John stared straight ahead. An hour had passed since the movie ended. The grumbling in his stomach snapped him out of his trance. John looked at his watch. It was seven o'clock.
'What was she thinking? That was definitely before we got married. Why didn't Pamela... or Sierra... or whatever her name is, tell me? What do I do now?' John rubbed his throbbing head and went to the kitchen to find some aspirin.
'What to do? What to do?' he thought as he popped three Motrin into his mouth and downed it with a glass of water. He picked up his phone and dialed his sister in law. 'That's where she said she was going; I've got to confront her on this.'
"I'm sorry, the number you dialed is no longer in service. Please check your number and dial again."
He tried several more times with no positive results. 'What in the world is going on?' John looked around the room and saw their laptop open. Normally they closed it when they were done. 'Maybe Pamela used it before leaving,' he thought. He clicked the mouse and noticed the PC was in sleep mode, not off. John nervously moved the mouse up to the History tab and clicked. She hadn't erased it. The most recent websites were Priceline and one for Sandals Regency La Toc resort.
John had looked over Pamela's shoulder once when she logged into her gmail account and typed in "GoldStandard1." There was a confirmation from Priceline that she had purchased a ticket to St. Lucia. 'I can't believe it,' he thought. 'She's left me.'
X x x x x x x x x x x x
Paul's left eye twitched. Hacking into Sierra's e-mail account had been a piece of cake. He quickly looked over what her husband had just seen. "Fucking bitch!" he yelled, slamming his laptop shut. He had the videos and was going to be rich. But the voices in his head still screamed at him, "She fucked you over, by never letting you fuck her! And now she's run off to paradise."
X x x x x x x x x x x x
John splashed cold water on his face for the third time. He raised his head and looked in the mirror. Red eyes stared back at him. 'What do I do?' he thought. 'Should I file for divorce? The congregation will understand. She deserted me.' A still, small voice from within whispered through the troubled thoughts raging in his head. 'Call, Jim.'
John grabbed a towel off the rack and wiped his face. He picked up his cell phone and speed-dialed 1. Jim was the head of the Elders at church. John had met him during the search committee's interview process. He was the one person John trusted without question. A man in his late seventies with impeccable integrity blended with years of experience. His sage advice came from patient listening and insightful questions. Above all else, John knew he could trust his loyalty to privacy in all matters. Most of his peers had no one to discuss their struggles. Congregations expected perfection from imperfect men in the pulpit. So, most of them bottled it up until they had an ulcer or nervous break-down.
"Jim, this is John. Do you have a few minutes to talk?"
Jim could hear the shakiness in his pastor's voice. "Sure, John, any time. What's wrong?"
John blurted out, "Pamela's left me and I don't know what to do?"
Jim's confident, yet quiet voice responded. "I'm sure there's more to it than that. Why don't you fill me in on the details?"
John didn't hesitate. He was relieved to have someone he could trust to talk with. Thirty minutes later the most that Jim had said was, "uh huh" and "go on." When he was finished there was silence.
"Well?" John asked, "What do you think I should do?"
Jim response could have been expected. He didn't have an answer, just more questions.
"Do you love her?"
"Yes."
"Has she been faithful to you since you've been married?"
"As far as I know."
"If she hasn't been faithful, would you still want to be married to her?"
"I think so, but I'd need to know why and if she'd change."
"What did you preach on the past two weeks?"
"Jim, you know, you were there. I saw you in your regular spot."
"That's not the question, John."
John exhaled. "On Hosea and his promiscuous wife. God essentially said Israel was whoring around on Him, by not putting him first."
"And?"
"And God told Hosea to go after his wife and take her back into their marriage... and to forgive her."
"An example of God's unconditional love for his people," Jim added.
"So, you think I should go after her?"
"I'm not going to tell you what to do," Jim said. "But you've told me you love her and your preaching God's grace and mercy to your people. I think at the very least you need to find out what drove her to run away. From my time as a psychology professor, I know that individuals that go into the porn industry typically have very troubled upbringings. She obviously had a desire to escape her former life when she met you. She could be having a relapse of some sort or something from her past might have come back to haunt her."
"You're right," John replied. "It would be pretty hypocritical of me not to extend some mercy here."
They were both silent. John waited for his mentor to say something. When he didn't, John added. "Thanks for the counsel, Jim."
"Always here to help, Pastor. I'm just a phone call away."
X x x x x x x x x x x x
The large black man with the linen pants, Tommy Bahama style shirt and tan pith-style hat, used the key card to open her door. "After you m 'am," he said.
Sierra walked through the door and into the luxury she had seen on the website. The internet with all its wonders couldn't capture what she was looking at live. She strolled through the living room, complete with wrap around white couch, dark wood tables, a wet bar and television and out to the deck area. An infinity pool, large enough to accommodate twenty guests provided the beginning of a view to the harbor and mountains beyond. She walked around the side of the pool and looked over the railing. The drop was hundreds of feet to the rocks and surf below. Sierra's stomach quivered and she stepped back. Heights were not her thing.
The bell hop went through the vast list of amenities in the expansive living areas, which was known as the Sunset Bluff Millionaire Butler Villas with private pool sanctuary. Sierra heard his deep voice droning in the background, but her mind was a jumble of mixed thoughts. The life she had tried to rebuild was now thousands of miles away, along with her husband.
"M 'am, may I be of further assistance?"
The towering black man face was lit up with a broad, white smile. Sierra, doubted he had anything but sincere intentions, although the past few weeks had reminded her not to trust anyone. She had lost that edge after she had married John.
"No, thank you, I'm fine." She pulled some money out of her purse to tip him.
"No, M' am, the resort is all inclusive, but thank you."
Sierra put away her money as he exited, closing the door behind him.
She made a bee-line for her suitcase. In less than a minute she had discarded her clothes and was pulling up her bikini bottoms. The tiny black material complimented her olive skin and dark hair. Out of habit she started to put on her top, and then stopped. 'What am I doing?' she thought. 'I have the millionaire villa with my own private pool.' She admired her perfect, natural 34D's in the mirror. 'It will be nice to get an all-over tan.' She spun around and strolled to the pool. Her firm uncovered breasts bounced gently with each step.
The pool was a perfect 88 degrees. Sierra walked in with no hesitation, dropped down so she was fully submerged and then swam under water to the other side. There was a button at the water's edge that simply said, 'service.' She pushed it. In less than 30 seconds there was a knock at her door. The door opened and another black man, dressed in a black suit and tie, with a crisp white shirt. He entered and walked over to the pool. Sierra didn't care that she was naked. Millions had seen her having sex. She stood up and looked him right in the eye. She could feel the light breeze across her nipples and knew they were erect.
"Can you get me a Pina Colada with lots of fruit," she smiled.
