PROLOGUE:
Miranda--Andi--sits up, bolt upright, as the hotel-room door latch clicks closed behind her illicit lover. "What the f...?" she mutters staring at the familiar phone tossed so casually onto the bed. And, while she has never, ever uttered obscenities in front of her fiancé, the gravity of her situation finally dawns on her with the subtlety of a hammer blow. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK, and double-FUUUUCCKKK!!!"
Andi is completely mortified at the appalling realization of her gullibility--catastrophic gullibility. Gingerly, she picks up the offending device and studies it like it was some kind of alien shit. Then, wracking her brain to recall her fiancé's password, she finds that it is no longer password-protected--and gets into it easily. Opening the talk and text histories she finds exactly what she was afraid she would: a detailed account--in both printed word and photographic illustrations--of her adulterous betrayal!
Suddenly, she can feel her whole body flush, suffusing with heat and colour, blushing from her tits to her toes, from her scalp to her heart. She feels terribly, helplessly guilty. How is she ever going to face Kirkland, her husband-to-be?
Andi climbs off the bed slowly, cursing the indignity she allowed herself to participate in, and trying to separate the intense chagrin from the very recent memories of the intense arousal and sexual satisfaction experienced during the afternoon just past. How could she have been so embarrassingly naïve? How could she have been so stupid to have fallen for something like that? And how could she never, in all her life, have experienced anything even half as thrilling as her anonymous assignation had been?
With all those questions flying around in her head, she gets dressed like an automaton, and, after covering the hotel charges on her own card, hiding them, as it were, from Kirk, she reluctantly heads for home, certain she'll be facing the music in the next little while.
Andi does her best to put on a happy face when she greets Kirk, picking him up at the airport upon his return from his business trip--with limited success. On the ride home, she is completely out of sorts. She hardly speaks to her fiancé, responding to his increasingly concerned questions with short abrupt answers, feeling that, if she starts talking, she'll just blurt out the whole sordid account of her shameful betrayal. Barely able to cope, she, somehow manages to say virtually nothing, concentrating, apparently, on her driving, the entire way home.
Understandably, Kirkland misinterprets her silence as annoyance at his negligence; because he didn't text or call her the entire trip. "I'm sorry--okay?" he says, trying to minimize the import of the incidence. "I misplaced--or lost--my phone, so I couldn't contact you." As Miranda shows no sign of softening her attitude, he throws up his hands in frustration. "Jesus! I'm sorry, already!" and, not knowing what else to do, he turns, giving her the cold shoulder right back.
But as they pull into the garage and let themselves into the kitchen, Kirk backs down. Turning to his fiancée, with a look of stark worry he asks, "What is it dear? Are you having second having thoughts?"
"What?" Andi eyes him up and down, totally puzzled.
"Are you having second thoughts about marrying me?"
"What? No." Relief floods her body, making her giddy. Throwing her arms around his neck, kissing him hard. "Of course not, Silly! Whatever would make you think that?" His response was stifled by more passionate kisses.
"You seemed rather upset or unhappy when you first picked me up. I was wondering... is all... is anything wrong?"
"No. No," she explains, "I was just feeling a little... a little... what? I guess you'd say a little off. No quite right." Then, as if to kiss it all better, she concluded, through another set of sloppy kisses, "It's all right, now!"
The secret, persistent humiliation and guilt Andi feels plagues her for a long time. She consistently tries to deny experiencing any thrill, and almost has herself believing it--if it weren't for the flash recollections of an erotic intensity she didn't know she was capable of. Notwithstanding, eventually, even those begin to fade, like a bad dream, dissipating like smoke in the wind, until she can almost convince herself that the whole thing, the whole day, the whole lascivious betrayal, didn't actually happen.
With a heavy feeling of foreboding in the pit of her stomach, Andi, giving no reason, announces that she intends to forego sex for the five-month run-up to the wedding. Straightening his shoulders, Kirk is silently proud of her decision, as he sees it as the next best thing to actually being virginal.
The wedding goes off without a hitch--and is, indeed, a huge success. So, after a quiet honeymoon in Mexico, as they settle comfortably into being married, Andi feels she can finally relax. Now, she finds that she is able to put the infidelity completely out of her mind; any memory of her cheating incident is blocked--her deep-seated chagrin forgotten, and the exhibitionist kink she had discovered about herself is erased from her memory--totally denied--or so she thinks.
EIGHT YEARS LATER
Miranda feels content. Happily married, as she continually tells herself, she has settled into a domestic routine. She and her husband have taken on the traditional husband and wife roles. Or, at least, she accepted said traditional, albeit sadly outdated, sexist role of 'good wife' that her husband had simply presumed to be the only 'proper' role.
Despite her blocked, erased, denied memories, Andi, still entertaining a merciless and amorphous sense of guilt, lets her husband, Kirkland, make all the decisions. Andi is ever-agreeable. Although she won't admit it--even to herself--she makes it her mission to do everything within her power to make her husband happy and keep his life stress free.
