Fool Me Once

Ryan was bitter about her choice of places to have sex, but he'd almost expected it. Her lack of respect, her contempt for him lately almost dictated she'd do something like that. He'd covered the master bedroom with three of his twelve cameras and they caught all the action. Carrie and Sean's enthusiastic sexual antics in that room were featured in the tape Ryan began compiling for his in-laws and friends.

He also thought the bank, where Sean headed up a major department, would be interested in the videos Ryan had of a naked Sean working on his laptop in Ryan and Carrie's kitchen. Sean had plugged into the easily accessible phone jack beside the kitchen table. Ryan assumed...he thought it was a good bet...that Sean had logged in to the bank's server and was pounding out a little work while he waited for his body to recover from the excesses he was placing on it with his subordinate.

It was icing on the cake that, while resting between sexual bouts, the adulterous couple also discussed both Sean's and Carrie's families and more than a few of the friends they had in common. Ryan planned to highlight these sections and distribute them to the family members and acquaintances who believed Carrie's lies about him. He looked forward to exposing the adulterous pair. He really did. He had everything he needed. It was just a matter of when.

********

"Excuse me, sir...sir?" The café's hostess was surprised when Ryan didn't respond immediately. He was usually very alert.

"I'm sorry," Ryan said. "I'm afraid I was drifting there for a bit."

He blinked. The distasteful memories and musings had a powerful hold over him. It wasn't the first time he'd found it difficult to snap back to the real world.

"Awwwww, no big thing, sugar," she replied. "Listen, honey, we're just about full up this morning, ya know? And I was wondering if you would mind sharing your table with Connie and little Belinda here?"

Ryan looked around, seeing for the first time the little restaurant did indeed have every table occupied, but there were other tables with open seats. He was a little surprised the hostess was talking to him about accepting strangers at his booth, but then, it probably was the largest table available. He wasn't in the mood, but he saw no way out of it.

His eyes fastened on the tall, attractive woman with long, jet-black hair standing at the waitress's shoulder and the little girl beside her. In the space between one breath and the next, his mood changed. He was very glad the hostess had singled him out.

Still not running on all cylinders, it took him a moment to respond. When he realized he was still sitting there like a bump on a log, he flushed and contorted his body to get up.

"I apologize," he said to the trio. "I was brought up to be polite...I want you to know that. I really was...but sometimes I'm just not as quick on the uptake as I could be," he added. He reached out and patted the waitress on her forearm.

"Uh...I'd be happy if...uh...Connie and...Belinda would join me," he said, thinking fast. He thought he remembered the names correctly.

"Thank you," the little girl trilled. Her high, small child's voice was clear, her words easily understood. Ryan had been expecting the woman to reply; he'd been looking at her and not at the young child. He glanced down, but the youngster had already walked around him and had climbed onto the bench seat.

"May I have my boos'r seat, please?" she asked sweetly. She held out her hand, pointing behind him.

Confused, Ryan looked around at the woman he guessed was the little girl's mother and then saw the booster seat the waitress was holding out to him.

"I'm so sorry," Ryan said contritely. He took the seat from the waitress and held it steady on the bench while the girl climbed in.

"Thank you," she said, smiling up at him.

Ryan stood back and was about to move over to the other side of the table when the youngster interrupted again.

"I want my mom to sit over there," she demanded. She pointed at the opposite bench seat. "You sit here." The little girl was pointing at a position next to her own seat. Ryan looked up at the girl's mother, confused and more than a little apologetic.

"She's soooo shy and unassuming, isn't she?" the woman asked in a soft contralto. Her lips parted in a wide grin. She gestured at him to go ahead and sit.

"If it's all right with you, I don't mind," she added. The little girl's matching grin decided the issue for Ryan.

"I'd be most happy to sit with you," he told the child with mock formality. He slid into the booth beside her. He could see the delight in her eyes and couldn't help but respond. It had been a long time since he'd felt welcome anywhere.

"I'm Ryan," he said, introducing himself.

"Connie...Consuela Robertson," the woman responded, "and that's Belinda, the terror of the Vargas Preschool," she added, motioning toward the towheaded youngster beside Ryan.

"Mommy!" Belinda protested, scandalized. "That's not nice."

