Betrayed Husbands Anonymous Ch. 02

I laughed, "Talking to me is not going to hurt your chances -- you're a lock for the job."

"Tell me if I am going too fast. I've been thinking about this for a while. I told you I do almost all the estimating for the jobs. We have tables we use to calculate the steel, concrete, and other materials -- very accurately. Simon gets me prints and physical measurements, and I figure everything out. Getting the materials estimate right is most of the battle in winning contracts. Simon always estimates the labor."

"Okay?" Where was she going, I wondered.

"There were a couple of jobs where Simon told me not to estimate, he would do it. I really never thought about it. Then, the biggest job we ever bid on, the Wellborn Building, and he wants to do it. He was done in only two days. We got the job. Then, we lost the job."

"And that made you suspicious of what?"

"In this business, you can underbid and intentionally try to build substandard. That is risky. It is less risky, if you have someone on the inside, to underbid, then make it up by changes in scope to the original contract. I think that is what this was. The file has a rendering of a building like Wellborn's Headquarters, but more traditional; less avant garde."

"So?"

"It would be cheaper to build, maybe 20 or 25% cheaper. I would guess we bid on the cheaper building, everyone else on the more expensive one. The insider awarded us the contract, based on the low bid, then tried to persuade Wellborn to build the lesser cost building. When he refused, the insider said we'll just handle the changes as they come. Wellborn refused that, too, and we lost the job."

"Let me ask you this, do you know the name William Mason?"

"Oh my gawd, yes! At least the name, it is in every one of the files that Simon estimated, himself."

Well, this is much bigger than I thought. I wonder why Trey is in the wind? Is he hiding from William, as Chuck surmised or in league with him? I didn't buy fearing an octogenarian who may be in his dotage. I get being cautious, but the nonsense of noncommunication was making this more complicated than it needed to be.

I smiled and turned toward Bridget. She is remarkably pretty and tonight she'd dressed like she wanted to look both professional and sexy with a little more emphasis on sexy.

"You said you feel trapped, why?"

"I am a single mother. My scum-sucking husband if you will forgive the term..."

"I think I may have been married to his sister."

"So sorry to hear that. In any event, the bottom feeder ran off with another woman and before our divorce was final, she had caught him cheating. My daughter is now eight, she is one of five children he owes child support for, plus maintenance to his most recent wife. We all have his wages garnished; I average getting about a hundred a month."

"He sounds like a real peach."

"He decided welfare was his best option. If he works, he has to distribute all the money, so he lets the government do it. So, I want my daughter to have more opportunities than I had, and I work my butt off."

"People pay a lot for someone who works hard."

"But, no degree, and business skills don't easily translate. Besides, Simon says he will ruin me if I leave."

"Well, he can't hurt you with us. You have the job. You will work in the main office, and we will not have contact, normally." I looked at my watch, still 45 minutes until dinner. I bet I could get them to seat us early, but I liked Bridget.

"Would you like wine or a drink? We have the business behind us, let's relax."

She absolutely lit up. "I don't drink at all anymore. Could I have a glass of champagne?"

I caught the attention of our sour waiter and ordered a split of champagne and Grey Goose on the rocks with a twist. The waiter poured her champagne and I held up my glass, "Congratulations! Welcome to Perfect Projects."

"Maybe this is too personal, but I haven't been on a date in, well in, well forever."

"I find that hard to believe. You are gorgeous." I took a quick sip of my drink. I hadn't counted on telling an interviewee anything about her appearance.

"I hated my husband for cheating on me, If I knew what he'd done to me, I would have hated him ten times as much. They take everything from you."

That hit a real chord with me, "I have thought," I took another drink, "this is personal, pardon me, but my wife was my friend, my lover, my companion, and I lost all of that."

We talked. Our conversation got more and more animated. Neither of us had ever shared these thoughts and our thinking was nearly identical. Divorce begins a new life. Most would define it as the end of a marriage, which it is -- but that "end" comes and goes; the beginning over again is what you are faced with.

We talked about silly things. She did the dishes; I took out the trash -- now we both did both. But we kept teasing each other with what we missed was sex without courting. The more we talked, the closer the conversation got to foreplay. Our drinks disappeared, we went to our table and had a little dinner to go with our wine.

