Benedict and Veronica Horton

"Thanks, babe. I know I couldn't have done it without you," I said. She gave me a funny look that almost caused me to ask if there was something wrong. But, I didn't. This was my night to shine.

A few more, all executives, received accolades and plaques similar to the one I'd been given. Then came the Christmas bonuses delivered by the division chiefs, mine by my boss Mark K. Watson. It was for five thousand dollars. Our trip to Cancun was on, I thought to myself. It was a surprise that I had planned on springing on my wife after I found out what the bonus was going to be. I was feeling good.

Awards awarded, bonuses passed out, the drinking and the dancing and the hurrahing underway: our table had a visitor.

"So, Benny, I'd ask you what you are feeling, but I already know," said Mark.

"For sure, boss. It has been a wonderful night," I said. Just then Veronica returned to the table having spent some little time in the john powdering her nose.

"Hi Mar—mister Watson," she said, as she came up," I looked at her, and for a moment I thought that I saw something in her look that could have been interpreted as—what—guilt? But, she gathered herself and clutched my arm possessively. "Isn't he wonderful?"

"He is and he's also a very lucky man," said Mark.

I looked over at my smiling wife and smiled back at her. "I am. I'm the luckiest guy in this place," I said. He smiled.

"Ben, may I steal you away from your far better half for a moment?" he said. I looked him askance and nodded in the affirmative.

"I'll go visit with missus Watson," said Veronica rising to go.

"Okay, hon," I said.

"I won't keep him long," said Mark. We watched her sashay off and across the room where the big wigs were all clustered around four tables at the back. I was only twenty-seven, and with Mercury for not quite three years; and men with a whole lot of seniority kept passing my table congratulating me. It had to have been the second highest point of my life; the highest having been the day I heard Veronica Parker say I do.

He took a seat across from me. "Ben, I'm here to offer you an opportunity. As good as you are you are still only one man. And, you are a very young man for the kind of thing I'm about to offer you. That said, you have more than proven yourself on the field of battle, to coin a phrase.

"Ben, I need you to train and direct other reps to maximize their production—well—like you have," he said. He paused and watched me. I think I'd temporarily lost my ability to speak.

"Huh?" I said. "Train other reps?"

"I'm offering you the job of assistant VP in charge of training, Ben. There'd be some travel, but not an excessive amount. The pay and benefit package would be markedly better than what you currently enjoy," he said.

"Assistant VP," I squeaked. He started to laugh.

"Indeed. And you've earned it, Ben. I know you know that." His tone was sincerity in its purest sense.

"Where do I sign," I said, coming out of my intellectual coma. "Mister Watson..."

"Mark to you, Ben. You're management now. I know you'll do a good job. You'll be working with Rob Underwood, senior VP for training and recruitment. The very man who hired you, as I recall," said Mark

"Yes, yes, I know mister Underwood," I said.

"Okay, then. Take next week and clear the decks with your key customers. A week from now report to mister Underwood's office and make us a lot of money," he said. He stuck out his hand and we shook. I was feeling real good.

This night was a high water mark and nothing was going to ruin it. The congratulations sex was not good; it was phenomenal. Nobody had a right to be this happy. It would be a full thirteen more years before my world turned to shit

******

"Was he happy?" he said. He had swiveled his chair back around and hung up the phone as she'd come in.

"Happier than pig in stuff," she said. "I am so glad you were able to do that for him. He'll be on cloud nine for a few more days, but he'll be into the job real soon. You won't be sorry, Mark," said Veronica.

"Actually, I'm not really worried. Frankly we don't have anybody near as capable as he is regardless of experience or seniority, and the position is open and needing to be filled right away. After a few perfunctory questions from the big boss, I got the go ahead to promote him, so we're clear. He will be watched early on to see how he performs, but, like I say, I'm not worried; he'll do fine," said Mark.

"When are you sending him off?" she said.

"I'm not, but Underwood is taking him with him on a recruiting tour the week after next. He'll be gone eight days according to the schedule," he said. She smiled.

"Good," she said. She came to him. "I think it's time that I took a little dick-tation, don't you?"

"Actually, miss Horton, that's just what I had in mind," he said.

******

"So, what are you thinking?" said Robert Underwood.

"I'm thinking that this is my niche. I love it," I said. "I mean training other reps."

