Thanks to oldnakeddad for his support and editing skills.
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My private detective told me Steve was a creature of habit, so I joined the Thursday evening happy hour crowd in a swanky, downtown Charlotte, NC bar (where Steve frequented) at five fifteen—I knew he'd be joining his friends within the next few minutes.
I wasn't nervous about the confrontation that would start shortly after he arrived, or the new direction of my life, because I'd come to terms with my new reality very quickly...in less than one week! I had to admit, that glass of Knob Creek bourbon helped me relax.
I'd been staring at the bar top, as the lounge area filled up around me, when I looked into the long mirror behind the rows of liquor and spotted Steve. He'd joined his friends, and the waitress had already placed a tall beer on the table in front of him.
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Steve is a big and handsome man. I'd guess he's ten years younger than my fifty-two years. He easily tops six feet tall, is trim, and athletic looking. He has blonde hair, blue eyes, and the classic, chiseled good looks. I could see why my wife (Lori) had been drawn to him during her frequent business trips to her Charlotte corporate office.
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My PI was able to get the basics. Steve had joined the company two years prior, he was a director in the Marketing department, and was roughly the same level as Lori's position in Sales. They worked together on many projects and often traveled together to customer locations.
I didn't hire the PI to do a great deal of digging because the hard-core evidence had been provided by Steve and Lori themselves.
After finishing my drink, I ordered a second and closed out my tab. I made my way across the lounge and stood next to their table while looking down at the five men and two women who made up Steve's group.
"Hi, Steve. I'm Chris Harrington, Lori's husband! I'm hoping we can find somewhere private to talk."
Initially, Steve looked confused. His face showed a smile, but his eyes spoke volumes of deep concern.
"Umm, Chris! Hey, good to meet you! What are you doing in Charlotte?"
"I flew down to have a private talk with you."
"Well...umm...I'm here with friends. Do you think we could meet up another time?"
I scanned the lounge—it was filling up quickly—then nodded my head toward an empty booth at the back.
"All I need is ten minutes. I'll grab that booth."
As I left Steve's table, I saw him chug the remainder of his beer and order another. He looked worried when he joined me a few minutes later.
"I can't imagine why you flew all of the way to North Carolina to talk with me. It would've been much easier to call."
"I wanted to meet the man who's been having a sexual affair with my wife!"
My quick and to-the-point answer took much of the wind from Steve's sails before he could answer.
"Umm...it's not what you think."
I laughed.
"It's exactly what I think! I was able to gain access to the cloud-based server where you and Lori hid the videos. Now I have copies of all sixteen!"
I didn't think Steve could've been more surprised.
"You have copies of them?"
Instead of answering, I asked, "How long has it been going on?"
"I don't know...exactly. There were four of us on a trip to Allied Corp. in Cleveland—I'll guess it was a little over a year ago. Lori's computer battery died, so I loaned her my computer. I don't know how it happened, but she found a fetish site that I frequent."
"Well, Steve, that shows you how stupid I am! I thought the affair was in the six to eight month range."
Steve bowed his head.
"It didn't get...physical...for a while. Lori was intrigued, so we talked and emailed about it before—"
The rest was left unsaid.
Neither of us spoke as we gathered our thoughts.
"Chris, she loves you! You know that, don't you?"
I nodded in agreement.
"I love her, too. That's why the divorce will be so tough!"
Steve almost yelled.
"You can't be serious! You're going to divorce her? Over this?"
"I deserve better than a lying, cheating—"
I groaned.
"I want to call her a slut, but I don't know whether or not what she does qualifies her as a slut...but it does qualify for divorce!"
Quiet settled over the table for a surprisingly long time until Steve inquired.
"Chris, what are you going to do with the videos?"
"Well, I don't want to ruin Lori."
Suddenly, I was bone tired and only wanted to leave the bar.
"Steve, I'm going to go because I fly home early tomorrow morning. Lori left here for Philly this morning and will get home tomorrow afternoon—she and I will talk then."
I looked into Steve's eyes.
"Don't you say a fucking word to Lori, you sick piece of shit. I'll know if you do, and I will send those videos out to everyone you know!"
I gulped down the last half inch of Knob, slammed the glass on the table, and left for my hotel.
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***Chris***
As new empty nesters, Lori and I had committed to each other to take two, two-week vacations together each year. For the upcoming fall vacation, we'd planned to fly into Vancouver and were looking forward to eating and drinking our way south as we drove along the Pacific coast to San Francisco, with stops in Seattle and Portland along the way.
It was Friday, and I'd just reserved a car for our vacation and also made our first class flight arrangements into Vancouver and home from San Francisco. It was while I made our hotel reservations that I discovered the first hints of Lori's affair.
Lori and I each traveled for business. It was our habit to use accumulated airline reward miles to purchase our plane tickets, hotel points for our rooms, and car rental points for our car while on vacation. The rewards points were one of the few benefits of business travel and they defrayed our vacation costs.
For every previous vacation, we'd always had enough points to cover these necessities, but I was surprised when I estimated we'd have to pay for three or four nights at a Marriott for the upcoming vacation...it didn't make any sense!
My travel had held steady at one hundred twenty nights and I'd guessed that Lori was away for her usual seventy-five nights—easily enough points to cover twelve nights in Marriott hotels as we drove along the Pacific coast.
Because we each traveled often, Lori and I had decided it was prudent to share our account information, in case of an emergency while the other traveled. We'd given each other access to our calendars, bank accounts, credit cards, and other personal, online information because we loved and trusted each other—we didn't have secrets!
After I pulled up Lori's calendar and skimmed through her itinerary from the previous year, I confirmed she'd been away for seventy-two nights.
Next, I signed into her Marriott Rewards account and found she'd only stayed at a Marriott property fifty-one nights. A knot formed in my stomach as I wondered where Lori had stayed the other twenty-one nights.
By comparing her calendar to the details from her Marriott rewards points account, I was able to determine that she hadn't reserved any hotel rooms while visiting her corporate office in Charlotte. The knot in my stomach tightened and I thought I was going to be sick—for the first time in nearly twenty-eight years of marriage, I wondered if Lori was having an affair.
I was a linear thinker and wasn't afraid to face a bad situation, however, I wasn't prepared to continue my investigation. Instead, I informed my personal assistant of my intentions and left my office.
"Ann, I need to go to the gym for an early workout."
I changed clothes in our company locker room, jogged two miles to my nearby gym, lifted weights for forty-five minutes, and then jogged back to work. After a quick shower and change, I passed Ann as I walked back to my office.
"Chris, you have several calls to return."
"Ann, something personal has come up. I need an hour or so to finish sorting things out."
"Is that the reason you left so early for the gym?"
While I nodded yes, she continued.
"Chris, is there anything I can do?"
As I shook my head while walking past her and closing the door to my office, I suspected Ann was surprised by the level of my sadness.
All of the tension immediately returned as I sat at my desk, then when my phone rang (seconds later), I became furious!
"Ann! I just told you I needed an hour!"
"I'm sorry! Jim wants to talk to you. He told me to interrupt you."
***
Jim and I had been friends and associates for my entire career. He's the president of the company and its founder's son. I've followed him up the corporate ladder to be his right hand man and VP of Sales and Marketing.
***