"I told you I don't drink. Now I have and I know I can't drive."

"We could go dance for a while and sober up."

She got this gleam in her eye. "I can think of better activities to get sober. I'm feeling naughty."

A gentleman would not take advantage of a young woman, who nervously had too much to drink and suddenly felt amorous. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your view, she was not with a gentleman. We were at my apartment in less time than it took us to get in the car.

Patience was not with us. We were naked, on the couch, and enjoying one another 20 seconds inside my door. The bedroom was another 30 feet away, it would wait for the next round. There was indeed a next round, and the bedroom proved a better locale. We passed out, for a while.

I awoke to sobs and, "You must think I am a total slut."

"No, I do think I was lucky to be there for your breaking a long drought."

"I was out of control. What kind of a person goes on a job interview and gets the job -- then goes back and fucks a near stranger."

"Bridget, calm down, ok? Sex is a good thing. You obviously enjoyed it, and it was maybe the best I ever had. It's a good thing, okay?"

That seemed to calm her. We lay and cuddled. It was nearing 2:00am.

We were both awake, she stirred, "Jim, that was wonderful. I promise I will be less a maniac next time. Oh, I hope there will be a next time."

"Oh, you can bet on that." I said, with a big, big smile. "And, if I have my way, you'll do away with none of your mania. Unless I get too tired."

She laughed and punched me in the arm. "I promised I would pick up my daughter about 8:00, tomorrow morning. Maybe I should go home."

I wanted to be gallant but did the math in my head. We'd need to get up around 6:00, so I could get her back to her car, first. It was better to take her back, now.

We drove to get her car in near silence. When I pulled alongside her car, she said, "I'll do better next time. I am so..."

I interrupted, "We'll do better next time. Neither of us expected this evening to go as it did. We were spontaneous in ways we aren't used to, to say the least. How about next Saturday, we head out with the intention of going on a date?"

"Wonderful. I do better when I set out with the end in mind."

"I promise you I look forward to that, if you can do better, at being a great companion, I will be overwhelmed."

She beamed, "You're sweet, thank you." She kissed me and I went around to open her door, see her safely in her car, and watch her drive away. I headed for a much-needed night's sleep.

++++++

Monday morning when Chuck arrived, about 6:50am, I was sitting outside his office. "Well, aren't you the anxious one. You must have learned something. Let's get coffee going and have a chat."

I held up my cup, we walked around the corner, got him a cup, went into his office and closed the door.

"I think it is as likely Mason and Trey are in it together, as not."

"Well, it could be, but if they are - it is not fraud. Maybe they are perving together, and Mason got photos."

"People can surprise you and be dishonest when you don't expect them to be."

"That's not possible. I expect everybody to be dishonest. Trey is not, trust me."

I thought about it. I guess he is telling me he is aware of something or someone in Trey's past, tempting him to be dishonest and Trey would have none of it. Working for Chuck is like being on a game show; he gives clues, and you try to guess the answer. The difference is on the show they tell you if you get it right.

I walked out of his office. My thoughts turned to Bridget. I had not considered her a date. After my divorce, I'd not had dates. I would guess she is ten years younger. But we really clicked. Part of it was getting the dishonest actions of her company off her chest. She gave me her trust.

Gaining trust is a great foreploy -- I'd read somewhere foreploy was an action taken to get a carnal reaction.

It was clear to me Trey was the key. Given Chuck's confidence was not misplaced, Mason had something on Trey, forced him into seclusion, and was skimming money as fast as his creativity would allow. All I had to do was let Trey know Mason was trashing his good name and Trey would take care of him.

A good theory, as far as it went. Of course, I didn't know if Trey had the fortitude or desire to take Mason on. If he did, could he succeed? I had no idea how to contact him. So, there were flaws -- I never claimed to be smart.

++++++

Saturday came. I spent the week in anticipation of my date. It had been years since that occurred. I talked to Bridget three different times during the week. I called her at home, around 9:00 pm and we talked for at least an hour each time. I laughingly told her I was like some eighth-grade boy with a crush on a girl. She pointed to the obvious, the "girl" was sitting on the phone talking back.

