Fallout 11: Her Business Trips

This is the eleventh installment of a series called, "Fallout" that deals with the consequences of cheating. The current plan is that each entry in the series can be read as a separate story.

The following was inspired by Just Plain Bob's 2006 story, "Cynthia's Business Trips," in which a husband learns that his wife of six years has engaged in numerous interracial gangbangs throughout their marriage and courtship. In the end, the husband accepts it and lets her continue with no consequences. If you have not read that story yet, I suggest you do so. The characters in this story are different, and the outcome is different, but the main premise remains the same. Yes, there are consequences for her betrayal...

Many thanks to those who offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories. For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen. At least on paper...

Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. (Yes, I DO moderate comments) And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...

* * * * *

I sat in the bar with my good friend Toby, celebrating what was to become a very profitable business deal for both his company and mine. We toasted the deal with a beer and took a large drink when we heard a loud ruckus in another part of the bar.

"What the hell is going on over there?" Toby asked.

"No idea," I said as we both looked. We saw a young blonde woman sitting in a booth surrounded by several fairly large men. She was obviously tipsy and was laughing very loudly at something one of the men said. We both took note of her attire. She wore a very short skirt and a loose, sleeveless top. Except for the long blonde hair and the rose tattoo on her shoulder, she could've passed for my wife, Donna.

But I knew it couldn't be Donna, since she was off on one of her twice-monthly business trips. Her trips could last anywhere from three to five days, and I hated it when she left. This time, she was in Houston for four days, working with the management of a factory there. The company she works for sells safety equipment to a number of plants around the country, so she's on the road a lot.

That's why I decided to meet with Toby in Oklahoma City. I figured with her gone, it would be the best time for us to meet and it wouldn't interfere with my home life. As we watched, "Blondie" stood up and the whole gang left the bar. They walked right by us, her arms linked with a man on each side, one black and the other Hispanic. She glanced at me as she walked by and I could make out her deep blue eyes. They all laughed as they walked by and headed out the door.

"You okay, Bob?" Toby asked me after they left. That's me, by the way. Bob Carson, head of product development for Ryker Industries in Denver, Colorado. I had been tasked with putting together a deal with Toby's company to produce a new line of HVAC controls for a new set of energy-efficient smart-homes. With all the concern over the environment and going green, this would benefit both our companies. Tonight's celebration was the culmination of that effort.

"Yeah," I said. "It's just... that woman reminds me a lot of my wife, Donna."

"Isn't she in Houston?" Toby asked.

"Yeah," I said. But something about the blonde bothered me. Don't ask me to explain it. Just then, a waitress came to our table. We placed an order for two more beers, but I stopped her before she left.

"What can you tell me about that blonde?" I asked.

"Oh, her?" she asked in response. "I've seen her in here a few times. Always has a gaggle of men trailing after her. You're not looking to meet her, are you?"

"No, I was just curious," I said. We finished our beer and headed out for the night. I promised to keep in touch with Toby and headed to my room for the night. Once there, I tried calling Donna, but the call went straight to voicemail.

I thought that rather odd, since she always kept her phone nearby. I tried calling her at the hotel she was at in Houston, but was told that she had checked out early that morning. It wasn't unusual for Donna to combine two clients with one visit, but she always made sure to let me know if her travel plans had changed.

I sent a text: "How are U? Everything okay?" I got a response fairly quickly.

"Tired," she wrote. "Long day. Getting ready for bed."

"Where R U?" I wrote back.

"At the hotel," she said. "Where else?" Where else, indeed, I thought to myself. What the hell is going on here? It wasn't like Donna to lie to me. Or was it? "I'll be home Friday night as planned. See you then. Love U!" she said in a follow-up text. Reading between the lines, I knew that was her code for "don't bug me."

"Love U more," I wrote back.

The next day I went home, confused. If Donna wasn't in her hotel, where was she? Was she even IN Houston, or had she gone somewhere else? I decided to confront her about this when I saw her.

