get a rise out of me."

"How many people know there's a small TH with an arrow pointing toward her pussy, just on the inside of her ass cheek? It wouldn't show in a bikini. You couldn't see it unless she was spread out to let someone take her from the back."

She had had the tattoo put in signifying "Tommy Hunter's pussy" two years before. At the time it had made me very happy.

He took another sip.

"We do a lot of things at the Ritz. New stories, Meetings, Conferences, and you know...you can't NOT see her if you're around her. She just stands out. So I started flirting, a little. This was about a year ago, after I first got here, and she flirted back, but it was just business. When you look like her and you're in that position, it's part of the job and I knew that, so I never expected anything to happen."

"But after awhile, I knew she was into me. I can't help how I look and I know how women react. So, after about three months, I gave it a shot but she shut me down -- hard! She actually slapped my face - first time that's happened in a long time - and I figured that was that. There were plenty of other warm bodies around."

"Into you?"

"It's the looks, the body language. They move close to you, touch your hand or arm when they don't need to. That look they give you or they'll put their hand on your knee when you're sitting together. She was definitely putting out the signs, but I misread them. I had walked her out to her car after a late meeting and tried to kiss her. She slapped me and told me she was a married woman. She got in the car and drove off, leaving me holding my dick - so to speak."