I learned that the most important part of her life was her daughter, Judy. She was currently a precocious 8-year-old. When we started our marathon phone calls Bridget asked me why I was so curious about her daughter. I told her I really wasn't, exactly, I was interested to know Bridget and what was meaningful to her.

She was overwhelmed by my statement. In her experience, no one had cared enough about her to listen to what she wanted to talk about. That shocked me. My experience with people was not that harsh. Sure, everyone is self-centered -- but not exclusively self-centered.

By our Saturday date, I felt I knew Bridget, and she me, as though we'd been acquainted for years. I knocked on her door at 6:00 pm, on the dot. She opened the door and looked absolutely stunning. She was in a knee-length dress, tight enough fitting to show her gorgeous figure. She asked me in.

"I hope you don't mind; Judy's sitter just called and lost her ride; can we take Judy to her house? It's only three blocks."

"We can, sure. Another alternative is to take Judy to a restaurant with us." I said it without thinking, I hate just blurting out the first thing that pops in my head; you'd think I'd do it less often.

Judy, who'd had no interest in me, suddenly was making her way from behind her mother. Bridget, seeing I'd created an interest, said where are my manners? Judy, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine, Mr. Anderson. Jim, this is my daughter, Judy."

I squatted down to be more on eye-level with her and said, Hi, Judy. I am so happy to meet you. Your mother has told me lots about you."

Judy was still leaning against her mother but said, "Hi." Bridget and I had agreed on going to Red Lobster or Olive Garden -- someplace we'd enjoy, but not so formal we'd need a reservation.

Since I'd let the cat was out of the bag, Bridget said, "Judy, Mr. Anderson and I are going to dinner at Red Lobster, would you like to go with us?"

"Oh! Can I?"

"It's may I and Mr. Anderson invited you, so you may."

"Thanks, Mr. Anderson. That is my favorite restaurant. Usually, I just get to go on my birthday and Mother's Day."

While Judy and I were discussing the restaurant, Bridget phoned the sitter and told her we'd bring Judy by around 8:00, after dinner.

So, I am off, on my first official date with a woman and invite her 8-year-old daughter. I am officially fucking nuts. But for some reason I am wondering if Bridget and I could be the real thing. Might as well start learning what that might be like.

I don't know children. I was surprised how quickly she warmed and then started to share with us all that interested her. Of course, at 8, all that interests you -- is you. I was well aware of Mrs. Flannagan's flaws as a second-grade teacher before dinner was served.

Bridget kept trying to temper Judy's enthusiasm, but I'd smile and tell her this was why she was invited, relax and enjoy it. Bridget did her best, but I could tell it was hard for a mother to let her daughter be so self-centered in front of a stranger.

After we dropped Judy off (taking she and the sitter back to Bridget's apartment, for those keeping score), Bridget let out a big sigh. "I don't think that was my best idea."

"The idea wasn't yours."

"I know, but we'd talked so much about her, and I want you to know her, I am so out of practice, I forgot I don't know you, yet."

"It was a little less than two hours. She was worth it."

"Are there other men like you?"

"I think you and I are alike in many respects. We are out of phase with normal dating routines. People usually date, find if they are compatible, and then have sex."

"Why do you have to bring that up?"

"Well, if what we did was who we are, it would have been one thing -- but it is because it wasn't who we are. We don't really know anything about each other yet, except we were both hurt, equally, by a cheating spouse."

"You think that is our bond?"

"I do. My wife turned out to be a slut. I can pretend that it is all on her. But in the back of my mind, I always wondered if she had to go elsewhere because I was so bad."

She said, "That did make a big difference to me, too. Now I am worried about being too reckless."

"You need a life. I need a life. We discovered together we currently don't have lives and are taking some steps to see if we might have one together. We both let a divorce end much of our lives. Together, we are learning it was really the start of better lives."

++++++

"So, you got fired the minute you gave notice?" I asked Bridget. It was Monday, she got an offer from 3P over the phone and accepted it, at once. Her next move was to tell Armstrong.

"I couldn't believe it. He said he didn't trust me not to steal files. He stood over me and watched as I packed my plants, my coffee cup, and made such a fuss when I picked up my stapler -- I left it with him."

"Pardon me for stating the obvious, but if he was worried about your taking files -- he was late."

