Author's note: I have never felt any inclination whatsoever to finish another author's story or to rewrite what he or she has written...until now. I am not writing this story as an attempt to improve upon what the original author has written; I am writing this to provide readers with a different spin on an all-too-familiar plot, to have a little bit of fun, and...well, because I have no other stories to write at the moment.
My sincere thanks to the original author, Ahazura, for graciously allowing me to rewrite the second chapter to his story,
*****
Zero, Fifty, or One Hundred.
"Zero, fifty, or one hundred, Sharon? What is it going to be?"
Bob sat, motionless, at the kitchen table holding three fingers in the air. He appeared calm, cool, and collected as he waited for the answer from his wife. She stood before him wearing her favorite black dress, her eyes darting back and forth and her mouth gaped open. Her gorgeous hazel eyes glistened. She looked like a little girl who had just been caught playing "doctor" with the neighbor boy across the street.
"Well?" Bob asked in a low growl, "What's it gonna be?"
Sharon slowly shook her head back and forth as she continued to stare into his eyes, searching for some explanation that would satisfy her. "You want to go meet with him?" she said at last. "Fine. Grab your stuff. Let's go."
She was oddly silent during the entire car ride to the restaurant. He expected her to plead her case, insist her innocence, and desperately attempt to save their marriage. It was almost insulting that she wasn't giving any effort at all. She simply sat there in the passenger seat, staring out the window into the darkness. When they arrived at the restaurant, she headed straight to the bar. Even though she wore high heels, he had to hurry to keep up with her. She led him to a table in the rear of the bar where a man was seated.
He was shorter and heavier than Bob had imagined, and he wore a beard, which he knew was a turn-off for his wife. Out of all the men in the city who would have given anything to be with her, it was a mystery why she had chosen this one. The man smiled warmly and stood to greet her with arms outstretched, but Sharon gently touched his chest and held her hand there for a moment. His smile faded as he noticed she wasn't alone.
"Luke," she said, "this is my husband, Bob. Bob, this is Luke."
Luke smiled and extended his hand, but Bob merely glared at him and puffed out his chest.
"Why don't we all sit down?" Sharon suggested, taking her husband by the arm.
With some hesitation and an expression of confusion, Luke slid into his side of the booth while Bob and Sharon sat at the other side of the table. Sharon glanced down at the table and noticed a glass of wine in front of her. She snatched it from the table and placed it to her lips.
"Wait!" Bob shouted, grabbing her wrist. "You don't know what's in that. He could've put something in there!"
Luke's jaw dropped. "Sharon? I'm sorry, but what is he talking about? What would I have put in your wine?"
"Bob," she said, gently removing his hand from her wrist, "thinks he's saving me from some sort of predator from one of those awful TV dramas he watches." She casually sipped her wine as a waitress approached the table.
"Oh, I'm sorry," the waitress chirped. "I didn't see you come in. What can I get you, sweetie?" She looked at Bob with anticipation, wearing a phony smile.
"I'm good for now," he said. "I don't plan to stay long."
"Sharon," Luke said, "what's going on here? Did I do something wrong?"
"Oh, I'll bet you wish you did, asshat," Bob snarled. "If I hadn't stepped in when I did, I'm sure you would be by now."
Luke gave Sharon a quizzical look, and she merely shook her head and took another sip of wine.
"I know all about you two, asshole," Bob said. "I know about the dirty dancing. I know about the panties. I know about the kiss on the dancefloor. I know about your dirty texts and the hot date with the hotel room you were planning tonight. I know everything."
Luke looked from Bob to Sharon and back. He wore an expression of complete disbelief. Bob had caught the son of a bitch red-handed and there was absolutely nothing he could say to defend himself. Just as Bob was about to deliver another crushing blow, a man approached their table. He was tall, thin, and handsome, and dressed immaculately.
"Oh my god!" he squealed, extending his arms as wide as they would stretch. "Sharon! It's so good to see you, honey!"
Now it was Bob's turn to wear a shocked expression as his wife rose from the table to embrace this stranger as if he were a long-lost friend. The man sat at the table and grinned from ear to ear, flashing teeth that were impossibly white. He then leaned over and gave Luke a kiss on the lips before turning to Bob.
"Bob," Sharon said, "this is Sam. Luke's boyfriend."
Sam extended his hand, but was forced to wait several seconds for Bob to respond. With his lips formed into the shape of an oval, Bob appeared to frozen in time. Not a muscle moved until he managed to lift his arm over the table and shake Sam's hand.
"Sam and Luke have been dating for...how long?" Sharon asked.
"Over two years," Luke said, placing his hand on Sam's knee under the table. They looked at each other and smiled.
"I...I thought..." Bob stammered.
