“Omigod!” I sputter.

Connie and Beth turn to me in unison. “What is it?” asks Connie.

“That’s Penley!”

“Are you serious, Kris? You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking.”

“I thought you said she was out in Greenwich,” says Beth.

“I know. That’s what she told me.”

The three of us look back out the window. The man is whispering something in Penley’s ear. Sweet nothings, it appears.

“Wow,” says Beth. “You never mentioned how good-looking her husband is.”

“You’re right,” I say. “Only that’s not her husband.”

Chapter 76

I JUMP UP FROM MY CHAIR, jolting the table and nearly knocking over my iced tea. I sprint for the door with a hurried “good-bye” to my friends.

“Kris, wait!” I hear Connie call.

But I don’t. I can’t. This could be important, a key to unraveling everything.

Spilling out of the restaurant, I immediately look across the street. The “Don’t Walk” sign now reads “Walk.” And Penley’s gone.

So is Stephen. Tall, dark, and handsome Stephen. Her lover, from the look of it.

Quickly glancing around, I spot the couple farther down the sidewalk. Before I know it, I’m following them.

I can’t believe this. The plot, as they say, is thickening.

Not only is Penley having an affair, the guy is someone she set me up with as a blind date!

But for all my disbelief, there’s something else.

Relief.

I’ve been dragging a full measure of guilt like a heavy suitcase since the first day Michael – “a married man” – and I got together.

But now, seeing Penley cheating on him, suddenly I don’t feel so bad.

Yeah, I know, two wrongs don’t exactly make a right. It simply makes it a little easier.

I continue to follow Stephen and Penley. They’re not arm in arm or holding hands, and to the passerby they could just as easily be friends as lovers.

That is, until they reach another “Don’t Walk” sign. It’s as if something comes over them, or, more specifically, over Stephen. As they stand waiting at the corner, he can’t take his hands – or lips – off her.

Penley doesn’t stop him, but I can tell she’s aware they’re out in public. She has a lot of friends in the city, and though they’re mixed in with about eight million strangers, one can’t be too careful. There’s no telling when someone she knows might see her.

Like me.

The “Walk” sign flashes, and the make-out session gives way to their continuing stroll. I fall right in step while confronting my next emotion. Fear.

There’s no way Penley and Stephen only started seeing each other in the past couple of days, and that can mean only one thing.

She knows.

Something, at least. If Penley doesn’t know for sure about Michael and me, she at least suspects. What else could explain Stephen’s dinner talk about being involved with someone married? Was he trying to help her get a confession from me or was it all about screwing with my mind?

Either way, Penley’s “setting me up” with Stephen was truly a setup! And I didn’t see it.

This changes everything.

The two of them come to a stop at the next corner, and Stephen picks up where he left off with more tonsil hockey and some pretty serious groping. Penley’s going at it now too. They really ought to get a room.

I stand on the sidewalk a half block behind them and miles away from being able to collect all my thoughts and emotions about this new development. There’s so much to think about; there are so many angles to consider.

That’s when I realize what I should be doing.

Don’t think, just shoot.

I reach for my camera. If I’m quick enough, I’ll get them tongue kissing before the light changes.

Only I don’t feel anything where I’m reaching.

No camera. No shoulder bag. I forgot to grab it when I bolted out of the Comfort Diner.

Shit fire and save matches! I think.

And I remember who used to say that -my dead father.

Chapter 77

“WHAT?”SAYS MICHAEL.

I start to repeat myself, but he heard me the first time. He just can’t believe it. Or is it me he can’t believe?

We’re standing before floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room of the Wall Street apartment his company provides for out-of-town VIPs. Apparently there are a lot of them, because we’ve only been able to meet here a few times. Those were romantic interludes, however, and something tells me there’ll be a lot less sex tonight.

“Are you sure it was Penley?” Michael asks. “This isn’t just a fantasy you’re having?”

“I’m positive. I saw it with my own eyes.”

I’m trying to put myself in his shoes. Less than forty-eight hours ago he was rescuing me from a Brooklyn hospital before they could check me into a padded room.

Now this bombshell.

Maybe I’d be a little skeptical too. Especially when I tell Michael that I didn’t have my camera with me. He knows I practically sleep with it.

So with no pictures -no proof – all I’ve got is my word and his trust in me.

“And you’re sure it was the same guy she set you up with?” he asks.

I nod. “Yes, it was that ‘cute guy,’ Stephen.”

“That would mean…”

“Exactly,” I say.

“But how could she know? We’ve been careful.”

I shoot him a dubious look. “I distinctly recall the Maytag club, among other things.”

“Still, I’d know if she knew. Penley would be trying to kill me, not playing games.” He begins to pace, thinking out loud. His neck and face are getting very red. “She sent this guy out to dinner with you on a reconnaissance mission? I mean, the woman has balls, but we’re talking King Kong cojones here.”

“It doesn’t seem so crazy if she only suspected we were involved.”

“Trust me,” he says. “What you’re telling me is crazy no matter how you slice it.”

The word seems to hang in the air – right above my head. Crazy. Does he think that’s what I am? Also, he’s starting to get very pissed. Maybe even at me. I do not need one of your meltdowns here, Michael.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” I say.

Michael abruptly stops pacing. He comes over and takes me in his arms. “Of course I believe you,” he says. He tacks on a loving squeeze lest there be any doubt.

But there is doubt. I can hear it in his voice. I see it in his eyes. He’s not really sure what to think.

Of all the ways I thought he might react to the news, uncertainty wasn’t in the mix. I could understand his anger, and even resentment. I could tolerate a twinge of jealousy. No man likes to share a woman, regardless of whether he loves her.

Nonetheless, when the emotional dust settled, what I hoped for from Michael was that he’d see this the same way I now do – as an opportunity. No longer the only adulterer in his marriage, he won’t have to worry about being raked over the coals in a divorce settlement. Once and for all, he can do what I’ve always wanted him to do.

Dump Penley.

“So now what?” I ask.

“I want to sleep on it,” he says. He stares at me for a moment. “You’re absolutely sure it was her, though, right, Kris? You’re certain.”

“Yes,” I answer. “I saw them.”

I’m sure of it.

At least I think I am.