Her voice was tense, "I am scared to death. He suspects I know."

"So, what? That's on him?"

"You haven't worked with slime. He is trying to figure out how to pin things on me, as we speak. If he thinks of something good, his story will be he fired me. He fired me because I was into, whatever it is he can shovel off on me."

She was right, I didn't know slime. If he were guilty, he might be able to at least cast suspicion on her. "I wonder if he has someone in the building inspector's office?" I asked.

"You'd think he has to. What I worry about is someone in the police department."

I knew what she had to do. "Bridget, you need to tell Rodney III. Mason and Armstrong may try to do something to you, but they have destroyed him. If you give him the ammunition, he can get Mason and that will protect you."

"You're right! How do I contact him?"

"I have no idea."

She thought for a minute. Can't be that hard. He has an assistant who knows how to get him."

"Are you forgetting Mason doesn't want her talking to him?"

"Good point, I'll go talk to her, in person."

I was going to point out she had no idea who she was looking for, but she knew that, and it didn't seem to bother her.

No wonder Chuck preferred the shady side of things. It is so much easier. We "know" Mason and Armstrong are guilty of something, but have no idea exactly what, nor do we have any clue about how to gather information. Trey is a likely ally, who may remove the threat of Mason and Armstrong, or he may not. We need to get information, to protect Bridget. The question is how?

I was pleasantly surprised to see Bridget approaching my office no more than two hours later.

She practically beamed, "Well, that was easier than I thought."

"Bridget, you are amazing. How did you do it?"

"I went to the executive floor of the Wellborn Building and found once you get off the elevators there is a glass wall with a double door. On the other side of the of the doors was a large desk. The desk had two women seated near the ends. Each admitted guests through a door near her end of the desk. There was no way I was getting past them."

"And?"

"There was a bench. I sat down, spilled my briefcase onto the bench and the floor and waited about five minutes for a man to exit the offices and head for the elevators. I acted frustrated and said I was in a mess. I was looking for the woman who'd been Mr. Wellborn's assistant."

"Clever, did it work?"

"He started to snub me, but I looked pitiful, and he told me that Ms. Simmons now worked on the eighth floor for the CFO. I thanked him and went down to eight. There was no security, and I found her almost at once."

"And she gave you the number?"

"She is a piece of work. When she next smiles, her face will probably crack. I have never gotten a more stern looking over. She told me, in no certain terms, Mr. Wellborn was not reachable, period. I told her I had information about Mr. Mason trying to harm Mr. Wellborn. She told me that made no difference, she could not reach him.

"Then, she wanted every detail of what I knew. She got the names of the projects, asked if I had the files, and how I came to suspect Mr. Mason."

I worried that my name came up. "And what did you tell her?"

"I said I did not know him but noticed his was the only name common in all the files. It must have taken 15 minutes for her to take the notes on all I had to say. When I finished, she stared at me and said, she had told me there was no way to get ahold of Mr. Wellborn and she hoped I understood. She turned her back on me -- I took that to be my cue to leave."

"She could not reach him and yet took all those notes."

"My bet is before the elevator got to the lobby, she was talking to him. I am glad all the files are in a safe deposit box. What do you think will happen?"

"I have no idea. I will say the interest she showed says to me Trey wants to do something." I wondered what would happen. Mason surely is not going to just say, "oh well" and exit stage right.

++++++

Every week I was asked to go to a meeting, or two. BHA often didn't know what people would wish for. I was there to assure if the wish was business oriented, I'd be there to hear it.

I'd been to eleven meetings, at every one the speaker was a member of the get the bitch and her new guy -- as long as I don't need to do anything crowd. I figured the next mayoral campaign would revolve around stopping the radical increase in muggings and beatings.

Today, we were going to hear from Bob. I got a look at Bob, middle-aged, dazed, and confused -- probably wanted both the wife and new beau beaten to a pulp. My observation had been the weaker they looked, the more mayhem they wanted.

He got up, I looked up.

"Hi, my name is Bob."

The group said hi and he started.

"I guess my story is typical. We got married young; had to. Eventually, we had two more children. I didn't get an education, started working in retail, now twenty-two years later, I am assistant manager of the store. I'll never be manager; I don't have a degree.