"Well, good," said the man. "I have every confidence in you, Ben. The learning curve can be a little steep for some folks, but you seem able to handle yourself pretty well even with the pressure. Now that the company's gone nationwide, you're gonna be one very busy fella.

"You need to hire yourself a secretary. I could have had one in place for you, but I figured you'd want to find your own assistant. That's always been the way most executives—junior or senior—have preferred to do it. Of course if you'd rather that I..."

"No, no, I'll handle my own situation per this one," I said.

"Right. I figured that would be the case," said Robert.

I did hire an assistant, Mercedes Detofoli. Mercedes was single and thirty-two and nice looking. As it would turn out, she would be with me for the duration.

The years rolled by, my boss became senior vice president in charge of operations, and I took over his job thirteen years out. I was forty and almost rich and had the most beautiful woman alive for a wife.

******

"I guess we're going to be getting in early?" I said, mostly to myself. We'd been on the road for four days. We'd been scheduled for six, but we'd gotten it done and the customers were happy and so was I.

"Boss?" said Mercedes.

"Hmm?" I said.

"Should I call Max Hardesty at Nutronics and set up that appointment, or do we wait for the other bids?" she said.

"Nutronics wants to wait and see what all the bids come down to. We're in the fight, but we have to be cautious with this one. Could be one of our biggest accounts if we play our cards right," I said. She nodded her understanding.

The plane touched down at exactly 11:00AM. I knew my wife would be at work, so I decided to surprise her and take her out to lunch. I was excited.

"Hi Carol," I said to the receptionist, "Veronica in?"

"Yes, sir, I think so. I just got in from an errand; I'm not sure. "But you can just go back if you like." Those fatal words were about to ruin my life. I headed back to where my wife's office was. I went right in without knocking—big mistake.

What I saw stopped me cold, her too, him too. She was bent over her desk with my boss buried deep in her pussy. When the door'd closed behind me, their heads had uniformly snapped around. I stared.

"Oh my God!" said my wife. Her skirt had fallen back into place as she straightened up, but her panties were still pooled on the floor. I looked at them, the panties, and then up at her, then him.

"Sweet fucking Jesus," said my boss. I said nothing. I just continued to stare.

"Benny—oh what you must think. Oh my, what you must think! Please..." she started. I could feel the tears welling up and about to burst forth. My stomach was awash in acid and threatening to erupt. I actually felt faint, but I held it together—barely. Forty years old and my world was imploding.

"Ronnie—I..." I turned and slowly left, closing the door gently behind me. I heard nothing from them as I walked down the lengthy hall. Passing Carol, I smiled; I don't know why. My world was indeed imploding, and my heart was a smoking ruin. Reasons for striving, reasons for doing, reasons even for living were no longer there for me. Yet, I knew that somehow I'd be doing my best to survive.

Married near fifteen years, no children, no large debts: the divorce would be pretty much painless on the economic side of things. The big problem for me at the moment was what to do at the moment; that, and the absolute emotional destruction of my soul. I knew for a flat fact that I was not going to be able to recover from this; I just wasn't, not completely. I did have a question or two that I hoped I would be able to get the answers to from her, but as for that, I wasn't even sure I could emotionally take the risk of trying to talk to her. I did, however, decide to go home and wait for her. What might happen after that; well, I had not a clue—none.

******

I was on my fourth round of Tennessee sour mash when I heard the car door slam in the driveway outside the kitchen window.

She strode inside, through the back door and through the service porch. She stopped at the entrance to the kitchen.

Her brow was wrinkled into what seemed a sympathetic and, I assume, concerned expression. She stared at me for a long moment. "Benny—I—I am so sorry. I am so very-very sorry. Please, can we talk, you and I? We really need to talk. It wasn't as bad as it looked. Really. What am I saying, of course it was as bad as it looked. But—I guess what I'm trying to say is that it doesn't have to end us—it doesn't have to hurt us—end us. Jesus! I hope you're not thinking that it has to end us," she said.

"How long?" I said. She sighed, came into the kitchen proper, and sat opposite of me at the table.

"Does it really matter?" she said. I raised an eyebrow at that.

"Yes it does. Please tell me," I said.

