Somebody That I Used to Know

Somebody That I Used to Know

By blackrandl1958

I was feeling LW, so here I am, back on my bullshit. This is one of those hybrid LW/romances. If that isn't your deal, you've been warned. Les suspects habituels n'ont pas besoin de se donner la peine de commenter. Tu sais ce que je vais faire. Tu vas juste perdre ton temps. Tu sais qui tu es. Shoutout to Gotye for the inspiration. I must thank my team. Harddaysknight is my mentor and gives me critical review. My editors and readers are SBrooks103x, Cagivagurl, Stev2244, GeorgeAnderson and Hale1. I thank you all. Randi.

This is a preview story for my December event, "When a Man Loves a Woman." If you enjoy it, I hope you tune in December 5 for stories by great writers on the theme.

It was difficult for me to imagine that I'd ever be in this position. I had no good explanation, didn't see it coming and couldn't see any way out. I sat on the barstool and nursed my drink, trying to imagine what my life was going to be like.

Two hours before, I had been on a service call. I'm a network troubleshooter, and own my own company, providing companies with network engineers on contract. When people have computer problems, they get a repairman. When every computer at a major business has problems all at once, they call me. I still keep my skills sharp by going out in the field occasionally. It's high stress, high intensity and high pay. People are going crazy, everything comes to a standstill and they think I should be able to just wave a magic wand and everything is back to normal. Sometimes I can do that. This wasn't one of those times. Oddly enough, this was the brokerage firm where my wife worked. She didn't work in the building I was at; she had her own office across town, but I knew she came there occasionally. They had over 200 computers and not one of them could get on the network. They were hemorrhaging money and hovering over me like my mother used to.

I got the network up and made them leave. Now I just needed to figure out what had caused the crash. It was totally accidental. I was just looking for tracks, hackers, viruses or any explanation I could come up with, running diagnostics. The files for that sort of thing are usually hidden so I looked for hidden files. There are quite a lot of them. Most of them are system files that are hidden because you aren't supposed to fuck with them. They're hidden so that morons don't accidently screw the pooch and destroy their system. I looked for files that weren't system files and there were several of those, too. One folder was in a very strange place. It was in the system folder, about three levels deep, and it was labeled "Christmas Party." It was the third week in February, so I doubted that anyone was planning a guest list. There were three MP4 files in it. I ran a scan on them and the first one came up with a quarantine. It had a nasty little worm in it. I made sure it was quarantined and checked the second. It had the same problem. The third one was clean, and I ran it. It showed an office scene. It was kind of dark, but four people came in and turned on the lights. They were in various stages of inebriation and there were three guys and one gal.

It took them about three minutes to get her naked, and they fucked her like a cheap whore. It was like watching a home movie, except it was porn. I wasn't interested after about the second minute, so I just moved it to a flash drive and deleted it off the system. It took me a while to get the other two scrubbed clean and I opened the first one. It wasn't much different. There were five men and two women. I repeated the process.

The third one was a little different. This was a different looking office. It had some nice furniture, leather sofas, big comfortable looking chairs and a bar. A tall, distinguished looking gentleman was sitting at the desk sipping a drink. After a minute, the door opened and a younger man and an older man came in. They were escorting a young woman who appeared to be intoxicated. She had long blonde hair and I couldn't see her face in the video.

"I've waited a long time for this," the older man said. "We're going to have quite a party." I recognized this guy from somewhere. I tried to think of where I might have seen him. Then I remembered. We had been at a convention and Argent had introduced had introduced him to me. He was the senior manager at the main office of the parent firm of her brokerage franchise. I thought he was a twat, but she seemed to like him. I didn't think any more about him until I saw her dancing with him. I didn't like the way they were dancing; his leg was between her thighs and it looked like she was grinding on him. I don't like my wife dancing with other men without my permission, and definitely not like that, so I cut in. She was mad at me, but I didn't give a damn.

"Argent, I'm leaving now," I told her. "You can come with me or catch a cab, your choice."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked.

I turned and walked away. She followed me and she was sputtering mad when we got in the elevator. "You didn't ask me if you could dance," I told her.