Friday came around soon enough, and Donna had made it home just as she had said. In fact, she got home before me and her car was already in the garage. I could hear the shower running when I walked upstairs. I got out of my clothes and decided to join her.

"Aaaaagh!" she screamed as I opened the shower door. I stepped in and tried to hug her, but she wouldn't let me.

"What's the matter?" I asked. "I haven't seen you for days and you act like I'm some kind of a rapist or something."

"You scared the crap out of me," she said. "Please, let me just finish my shower and I'll be out in a few minutes, okay?" I could tell when I'm not wanted, so I shrugged my shoulders and got out.

"Whatever," I said. "I missed you and just wanted to show you some affection, that's all." I stormed out of the bathroom, dressed and headed downstairs where I grabbed a beer and sat down to watch some news. She came down about a half hour later, wearing a pair of cutoffs and a t-shirt.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," she said. "I've missed you too. It was a horrible trip."

"I tried calling you Wednesday," I said. "Where were you?"

"I was in my hotel room," she said.

"Really? Then why was I told you checked out early that morning?"

"I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you," she said. "There was a leak in the bathroom, and the floor was wet. They didn't have another room for me, so I went to another hotel. I should've told you."

"I was worried about you, and I had some good news for you," I told her.

"Oh? What's that?"

"You know that company in Oklahoma City we've been trying to work with?" I asked. "I went there while you were in Houston and met with the CFO. We were able to put together a deal and we now stand to make a lot of money off of it. If all goes well, I'll be getting a hefty commission and we can start thinking about a family."

"You were in Oklahoma City two days ago?" she asked. I sensed some apprehension in her voice.

"Yes, I was. Why?"

"You didn't tell me you were going there," she said.

"It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. Toby said he was available so I flew there and met with him, stayed the night then came home," I said. "I figured you were in Houston and wouldn't miss me. I tried calling you to let you know but I couldn't get in touch with you. Then I called the hotel and they told me you checked out early that morning."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I should've told you but I didn't want to bother you."

"It wouldn't have been a bother," I said.

"Anyway, I have some news for you as well," she said.

"Oh?"

"My territory has been expanded. I'm taking over from one of the other reps who is leaving. So that means I'll be traveling even more. Maybe as much as four or five days a week," she said.

"Four or five days a week? Every single week?" I asked, shocked. "I almost never get to see you as it is. How long is this supposed to last?"

"I don't know. Until they get someone in to take his place. Could be for the next three months."

"Crap," I said. "When does this start?"

"Monday. I leave Monday morning for Miami."

"When did you learn about this?" I asked her.

"Last night when I checked into the office."

"Fucking terrific." We ate dinner, watched some television, then went to bed where we made love, giving each other at least two orgasms before falling asleep. I wanted to spend as much time with her as I could before she left for Miami, so we went out dancing Saturday night, which led to another night of wild sex.

We slept in on Sunday, and spent most of the morning in bed, naked. She finally got up about 1:00 am to start packing. I got up with her and did my usual weekend yard work. That night, we called out for pizza and finished the day by making love yet again. She kissed me as she left for the airport Monday morning.

"Keep this nice and warm for me," she said, running her hands over the front of my trousers.

"Count on it," I said, giving her a sloppy kiss. I watched her leave, then went to work. She called me every evening to let me know she was okay. When she came back, we spent the weekend making mad passionate love. Things went on like this for about four weeks. Then it happened.

It was Monday morning, and I had just finished my first cup of coffee after arriving at the office. Donna had left for New York on Sunday, telling me she had to be there early Monday morning. She also said this trip was to last at least five days, perhaps more. I wasn't very happy about it, but she assured me everything was alright and we would reap the benefits if everything went well.

After grabbing my second cup of coffee, I headed back to my office. I felt a strong urge to urinate, so I went into the men's room. That's when I felt pain the likes of which I had never felt before. It was as if my dick was on fire. I remembered hearing guys talk about getting the clap when I was in the service, and realized Donna had given me something.