"Almost since the beginning," she said. "Well, since I started working for Mercury. He hit on me regularly for months in the beginning. Then, one day, I don't know why; I gave in. It's been going on ever since." I sat transfixed.

"Thirteen years! Thirteen fucking years! Boy, you sure had this clueless fool—well—fooled," I said. "I must be the laughing stock of the entire company. How could I not be?"

"Benny, I did it for you, for us," she said. "And no one is laughing at you. No one, believe me."

"You're kidding right?" I said. "For us, you did it for us? That I do want to hear about. Is he the only one, Ronnie? Is he the only one? Just Watson? Or, were there others?" She looked away.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck," I said. "How the fuck many, Veronica? How the fuck many?"

"A few. Not that many, just few customers. You'd come home worried about this or that customer, and well, on a few occasions I—well—I made them an..."

"An offer that would have been damn near impossible to refuse. That about it, Ron? That about it? Hell, I can relate. That's about what happened to me when I just had to ask you to marry me. A girl totally out of my league. I knew it. Oh, I knew it. No doubt about that. But, I just had to try for the impossible dream, for the brass ring—pussy. I just had to take my shot. Lucky me, right. I got what I most wanted in the whole world. And now I find it was all just a big fat lie. Fuck!"

"Benny, would you allow me a moment to explain a couple of things? Would you? Please?" she said. Her tone—it was her tone—it was condescending. I knew that tone. I''d heard it a lot in eons gone by. People treating me with contempt because they knew I was a social cipher. And now my wife—shades of an overheard conversation at the Badger Sett so many years gone now.

"You hold me in contempt don't you, Veronica. I guess you always have. I'll make a deal with you. Okay?" I said. She knew she had a weak hand; she nodded.

"Okay," she said.

"You can tell me whatever you want, but you have to answer me one thing first?" I said. "You agreed to marry me and to forsake all others. You knew what you were getting when you made that little agreement: short guy, no great shakes in the love making department, no outsized physical equipment, damn near a total zero when it came to socializing. So, why did you settle for me? You could have had any guy you cast your approving glance upon. Why Veronica, if you held me so in contempt, as you obviously do?" I said.

She sighed. She looked nervous. I had to wonder at that. "First off, Benny, I do not hold you in contempt. And you have no reason to think that. That said, yes, I agreed to marry you. Yes, I promised to forsake all others; and at the time I meant it. But, after I went to work for Mercury, things began to happen. By that I mean that opportunities arose that were too good to pass up.

I married you because I knew that you were going to be the success story of our generation. Yes, your short, yes your dick is marginal at best, and yes your social skills needed a definite upgrade. The short thing was no problem for me; the brain was Paul Bunyanesque. Your dick I couldn't do anything about, but I could live with it because I would make it a point to train you how to do me with your mouth and tongue; and I did train you, my man, and you did learn. Actually, Benny, you're as good as there is at that whether you know it or not. As for your social skills, again I was able to dress you, train you, control you so as to make you more than acceptable there too. So, to answer your question more directly: I married you because you were going to be somebody, and you are, and where you were lacking I knew I could mostly be of help.

"Okay, Ben, I answered your question, so please hear me out."

"I cheated, as I was about to say earlier, because of some opportunities that were too good to pass up. You had one Achilles heel, Benny: you were too damn young to be an executive. My problem, I guess you could say, is that I'm the impatient type, and I wasn't willing to wait for you to get what you deserved. So, I did something about it. It was only about sex Ben, sex as a tool, to—well—to help you get a head start; you know to jump ahead. And, it worked, and hurt nobody. Well, until you found out today, and really not even now the way I see it," she said.

"Yeah, well it did hurt, Veronica. It hurts me a lot, an awful lot. I got ahead all right, but not on my own merits. I got ahead because you were willing to spread for Watson and those other men and to humiliate me. They're laughing at me, Veronica. They're laughing at me and at you; you just don't get it. You're not just a whore, Ronnie; You're a prostitute: a play for pay cunt and nothing more," I said.

"No, I'm not, Ben, not in any real sense. But even if I am, so what. What are they, the men—johns? Men so meaningless that as men they have to pay for it? Benny, think about it, really. What forty-five year old rep or company executive was going to want to listen to a twenty-something newbie—a rookie. Oh you were executive material, right enough, everybody knew that—especially Mark Watson, and I assure you that I'm not lying about that. He is scared pissless that you're going to quit now because of—well—because of what you saw today. But, he was not about to promote you till well...