Ryan chuckled, completely enchanted by the woman and her daughter. The woman extended her hand and they shook. He liked the feel of her hand in his. It was slender, very feminine, but it had strength too. He looked up at her.

"Do folks call you Connie...or Consuela?" he asked matter-of-factly. She hesitated, giving him with a vaguely hooded look.

"I like Consuela," she said, "but Connie is okay. Lots of people call me that," she added quickly.

"Consuela is a beautiful name," Ryan replied. "It...fits you better than "Connie," I think. Is it okay if I call you Consuela?" he asked.

He watched her for a reaction that didn't come for a long moment. He was beginning to think he'd made a bad mistake.

"I think I would like that," she said quietly.

They two matronly women in the booth behind Ryan stiffened slightly. They smiled knowingly at each other. Consuela had moved here just after her baby had been born, coming home after a bad marriage had ended in divorce. Little Belinda was four...four and a half, now. It was the first time anyone had seen any sign Consuela--Connie to some--had shown any sign of enjoying a man's presence. The two women sneaked looks at the three when they got up to leave. No one in the booth noticed.

Chapter 3

Wednesday found Ryan waiting for Consuela and Belinda before he ordered breakfast. When they came through the door, Belinda shook free of her mother's hand and raced through the tables to him. Her last two steps included a little hop to launch herself into the air for him to catch her.

"'Linda!" her mother scolded when she caught up. "You know you're not supposed to do that."

"It's okay, Mommy," the four-year-old explained. "Mister Ryan catched me."

That settled it as far as she was concerned. She went on to another topic.

"I'm going to sit on his lap today and eat brea'fus," she announced.

"Honey, I know he catch...hecaught you...but what if he hadn't seen you coming or something? Besides, you don't even know if Mister Ryanwants you to sit on his lapor eat breakfast with us."

Belinda looked into Ryan's face for a quick instant and then turned back to her mother.

"He does," Belinda said succinctly. There was no doubt in her voice. Ryan cleared his throat.

"It's true, but to make it official," he said, "Miz Robertson, would you and the charming Belinda care to join me to break your fast?" he said lightly. He and the woman shared a chuckle as they arranged themselves around the table they had this morning.

Belinda did sit on his lap for a good part of the meal, sitting up to eat morsels from his plate or hers, and then lying back to rest contentedly against his chest. Toward the end of the meal, she got restless. When one of her playmates came in with her parents, Belinda scrambled down to go visit. It left Ryan and Consuela alone for the first time.

Things were suddenly and unexpectedly awkward. Neither could find the proper opening.

"You don't remember me, do you?" Consuela asked unexpectedly.

Ryan cocked his head and looked closely at her. He studied her for a long moment. Her long, raven hair framed the finely molded features of her face. Her fair skin was flawless. She wore, and needed, only a small amount of makeup...only a little mascara on her eyelashes and lip gloss on her lips. Actually, her dark eyes didn't need anything more to make bring out their loveliness. Her lips were full and...he'd already admitted it to himself...very inviting. He knew when he stood, the top of her head was right at his chin; she was probably five feet and maybe six, seven inches tall. She had a slender body with generous curves at the breast and hips, and her legs...from what little he'd caught in quick peeks...were excellent...no, they were outstanding.

"Consuela," he said finally, "if I've seen you before, I'm reasonably sure I would remember it. I'm not in the habit of forgetting beautiful women," he said with finality. None of his words gave any hint of anything but a serious answer to a serious question.

Consuela colored slightly, both from his close examination of her before he spoke and the words he used.

"Well, it was only twice, and both were very quick," she said. "At the bank where your wife works?" she prompted. "A long time ago, the girl next to me cashed a check for you once while your wife stood with you. That was before I got transferred to Mr. Michael's section.

"Then, Carrie waved at me another day when you were there and you turned around to see who it was. Remember that? A year and three months, maybe year and a half ago?"

Ryan shook his head. He tried to place the woman sitting across from him in the bank setting, but failed completely.

"I'm sorry," he said. "If I was with Carrie, I probably was talking to her or listening to her...or trying to...or something," he said lamely.

"So youdoforget women on occasion eh?" Consuela grinned to take away any sting in her words.