I told my secretary I had to go see my doctor and headed out of the office. Doc Brown had been my general practitioner ever since I left the Army, and I knew he would get to the bottom of this quickly. After taking samples and running the tests, he came back with the news.

"I'm sorry, Bob, but you've got a case of gonorrhea," he said. He gave me a shot of antibiotic, and a pill. Then he began asking about my sex life -- how many women have I slept with, that sort of thing.

"I've only had sex with one person for the last seven years," I told him. "My wife, Donna." I had been married to Donna for six years, but had been exclusive with her for a year prior to our wedding. He looked at me with a sad expression on his face.

"I... see," he said. "She'll need to see her doctor as soon as possible." He gave me a sheet of paper with instructions he said I need to follow. Which included no sex for up to two weeks. No problem there -- no way was I going to touch Donna ever again. After explaining everything to me, he sent me on my way.

I paid my co-pay and headed out. When I got to my car, I called my boss and gave him the abridged version of what was going on. He had been through a divorce himself and knew what I was going through, so he gave me the next couple days off to get the situation under control.

I needed to know what the hell my wife was doing, and with whom she was doing it. So I performed a search and found a private investigator and called.

"Hammer Investigations, how may I help you?" a friendly female voice asked. I introduced myself and asked for an appointment. The receptionist said that I could come in now if I wanted to see an investigator. I did, so I gave her my name. "Very well, Mr. Carson, Mr. Hammer will see you when you get here."

I found the office, which was located in a quaint business park not too far from the doctor's office. I almost expected a smoke-filled back room, and was pleasantly surprised when I walked into a well-appointed office. I went to the receptionist's desk and introduced myself.

"Mr. Hammer is expecting you," the young woman said with a huge smile. "Follow me." I couldn't help but admire her legs and ass as she walked, her long hair waving with each step. She knocked on a door and opened it, ushering me inside. A large, barrel-chested man stood up and shook my hand.

"James Hammer," he said as we shook hands. "Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks anyway," I told him. After the receptionist left, James turned to me.

"What can I do for you today, Mr. Carson?" he asked. He listened and took notes as I told him what had happened so far. "Have you spoken with an attorney yet?" he asked.

"No, not yet," I said. He nodded his head.

"It just so happens we do work for a number of attorneys in the area," he told me. "If you like, I can recommend one for you."

"That would be great, thanks," I said.

"You say your wife is in New York?" he asked. I nodded my head. "Is she going anywhere else this week?"

"I don't know," I said. "She never mentioned going anywhere else. I can call her office and find out."

"Why don't you do that?" I pulled my phone out, pulled up the contact for her office and called. After a couple rings, I heard the voice of her receptionist, Janice Billings. I asked to be put through to my wife's assistant, Patricia Holder. A few seconds later, I heard Patricia's voice.

"Hi, Pat, this is Bob Carson. I was wondering if you could give me some information regarding my wife's itinerary," I said. "She usually leaves it with me when she goes on her trips, but I seem to have lost it."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Carson, but Mrs. Carson no longer works here," she said. "Didn't she tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"She quit about a month ago," Patricia said. "I'm surprised she didn't say anything to you."

"She said nothing about quitting," I said. "Did she say why she was quitting?"

"Something about an opportunity to make more money doing what she loves to do the most," Patricia told me.

"Did she tell you the name of the company she's working for, Patricia?"

"No, she didn't," Patricia said. "I'm sorry, Mr. Carson, I just don't have any information for you whatsoever."

"That's okay, Patricia," I said. "Thanks anyway." We ended the call and I told James what Patricia said.

"Interesting," he said. Then it hit me. I had put a phone finder app on her phone several months back after she lost it on a previous trip. Fortunately, the phone was found and turned in by one of the hotel staff and Donna was able to recover it before she got on the flight back home. When she got back, I put the app on it just in case she lost it again.