"Anyway, I cheated to get you promoted before your time.

"Early on, after I started fucking him, Mark actually told me I was nuts if I thought you could handle being an executive with virtually nada experience. So, I made it my business, my mission if you will, to convince him that you could handle it.

"And yes, I dressed sexy, made him want me, made him actually need me. And yes I let him screw me—a lot. I let him screw me but with the codicil that you'd get the next big promotion that came along. You essentially jumped ten years of required seniority and experience because my pussy was in the pot, buster. My pussy, Benny, but not my heart. You've had that right along and you always will. I do love you and only you.

"Anyway, I guess I've said what I needed to say. I just hope you can see your way clear to not dump me. And, to keep your job. You've earned it even if I did have to spread for him to get it for you initially," she said.

"Spread for 'them'," I said, "and who exactly are the 'them'? I mean besides Watson, those other guys?" Again, she looked away. She stood and paced for a moment.

"Which customers, Veronica? Which ones? I want to know who the them are!" I said.

Carl Wilcox, Ford Steelman, and Randy Gates," She said.

"Jesus! three out of four of our biggest clients. Tell me truly, please. Did they laugh at me while you were with them? Tell me Veronica!" She looked away yet again; that told me all I needed to know.

"So you bought me my success, my promotion, my outlandish and undeserved promotion. How do you think I feel about that Veronica. How did you think I would feel when I found out; and I would have found out even without catching you today, sooner or later I would have. It was inevitable. One them would eventually have bragged, probably already has, so I would have found out. How do you think I was going to feel about that!" I said.

"I'm not a fool, Benny. I figured they'd do that shit, the bragging I mean. I taped our sessions. The ones with the customers. I got it all in case they doublecrossed us," she said. I stood looking at her with my mouth hanging open.

"Sweet fucking Jesus! And, you expect me to accept all of this and just go on without breaking stride," I said.

"It's not the first time a man's woman gave him a hand up. I just hope you're strong enough to accept what has happened and look past it, Take advantage of it. I mean look to the future, Ben. My playing hasn't hurt us. You know that's true if you think about it. Maybe dented your ego a little. But, the paychecks are rolling in, and nobody has reason to be dissatisfied. And, I'll say it again, especially Mark Watson! I..."

"Hasn't hurt us? You know they are still laughing at me, don't you? All of them," I said.

"So what if they are! I am most certainly not laughing at you," she said.

"Right!" I said.

"Goddamn it! I'm not, Ben." She took on a pensive look. "Ben, what are you going to do?" she said. I looked at her; I discovered that I was tapping the table with my fingers. I felt—what—impatient, at my wits end, something.

"Do? Well, I haven't really had a chance to think it out..." I started.

"Ben, do not over think this. It is what it is, and it will stop: my playing that is. Actually, in a way, you're going to kinda be in the driver's seat now. Mark is going to be bending over backwards to make you happy, make it up to you; I can guarantee that," she said.

"Mark bending over for me? Now there's an image that appeals to me. But forget him for a moment. All of those customers are married aren't they?" I said. I knew that they were, and Watson too. I wanted her to realize that I had a whole lot of options besides waiting for Mark 'fuckwad' Watson to do me some favors. Her look told me I'd scored.

"Ben! You're not thinking of revenge are you? Tell me you're not thinking of getting revenge on these men. Yes, the men who made you a cuckold. They did that, but they also made damn sure that you were otherwise way compensated for your unknowing sacrifice. Please tell me you're not going to do something stupid?" she said. She slid forward in her seat leaning into me from across the table. I stood and took her place as the family pacer. I stopped and tendered her a meaningful stare.

"Frankly, I'm not sure what I'm going to be doing. Listening to this tripe, and I do mean your reasoning, I'm about ready to quit my job, sue every blessed one of the cheaters, divorce you on grounds of serial adultery, and go to church," I said.

"What? Quit? Divorce me? Go to church? What are you talking about!" I could see she was on the verge of tears.

"Yes, all of the above. And why church? Because, I want to thank God almighty that we don't have any children. Under the circumstances that would not have been a good thing," I said. And, I said it about as coldly as I'd ever said anything.