"I had to have beenbadly distracted at the time," Ryan protested, chuckling at the same time. "If I was with Carrie she would have been working hard to occupy all my attention...back then anyway."

"I know," Consuela said. She looked Ryan in the eyes for a bit. She thought she seen something when Carrie's name came up.

"Howis Carrie these days?" she asked suddenly.

She nodded her head when a wall slammed down behind his eyes.

"You know then," she said in a sympathetic tone. Ryan frowned. Consuela shrugged.

"I was...I left there two months ago. Everyone at the bank...even all the customers who've seen them together...know what's going on."

Ryan snorted softly and shook his head. His eyes were clouded and troubled.

"They're not even trying to hide it huh?" She shook her head.

"They did for a while but most of us could see what was happening. From what I hear from a couple of friends who are still working there, it's gotten more and more..."

"Obvious?" Ryan suggested.

"Worse.Brazenwas the word I was going to use," Consuela replied. "For what it's worth...I'm sorry. Everyone down there thinks Mr. Michaels is a real ass. No one knows what Carrie sees in him."

"Yeah, I'm sorry too," Ryan said quietly. "I've suspected it for about three months and I've been collecting proof for the past couple of weeks," he told her. "I think I have enough now to hang the both of them," he added. Consuela looked at him in surprise.

"An interesting choice of words," she said finally. Ryan could see an excitement building quietly. Her eyes were bright, she was breathing quicker. She glanced quickly around to check on Belinda.

"I...I didn't leave my job in San Antonio exactly the way I...implied I did," she said finally. "I left because I filed a sexual harassment complaint against Sean Michaels and...it went up all the way to the main headquarters in Chicago," she said.

Ryan waited. He'd been waiting since Monday for Consuela to open up. He'd known there was something.

"After a while...a few months...the complaint came back down. The Chicago office said the complaint had not been substantiated and they couldn't act on it."

Consuela's face flushed with anger at the memory. Her dark eyes flashed lightning.

"After that, I got a couple of bad performance reports. Three times, the accounts I was handling had minor...and very temporary...balancing problems and they wrote me up," she said bitterly. "A little research and they all came into balance but that didn't seem to matter. They didn't do anything to anyone else for differences that had to be researched, but of course, me...me, they slam."

Consuela shifted in her seat for a long moment, fuming at the way she been treated. It had humiliated and infuriated her at the same time. Ryan nodded encouragingly to get her to continue.

"They shifted me over to the investment banking division for a while, but a woman came back from her maternity leave and all of a sudden, there was no slot for me. After a while, they made it clear I would have to go back to working as a window teller. Not only that, I would be working every weekend and I was going to be moved eventually to a special late shift they were setting up so they could advertise the drive-through was open late. They knew I had a young daughter and there was no way I could take those hours."

Consuela's voice was strained. She was frustrated and mad. She looked around and forced a smile when she caught Belinda's eye and the little girl waved.

"They let me go easy, I guess," Consuela continued. "I'll give them that. Nothing was ever said, but it was plain I could quit and they'd give me good references. If I stayed, I'd see my daughter so seldom she'd forget what I looked like...and if I pushed the complaint, I'd be blacklisted and never work in a bank again."

She was breathing deeply; she couldn't sit still. Her fingers twisted and twinned about themselves in her lap. Consuela's pain and anger were ghosts sitting at the table with them. They joined the ones Ryan brought in every morning with him. All of them were so real they could have reached out and touched them.

Consuela shut her eyes tightly, willing herself to be calm. It took a while but the trembling slowly eased. Her face relaxed; her shoulders slumped.

"Hi, Mommy," the little voice came as a shock. Neither of them had noticed Belinda coming back to the table. "Mommy?" Belinda asked worriedly. "Are you crying?"

Consuela's eyes had snapped open at Belinda's first words. Now she leaned down and opened them wide to show her daughter there were no tears. She forced a gentle smile onto her lips.

"No, honey," Consuela said. "I just had them closed to think a little bit," she explained. Belinda looked doubtful, but she let it pass.

"Tasha and her Mom and Daddy are eating so I came back," she told her mother.

"And I'm glad you did!" Ryan exclaimed. He swept the little girl up in his arms and pulled her onto his lap. "Now..." he said, "I'm still not quite sure where it is that you're ticklish."

