I'm Heather 32, My peers would say I'm a fun-loving wholesome gal, very attractive blonde. My previous husband was caught cheating, he called me a prude and said he needed satisfaction from various sources. That was the year I not only turned 26 it was when I developed an inventory tracking app; I worked diligently, and my company is now worth 8 figures so have been invited to speak at a convention in Vegas for female entrepreneurs. It's Dec. 23rd I'm sitting at a table in the hotel restaurant my food arrived several minutes ago, but I'm frantically trying to arrange an earlier flight to Chicago.
Sarah another speaker I've met several times; a very successful cosmetic entrepreneur arrives. "Heather, you look distraught, what's wrong?" She sits beside me.
"I'm afraid I might be stuck here for Christmas; I'm booked on a flight outta here at 7:30 but there has been a storm warning issued to hit Chicago around 8pm threatening to close airports, they advise alternate Christmas travel plans.
My concern is
I can't seem to make any alternate connections to be home for Christmas. I may be stuck here until Boxing Day or longer. The only flight that might get me home before airport closure leaves at 2:30 with one seat available, I'm scheduled to be today's speaker at 2. I'm considering cancelling and leaving now to get home for Christmas, there is a strong likelihood Evan is going to propose tomorrow."
"Oh, what a dilemma Heather, I might have a solution I've reserved a private jet to New York leaving at 3; if the pilot agrees to a route change you could fly with us and be home by 6:30. Let me make a call."
With an anxious sigh I take a forkful of my salad, my stomach is knotted, I'm tense.
"Sarah sets down her phone smiles at me, "Done, the pilot agreed it's hardly out of our way and he is currently changing his flight plan."
"Oh Sarah, thank you, I don't know how I could ever repay you."
Sarah caressed the back of my hand licked her lips and gazed into my eyes with a sensual breathy whisper "Heather, we'll discuss that on the plane, I've an idea." She leisurely ran her fingertips up my arm as she stood. Brushing my cheek "See you later I'll be waiting with the limo."
Her implication was obvious, finishing my salad I realized I was just propositioned by another woman. I was stunned, how am I gonna tell her I'm expecting to be engaged tomorrow and am faithful to Evan.
I present my speech to a standing ovation of nearly 2000 women.
Sarah has a limo waiting outside the hotel, 15 minutes later were on a private jet taxiing the tarmac, a stewardess pouring us champagne. 3:10 we're in the air.
We are sitting on the same side of the jet facing one another.
"Heather I'm curious why you expect Evan to propose, have you discussed it, did you accidently find the ring, or did you help him pick it out?"
"No, it's the fact he's been so attentive lately."
Oh, do tell, how?" Sarah sips her champagne her eyes peering over her flute.
"The last few months he brings flowers for no reason, draws me a bath with candles and wine. He rubs my feet without me asking, cuddling with me more often."
"Hmmpff that sounds like guilt, I bet he's cheating on you."
"No, Evan wouldn't, he knows how devastated I was when I caught Simon with his secretary destroying my first marriage. Evan helped me get through that; he convinced me all men aren't cheaters."
Sarah sets her empty flute in the receptacle. "Men are fickle, weak, when their small mind, the one between their legs sees something new, shiny, something they think they are missing becomes available, they justify the risk reward and become irrational and cheat. Then soon after thinking with their slightly larger brain, they feel the guilt and try hiding the secret, usually continuing until caught."
"No, not Evan, I'm sure." I finish my champagne.
"Ok, Heather I hope you're right; we're going to be in the air for a couple hours, maybe we could entertain each other sapphically." She undoes a button on her blouse, and winks.
I gulp, I knew this was going to present itself. "Sarah, I'm expecting Evan to propose tomorrow, I'm not into women."
"That's fine Heather, I've been lesbian all my life; I've learned there are 3 types of women, those who have done it, those doing it and those who dream about it. I don't care what category you're in; I find enough doing it to meet my needs. Heather you're a damn fine-looking woman, and I love women, I had to ask." She smiled broadly nodded, "Please accept my apology if I offended you."
"Not needed, I guess I should be flattered."
Sarah got up went to the galley.
I try contacting Evan with no success, I choose not to leave a message, I'll surprise him soon enough.
It was over an hour later when Sarah returned, her hair a bit messed up, her blouse untucked, skirt askew, what was left of her lipstick was smeared. I'm confident the stew most likely was looking similar. I smile, guess they both are in all 3 categories. I close my eyes; I find myself thinking about it for my first time. I discern how many women in the past have hit on me, and at the I brushed it off as nothing.
