"Wise up" my best friend Julie told me. "You're boyfriend is a cheat and liar." I didn't want to believe her, but Julie had a real knack for figuring people out. She is about six years older than me, has been happily married for five years but had gone through a whole series of guys that looked good on the surface but were really jerks, and has developed real "relationship radar."
Let me back up a little. My name is Ginger. I live in a conservative mid-sized Midwestern City in the U. S. [I'll call it "Midwestern City"]. Despite my young age (25) I'm City Comptroller. How I got the job is another story; I'll summarize it real quickly. I graduated from an out-of-state college by the time I was twenty, took to an Assistant Comptroller job in Midwestern City like a pig to mud, and when I exposed fraud by my boss the City Council gave me the job.
To be honest with you, the universe of men worthy of a relationship is not the best in Midwestern City. Lots of male chauvinist pigs, guys who contract with the City and think they can get a leg up by romancing me, and religious zealots who believe a woman should stay at home and be pregnant or barefoot depending upon the season. That's why I was pleased to find Greg.
As even Julie admits, Greg is very handsome and usually very charming too; we make a striking couple since he's 6' 2", long dark hair, brown eyes, and I'm 5' 2", short blond hair, blue eyes, both slim. He has a good job evaluating bond and related offerings by English speaking countries, particularly Australia and Canada, for an international hedge fund. He's not a male chauvinist or religious zealot but there is one thing about him that really bugs me. He is the biggest homophobe I have ever seen. The comments he makes when he sees two girls or two guys together are so disturbing it was the subject of our biggest fight – and he no longer makes comments when I'm around but I can still see his angst if, for example, two girls are holding hands!
Anyway, Julie can cite enough reasons why her radar is up with him that I've decided to "investigate" him. He often travels to Australia on business for two weeks at a time. He can never leave me a number to reach him at a hotel – he just gives me a business number with some lame excuse about the time difference. He never asks me to go with him, but swears there is no one there he is interested in and that I am his one and only and as soon as he is a little more established with the hedge fund he wants us to get together for good.
I had two weeks vacation coming, and I decided to go to Australia to shadow him since if he is a cheat and a liar like Julie says I wanted to know right away, then dump him. Julie's husband owns a private security company and gave me a high end GPS tracking device and taught me how to use it. It's very simple. I put a small emitter in Greg's wallet when I stayed over at his place one night, and if I am within three kilometers of its location I can pinpoint it to within five meters.
Greg always flies business class to Koala-land, so I bought a coach ticket on the same flight, invested in a long brunette wig, a large pair of sunglasses, and a new dress of a style and color much different than my normal wardrobe, and was ready to go. Even Julie didn't recognize me in my getup, and she is much more observant than Greg is so I was confident that he'd never notice me.
Everything worked according to plan and expectations – too good, damn it. I took a cab that I directed with the GPS locator to follow Greg's, and instead of going to a hotel he went to a residence on the outskirts of Sydney. A woman greeted him at the door – I couldn't see the greeting well. I saw the woman come out to get the mail – the name on the mailbox was Wylde – and then excitedly go back in. Wow, she was gorgeous. Much different than I was. About 5 ' 6 ", long brunette hair, voluptuous, sparkling! I knew in my heart this had to be the paramour Julie predicted, but I wanted to be sure and to see if he was misleading her the same way that he was misleading me.
I had the cabbie take me to the nearest hotel – less than three km away so I was still within GPS range – and rented a car. My plan was to follow them if they moved; unfortunately they didn't leave the house all day or night. I knew what that meant.
The next morning I showed up at the Wylde residence early and followed them in the woman's car as she dropped Greg off at his work place, saying goodbye with a passionate kiss. Then I followed her to her place of work, trying to find out as much about her as I could.
She went into the Sydney Tourist Bureau. I had to develop a plan on how to meet and pump her for information. I went in, made some inquiries, and found out that she was the Director of the Tourist Bureau. In one of the most definitive Eureka moments of my life I instantly formulated a fool proof plan.
I asked to see Ms. Wylde about the possibility of bringing my City's Government executives to Sydney for a Conference and working session. She came out to see me.
"Hi, I'm Linda Wylde, the Director. Pleased to meet you," she said, extending a strong but silky smooth hand. Seeing her up close, including the twinkle in her eye and perfectly chiseled facial features it was no wonder Greg was attracted to her – just touching her gave me a little shiver.
"Thank you so much for seeing me without an appointment. I'm Ginger Spice" [no, that's not my real name], "Comptroller of Midwestern City. I'm here on holiday but love your city so much I want to talk with you about arranging a trip here by our whole City Council."
"Wonderful, Ginger. I'm busy this morning but could we meet at 1 p.m. to talk about it?"
"Great, I'll be back then."
When we met at one I was as friendly as could be, and she was too. I almost forgot why I was there she was so pleasant – I guess that's why she's Director of Tourism. But I snapped out of it and used our quick bonding to ask about her love life.
"Actually, there's an American I've been seeing for some time – actually from the same city you're from, his name is Greg Gore, do you know him?"
"I think I might. Is it serious between you two?"
"Well he talks about getting married, but I don't know how it would work – who would move to a different continent."
"Does he have anyone in the U. S.?"
"He says I'm the only one. But it is a little funny because when I mentioned visiting him in the U. S. he found a number of reasons why that wouldn't work."
I decided to come clean and tell Linda why I was there. At first she was taken aback and defensive. But I made it clear to her that I was not in any way judging her; all I was interested in doing was seeing if Greg was the cheat and liar Julie said that he was, and that she should be interested too. I showed her photos of Greg and I together. Her attitude changed immediately – "You bet I would like to know," was her reply.
She didn't want to draw a conclusion without testing Greg – and I didn't blame her – so we devised a plan. I hand wrote a note that said "Have a great trip sexy – can't wait until you get back to Midwestern City. Love, Ginger Spice." Linda would tell Greg that night that she found it by his luggage, and ask him about it to see his response. We made arrangements to meet the next morning at a nearby restaurant for breakfast.
The next day when Linda came into the café, I could tell she was hopping mad. "I'm afraid you're friend is right. He is a cheat and liar."
"What did he say when you showed him my note."
"He said that Ginger was a mental patient in a hospital he did volunteer work in who fantasized she had a relationship with him, and must have snuck that note in when he was there the day before he left. I asked if he ever went out with her and he said 'God no, she weighs 300 pounds and has warts and sores all over the visible parts of her body, and halitosis to boot.' The worst part was that he said it totally deadpan without any emotion whatsoever – clearly he is a pathological liar."