Belinda began squirming on his lap, already anticipating being tickled. Her tiny hands flew up to her neck to protect the sensitive flesh there. Ryan's hands darted to her ribs and tickled the small child for a few seconds. When Belinda dropped her hands, he shifted to her neck and Belinda shrieked.

"'Linda!" Consuela said quickly. "You can't..."

"It was my fault," Ryan interjected.

"I know better, don't I, Belinda? Give me a hug and I'll quit," he told the little girl. She didn't want him to stop but she knew what she was supposed to do. She wrapped her arms around Ryan's neck and hugged tightly.

********

"I have a confession to make," Consuela announced. The noise from the children racing through the large plastic tubes overhead was almost deafening. She had to lean close to Ryan to make herself heard without shouting.

Ryan had suggested the McDonalds out by the Interstate after asking them to dinner. He'd known Belinda would love the playroom. She'd barely been able to sit still long enough to eat her three chicken nuggets and a couple of french-fries.

This was the first time Ryan had seen the mother and daughter except over breakfast, and also the first time they'd been together twice in the same day. Wednesday was turning out to be a day of firsts.

Ryan looked at Consuela for a bit, digesting what she'd said.

"You'd been wanting to tell me about Carrie and also about your sexual harassment complaint since Monday?" he guessed. Consuela's eyes widened, and then narrowed again.

"You knew?" she asked in a tight voice. He could tell it wouldn't take much to light up a temper that was easily sparked anyway. He'd only known her three days and he knew that much about her already. To save himself, he shook his head.

"I knew there was a reason Trish sat you at my table," he said carefully.

Trish was the head waitress and hostess at the café who'd taken Ryan under her wing at the café. Trish had taken the time to talk with Consuela and Ryan for a long while when they paid their breakfast bill this morning. It had been a nice exchange.

"I hoped it was because of my masculine beauty at first...but then I got a look at myself in the mirror," he said. His tone was light and cheerful.

"That left only that you'd asked her to put you with me because you wanted to talk to me about something...or wanted something from me, once I eliminated a couple of less savory possibilities. They just didn't fit who you are," he said quietly.

"I figured you'd get around to it sooner or later...and in the meantime, I was having more fun with you and Belinda than I've had...in so long I can't remember the last time."

The woman flushed faintly. It looked good on her.

"That's part of it. I guess I should have just come out and told you when I recognized you Monday," she mumbled.

She tried to get mad because Ryan had guessed she had a reason for seeking him out the last couple of days...but it wasn't happening. He was so disarming with his candor she couldn't summon even a tiny kernel of anger.

"I didn't mind," Ryan assured her. "I enjoyed your company...I already told you I did." He looked at her speculatively. "What is it you think I can do for you?" he asked. Consuela took a deep breath.

"Well, we didn't get to everything this morning. I don't just have a sexual harassment complaint anymore. I have a suit I filed in Federal court three weeks ago. I was wondering...I was hoping...I could get you to testify to...the fact that Sean Michaels is having an affair with your wife," she said.

"My attorney doesn't know about you yet, but she's told me in the past if we could show Mr. Michaels has continued to do the things he tried to do with me, we have a chance to..."

She threw her hands up in the air, giving up the explanation. She looked at Ryan for a moment.

"Me too," she added diffidently. Ryan's eyes scanned hers. A blank, confused look came over his face while he wondered what he'd missed.

"I enjoyed...me and Belinda have enjoyed having breakfast with you too," Consuela offered by way of explanation.

Ryan's features cleared and he smiled.

"I'm glad," he said quietly. There was a small silence.

"If it will help for me to tell what I know about the affair...sure," he said, returning to the original conversation. "I'm not up on lawyer things but I'll testify to anything I can," he told her.

"You know for sure?" Consuela said in a low, intense voice. "You can say youknow Michaels is...is...that he's..."

"Actually having sex with my wife?" Ryan asked. Consuela nodded, too embarrassed to speak.

"Oh, yeah...I can testify to that," Ryan assured her. Consuela sat quietly, her eyes holding his. Hers were filled with a sudden sympathy.

"Maybe not," she said hesitantly. "Maybe you shouldn't...it might not be a good thing...there'd be questions...and..."