That is her penance, she believes, for the terrible sexual betrayal she has committed. And what makes it so much worse, in her eyes, looking through the vague, dimly discernable memories--try as she might to forget it--is how much she had enjoyed it. In fact, much to her never-ending chagrin, she still experiences recollections during not entirely infrequent warm, gushy dreams. Indeed, it is her on-going dilemma that she cannot reveal her past experience, and cannot suggest any sexual variations, as hubby, no doubt, would question where on earth she got those slutty ideas; hence, she has settled into a pretty mundane life, telling herself to be satisfied with what she hasn't lost through her own lascivious stupidity.
As they--Miranda and Kirkland--the Greens have decided to wait on starting a family, they--Andi and Kirk--have rather Puritan sex once or twice a week--just, you understand--to stay in practice: Sundays and sometimes Fridays, and the very odd Wednesday, if they are feeling a bit frisky. It is, Andi admits to herself, generally pleasant; but never spectacular, as, deep down in her repressed memories, she knows sex can be.
Kirk has made it clear, on several occasions, that he wants no surprises, so they always used a condom--"a diving suit," as he calls it.
Exercising his archaic ideas of the responsibilities bestowed on him in his traditional role as husband, and, therefore, ruler of their relationship, Kirk allows his wife get a job and work out of the house--"Only until we start our family," he points out. "Then you'll be a stay-at-home mother and wife." Andi simply accepts this unilateral edict without discussion--as rule of law, still silently penitent. So, for the time being, Andi works as an office receptionist, in a local school. But, having earned a BBA a few years back, she is, quietly, knowing her husband would disapprove, looking for something more challenging and more commensurate with her training.
------------------ X O X ------------------
Walker, on the other hand, has pretty much forgotten his harmless bit of deception--the little practical joke he pulled on dear, innocent, young Miranda. With so many other experiences filling the interval--not the least of which has been the purchase of an established business. In one of those rare 'right-place-at-the-right-time' occurrences he acquired a company manufacturing and distributing sexual aids; hence, he has put the 'Found-Phone' incident completely out of his mind. ActivAids, his new business, has been terrifically successful--exceeding all expectations--making and marketing adult toys and marital aids. They had recently opened retail outlets on-site and online, which are also proving to be very lucrative. While the outlet is, necessarily, a brick-and-mortar store-front, being attached to the plant, it is deliberately classy in its presentation--harking back to the old Love Shops, or The Art of Love. That being said, with all his attention focused on his fledgling business--any memory of the 'Found-Phone-Fun' incident or of sweet Andi has completely slipped from his awareness.
ActivAids: Marital Aids and Adult Appliances has grown enough that Walker Thomas, the CEO realizes he sorely needs help in organizing his office and his desk, or, more specifically, himself. Therefore, he has advertised in the daily newspaper and on an online job site for someone who could function as a personal assistant, a PA, and Jack-(or-Jill)-of-all-trades, as necessary: office-manager experience or Business Administration education being preferred.
Andi reads and rereads the ad, thinking that it sounds almost tailor-made for her: employing, as it would be, her Bachelor of Business Administration skills. Without giving too much thought about what 'marital aids and adult appliances' might entail, she applies, sending off a carefully crafted cover letter and her resumé. In relatively short order, she receives an invitation for an interview, at the head office, which is nestled in a corner of the warehouse, next to the plant. Miranda arrives early, getting increasingly nervous as she sits primly in the front office, in front of the receptionist-come-office manager. Peeking in, undetected, Walker is pleasantly surprised, as he tries to figure out where he recognizes her from.
Andi is totally shocked, when she is eventually shown into the CEO's office for the interview. Walker had had a feeling he vaguely recognized her photo from her application, but as she momentarily froze in the doorway of his office, it suddenly clicked: Andi of the 'Found-Phone-Fun'--all those many years ago!
Walker stands and invites her in, coming around his desk, offering his hand. He shakes her hand, welcoming her, and, indicating visitor's chair, introduces himself--Walker... Thomas--without betraying any recognition.
Seriously flustered, Andi responds flatly, "Miranda Green."
Aha! It's all coming back. She was Miranda Brown--Andi. "Guess she actually did get married," he silently thinks, before speaking. "Nice to see you again, Andi." She stiffens, and cringes, but he is so casual about it, he goes on without giving her a chance.
"You know, I had already tagged your application as potential candidate before I actually recognized you," he tells her, surprising himself with how close to the actual truth that statement is, for, generally, he sticks to the truth only as long as it is convenient. However, in this case, the truth serves him well.
"No! Excuse me. I don't think this is a good idea," Andi says suddenly, standing and picking up her purse and application documents.
"Hold on," Walker quips, also standing up abruptly. "Let's not be rash here. How 'bout we just go through the interview process as if we'd never, ever before laid eyes on one another? Then we can decide what's next."