I pulled the app up and waited for it to report the location of her phone. According to the app, her phone was located at the Courtyard New York Manhattan. She told me she was staying at the Times Square Edition in Manhattan. Why was at a different hotel? I showed James what my app said and he took note of it. Then I remembered the night I was with Toby.

"What if she's wearing a disguise?" I asked. "Would your guys be able to track her then?"

"We have ways of getting around that," he said. "You think your wife might be wearing a disguise?" I told him about the woman I saw the night I was with Toby. He thought for a bit before answering.

"This sounds like more than just your average cheating spouse situation to me. It's obvious your wife is hiding something from you, Mr. Carson," he said. "And she's gone to great pains to keep you in the dark. I do have colleagues in New York and other cities who do work for me from time to time. I can get them on the case, but it'll cost more."

"I need to know what the hell she's doing," I said. "Get them on it, please." I sent James some pictures of Donna. He acknowledged receipt of my photos, then handed me some paperwork to fill out.

"I'll get right on this," he said. "And I'll get some eyes on her in New York. It'll probably take a few days, but we'll get to the bottom of it. I'll call you when I have a report ready for you." He handed me a card that read "Robyn Hawkins, Attorney at Law." I looked at the card and put it in my pocket.

"She's the meanest lawyer out there," James said. "Sharks cross the road when they see her coming, if you catch my drift. I recommend you call her right away. Tell you you spoke to me. If you want, I'll make sure she gets a full copy of my report."

"Thanks, I appreciate that," I said. With that, we ended our meeting, stood and shook hands. I took the paperwork out to the receptionist and left it with a hefty retainer. When I left the office, I pulled out the card James gave me and called. Robyn wasn't available, but I did manage to get an appointment for 8:00 Wednesday morning. Perfect. From there, I headed home.

I thought about calling or texting Donna, but decided not to. In the past, she had always called me when her daily work activity was finished, so I decided to play along and let her think I didn't know anything. I did, however, decide to look through her paperwork, which she kept locked in her desk drawer.

The lock on her desk came with two keys, the same as mine. She had a key, and so did I, just as she had a key to my desk. Once upon a time, I would never have considered invading her privacy. But that was before she had lied and broken my trust.

I opened the drawer and looked at the folders arranged neatly inside. Donna was very good at organizing, and she liked to save everything. This was one time I was glad she did. I started looking and found a thick folder filled with bank statements.

They were all from a bank that we didn't use. Then I remembered she had a separate account when we got married. I thought she closed her old account when we opened the joint account shortly after we married, but apparently she hadn't. There were statements dating back to at least a year before we got married. The most recent, dated just a bit over three weeks ago, showed a balance of over $500,000. What the hell, I asked myself.

I looked at the statements and saw a number of fairly large deposits from something called Stanton Enterprises. I had never heard of that outfit before and made a note to check it out. I also saw withdrawals for things like expensive clothing, jewelry, wigs, hotel rooms and airplane tickets.

One of the tickets was for a round-trip flight from Houston to Oklahoma City. Looking at the date, I saw the ticket was purchased a couple days before I met with Toby. Could it be? Was the woman I saw in that bar really Donna in disguise?

Looking deeper, I found three payments to family planning clinics. The first was dated about a year after we got married. The second happened a year and a half later and the third was a couple years after that. I needed to know more, so I looked further.

I found a folder that held a number of receipts and statements from various doctors and clinics. The first one in the stack was from a doctor she had seen just before she left for her current trip. According to that, she had been tested and treated for gonorrhea.

On top of that, I found three receipts from different clinics for a "D&C." I didn't need to look it up -- I already knew what they were for. Since we had been married, she had no less than three abortions, and never once told me. She never even told me she was pregnant. I felt like I had been punched in the gut.

There was more. I found a folder full of tax forms. About three years ago, Donna insisted that we file separate tax forms. She said she was concerned that her bonuses and commissions might put us in a much higher tax bracket. We went back and forth on that for some time, but I finally relented. Now I know the truth about why she wanted to do that.