"You jealous prick," she yelled. "I need to be here for networking. I told you that when we came. You don't own me! I don't have to ask your permission."

"You're wrong," I told her. "I do own you and you own me. I own your body. I don't own your mind. You're free to do whatever you want. As long as we're married, I own your body. If you decide I don't, we'll just have to live with the consequences."

"Are you threatening me?" She was incredulous. "Stop this elevator right now! I'm going back."

I pushed the button for the next floor. The door opened and she stalked down the corridor to the stairs. I watched her until the doors closed. Argent was a gorgeous woman, no question about it. She was perfection in miniature: silky blonde hair that swirled around like it was alive, tiny little perky titties with nipples made for love, slender, but with curves in all the right places and an ass that would give a zombie wood.

She could have anyone she wanted, and I always felt extremely lucky that she'd picked me. I wasn't feeling lucky as I rode the elevator down. I left the hotel, got the car and drove home. I was fuming all the way.

I poured two fingers of rum and took it upstairs, where I changed into shorts and a t-shirt, then went down, outside, and sat by the pool, watching the lights rippling with the slight motions of the water.

I hadn't been there long when I heard a car in the driveway. I suspected it was Argent, but I didn't move. The car pulled back out and there was silence. She came and found me. She stood in the doorway that opened onto the deck for a minute, looking out at me, I figured, then went back inside. Five minutes later, she came outside, also changed and with a drink.

She pulled a chair over by me and sat down. We sat in silence for a few minutes. "How angry are you, Julian?" she asked.

I sighed. "I was pretty steamed. I'm just disappointed, now."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I reacted badly. I apologize."

"No, you didn't 'react' badly," I said. "You ACTED badly."

"I'm not trying to piss you off here," she said, "but please explain what I did that triggered you like that."

"Argent, we have a rule," I said. "We have it for good reasons. I don't mind you dancing, I even enjoy watching you. The rules are that if we're asked to dance, we always ask each other if we mind. If I don't like the man or you don't like the woman, we have agreed that we can say no without any reason, right?"

"Yes," she said. "You weren't there when Dean asked."

"Then you should have waited until I got back or came and found me," I said. "We also have that rule so that if either of us don't like the person asking us, we can give the other one a look and they can say no."

"I get that, but he's my boss. I wanted to dance with him and you weren't there."

"See objection "A," above," I said. "That's not all. It was the way you were dancing."

"It was just a dance," she said, but she looked down, like she was embarrassed.

"Do you usually grind on the leg of the person with whom you're dancing?" I asked.

She turned red and couldn't look me in the eye. "Sorry, I had a few drinks. No, I don't, to answer your question. I apologize for my actions, and reactions."

"We'll forget about it, okay?"

"That's what I want," she said.

We went inside and she proceeded to destroy me. Her sexual appetite had always amazed me. Her hunger and desire knew no bounds, especially that night.

I hadn't thought a thing about it after that. Watching the video in that office brought the episode into crystal clear focus. Now, I was looking back, wondering if that party was the continuing of something deeper, wondering if it was the tip of the iceberg, wondering... I looked closer. The woman in the video was Argent. It was around Christmas, because she'd cut her hair after the first of the year. I watched, and she was plainly drunk or high, but still able to navigate.

What happened next left me in shock. They got Argent dancing, sandwiched her between two of them, and over the course of the next 15 minutes by the time counter, got her naked and used her in every imaginable way. I sat there for a while, trying to decide what I was going to do.

I copied the files, saved them to my flash drive, cleaned up two more infected files and got everyone an email that the network was back up. I spoke with the division head and told him he should keep his employees from surfing for porn.

He asked me who it was, but I told him I couldn't tell. I was so damned angry, hurt, depressed, every possible emotion sweeping through me in waves, my mind was in turmoil, nothing made sense. It was hopeless; I needed to escape the feeling of walls closing in. I called my PA and told her I was going home.