We touched down at 5:50 I caught a waiting cab at the entrance and at 6:25 was paying the cab driver in front of our apartment, at least a full 5 hours earlier than my originally scheduled flight.
I unlocked the door, dragged my suitcase in, I was about to holler 'I'm home', when I spot a pair of women's boots a lady's coat and scarf on the coatrack. Looking across to the coffee table is an empty bottle of wine 2 glasses a purse 2 phones and Evan's laptop, I hear a feminine giggle from the bedroom.
No Evan, not you; DAMN, Sarah was right.
As I enter the hallway, my heart broke, my stomach knotted, tears formed.
There is a gal across Evan's lap getting her bare bottom spanked. I step to the side of the doorway and start recording on my cell phone.
Evan's only wearing a Santa cap "You've been a naughty girl Leona," slap, slap. "This is the 3rd time this month." Slap, slap, slap, slap."
"Ahhh Evan, but I'm sooo very nice to you afterwards."
"Santa only gives gifts to nice girls." Slap, slap, slap.
"Evan, I don't want a gift, I want you to tie me up and ravish me like you did at Thanksgiving."
My hurt is turning to rage, it has been guilt not love he's been lavishing me with.
Evan threw her on the bed rolled her over and cuffed her. I had seen and recorded enough, feeling betrayed, sick to my stomach I go to the sofa with thoughts of getting a butcher knife and reenacting Lorena Bobbitt's discipline on him, or 'off him'.
Furious, quivering I pick up Evan's phone, it's not locked so I scroll his logs. He and Leona work together, they've been hooking up at least once a week since October. I rummage through her purse; she's married with 2 boys.
Ok, I don't have a lot of time here think; what's the best way to hurt Evan as much as he's hurting me.
I'm inspired instantly with a terrific holiday getaway idea.
I hastily open Evan's laptop; a quick search and I book a last-minute New Year's celebration aboard a Ritz Carleton yacht, a Mediterranean Adult Only cruise leaving Rome on the 30th and going to Venice. A few more clicks and a flight from Chicago to Rome on the 28th confirmed.
I then book flexible date flights from Venice to Australia, then to Paris then Chicago all open ended. All on Evan's credit card.
With moans increasing in the background, I quickly construct a Christmas message on Evan's email with the damning video attached. I preprogram it to be sent on December 25th at 5:07 pm to his entire email contact list.
That done I synchronize Leona's phone with mine, as I'm not sure what to do to her at this time.
There are some very loud moans coming from the bedroom, noticing the powerful aroma of sexual activity wafting in the air I take a few quick pics of Evan sodomizing the bound Leona.
I put on my boots and coat and take my rolling suitcase and depart. Downstairs in the entrance I call a cab, in the beginning of a snowstorm I go to Chicago's most prestige hotel, the Trump International and use Evan's credit card information to book in.
I get the most expensive suite available and once I kick off my boots and toss my coat on a chair, I immediately order a seafood platter and a bottle of champagne from room service.
I was seafood stuffed, reclining on the huge bed with a flute of champagne.
Every man I've been in a long-term relationship with has cheated on me. This cruise will be a reset, my business is running smoothly, providing me an adequate income, I'll try enjoying the single globetrotting lifestyle, I'll not get caught in another relationship.
I gulp down the champagne and reach for a refill, I envision Evan on the bed spanking Leona. The thought sparked an arousal, it wasn't Evan it was the spanking and Leona's enticing red derriere; I'd never been promiscuous maybe that's why my men strayed. Sarah pointed out men seek what they think they aren't getting. Maybe I am too much of a puritan. I never even had thoughts about being with another woman until she brought it to my attention, I know several female acquaintances have propositioned me; maybe a lesbian liaison is something I should explore. Again, Sarah's wisdom comes to mind. Those done, those doing, and those wishing.
My phone pings it's a text from Evan: I see you tried calling, my phone needed charging. I assume it was to tell me your flight was cancelled. It's storming bad here. I trust you're still in Vegas where it's nice and warm. It doesn't look like there's any hope of us being together for Christmas except for Skype. I miss you, love you, stay safe call me soon.
I ignore it. I pour another glass of bubbly, lie back fantasizing about the cruise.
It was mid-morning when I realized I fell asleep still in my clothes. I opened my suitcase, got out my least wrinkled dress, which happened to be a strapless, tight fitting black micro mini cocktail dress.