I got there about 30 minutes before Argent was due home. That gave me a minute to compose myself. It gave me a chance to figure out how to approach her. I needed a drink to try and calm my nerves. I just couldn't get my head to stop spinning. How do you process information like that? My wife, fucking not just another guy, but three of them. That didn't seem like a first time, one of a kind, event. I sat and thought about what I was going to do. When she came in, she put down her stuff and came to sit on my lap. I looked at her. She didn't look any different than usual. I guess I was expecting to be able to see some difference in her, some guilt, shame, or something.

That told me something. She was good at this. I had detected not a single change in her. She was exactly the same, no difference in the way she acted or treated me. How could that be?

She snuggled in. "Have a good day, baby?" she asked.

"No, the worst day of my life," I said.

She squeezed me. "I'm so sorry. Want to talk about it?"

"Well, I got a call from Milligan and Wright," I said. "Their network was down."

"I got an alert," she said. "Was it hard to fix?"

"No, a virus," I said. "I had to dig around in the files."

She didn't seem to be worried about that, so I figured she didn't know about the recording. "Want to see the file?" I asked.

"Umm... I wouldn't know a virus if I saw one," she said.

"You might recognize this one," I said.

I had my laptop on the little table beside my chair. I picked it up, stuck the flash drive in and pulled up the first video I'd seen.

It started playing, and she stiffened. "Recognize anyone?" I asked.

"Yes, that's Maria. She's in sales," she said. "One of the guys is a broker."

"I wonder if she knows she's being recorded?" I asked.

She sat up suddenly and looked at me. I could see the fear in her eyes. "Is that... is that the only file?" she asked.

"No, there are two more," I said. "Wanna watch?"

She was trembling, now. "No, I don't," she said.

"I know, Argent," I said, trying to keep the anger, the hurt, all those emotions out of my voice.

"Oh, my God!" She jumped up. "Julian... I..." She burst into tears and fled, running up the stairs. I heard the bedroom door slam, and I sat there, waiting, lost inside my head.

Fifteen minutes later, I heard a bumping sound, and she was coming down the stairs, carrying one suitcase and dragging a larger one. She stopped at the foot of the stairs. "Julian... I'm... I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, me too," I said.

She was crying as she went to the door, looking very small and alone. I had no emotion. That morning I would have been horrified. At that moment, I was just numb. She was gone, and I was alone.

I had questions, of course, but the answers would likely not bring any peace of mind, just more pain. I had no idea what I was going to do. How is it possible for your life to go from 100 miles an hour on a closed track to into the ditch in less than a day?

I went to the bar and poured a shot of bourbon. I knocked it back and poured another. I picked up the shot glass, then set it back down. No sense in this, I told myself. I'd just feel rotten in the morning. Instead, I went to my box and looked through the labels. I found a Banana Frosting, and I was feeling an Indica, so I sparked it up.

I was soon floating, and it didn't take me long to become drowsy. I went to bed, and didn't remember any nightmares when I awakened the next morning. Now, I just had to figure out what I was going to do the rest of the day. My carefully ordered existence was obviously a mess. Maybe it was time to get spontaneous.

I called Marcie. My big sister had been there for me all my life, and this was no exception. I told her I needed her, and she said she was on the way. I called in to my business and told Olivia she was in charge until further notice. She was better at everything I did than I was, anyway. We wouldn't miss a step. It's good to be the owner with a protegee who was more talented than you were.

Marcie came in and I gave her a hug. We sat on the sofa, she cuddled me and I told her the tale of woe.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I have no idea," I said. "I'm thinking I'm going to pack, get in the car and head west."

"Where west?" she asked.

"I have no idea," I said. "Will you help me?"

"I might if I knew what you wanted," she said. "This is so unlike you, Julian. You have the next 99 years planned in minute detail."

I laughed. "Well, look where that got me."

She smiled. "What about Argent?" she asked. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm not," I said. "Let her think. Why should I have to think?"

She giggled. "I have no idea. I'm not married, remember?"

"Yes. Why is that?" I asked. "I always wondered."

It was odd. She was drop-dead gorgeous and had a string of boyfriends and girlfriends as long as my arm.

She laughed. "I'm a slut, Julian. I thought you knew. I couldn't be tied down to one partner. I'm not looking for that. I'm perfectly happy single. I like options. Hell, I am the option."

I grinned. "Yeah, I know. I'm not going to worry about Argent. She was obviously not worried about me. Maybe she's a slut, too, but without the decency to admit it. If she wanted to stay around, she would have."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. So what do you want me to do?"

"Find me a property manager," I said. "Lease this place. Do your thing. You're a big shot attorney. You know all the moves."

"I'm not a divorce lawyer," she said. "I know shit about that. Are you going for a divorce?"

"I'm not doing anything," I said. "Let her do whatever she wants. If she doesn't and I want to get married again, you can hook me up with one of your associates who does know about divorces."

"I can do that," she said. "Are you going to keep me up to date?"

I hugged her. "Of course. I love you so much, Marcie. We're family. Maybe I'll become a slut like my big sister."

She laughed. "I don't think you've got the temperament for it, Bruh, but knock yourself out. Make me proud."

*****

It took me five days to get free, during which I never heard a word from Argent. Of course, I made no effort to get in touch with her, either. I got my shit together, packed the essentials and I was ready. I was going to drive and see where I landed. My baby was loaded to the gills.

She was a 2013 Viper SRT10, in yellow and black. Not much of a cargo space, but I made do. I didn't need much: clothes, laptop, and that was about it. I was off.

It was 444 miles from St. Augustine to Mobile, and that's where I stopped for the night. I wasn't in any hurry, just enjoying being on the road, the rumble of the V10 soothing to my soul. My thoughts were full of what had gone down, of course. You don't spend seven years in love with someone and that doesn't occupy your mind when it ends. Really, I could think of little else, and I suspected that was going to be the case for a long time to come.

I played scenarios over in my mind: Argent coming up with some explanation I could accept and getting back to where we were. I played with that fantasy. I also plotted devious plans of retribution and ruin. I was definitely going to visit some wrath on the three sons of bitches who I could identify. I had no idea if that was the extent of it, but I could only deal with what I knew.

I was up and on my way early. I booked a hotel for a week in New Orleans. I had never been there, and I was going to explore. I figured that would keep my mind occupied. It did. It was only in the hotel at night, by myself, that the demons came, tormenting me with visions of what was and what might have been.

I went out and prowled around, visiting the famous locations, staying out late at night, listening to live music. I asked women who caught my eye to dance, enjoyed their company and went back to my room where it all closed in again. I was getting frustrated. Every time I wasn't doing something to occupy my mind, reality came crashing in and I was getting nowhere fast.

I waited for that text or snap that never came, checked my email obsessively, rolled over in the night to snuggle my wife and woke up to a seemingly infinite sadness. I called Marcie, and she kept me up on things. She was sort of my lifeline, and I was grateful.

A week of frustration had me on the road again, and I spent two days in Houston, went to a baseball game and had fun. San Antonio and the Riverwalk were cool. I liked the town and thought of staying a while, but in the end, I was just too restless. Something was pulling me west, I hit interstate 8 at Tucson, prowled around and did all the tourist things, and a week later, I stopped in Yuma for the night.

It was late when I got checked in, about 11PM, and I could hear music coming from the pool area. It was an outdoor pool, and I had seen a sign that it closed at 11. I carried in my bag and laptop, plugged the computer in, then realized I had forgotten my phone.

I went back down to the Viper, and there was a bit of a commotion coming from the pool. The guy who had checked me in was trying to close the pool. There were five, obviously inebriated, guests who wanted to party on. There appeared to be two couples and a girl by herself. They were arguing with the desk guy, and he called the cops. I went back up and watched from my window.

Three of the guys thought it would be a good idea to fight the two cops. That worked out for them as expected, and they arrested everyone but the girl by herself, who left when the desk guy first told them to leave. She passed in front of the window and noticed me there, acting startled.

She continued past and I heard her muttering as she was at the door. She went back down to the pool area and appeared to be searching for something after the cops hauled off her friends. I stepped outside and leaned over the rail. She went into the office and I could see her talking to the guy. Evidently, she was frustrated there, and she came stalking up the stairs.