Chapter 1
June poured herself another cup of coffee. Today she hoped to finish plans for their summer rental at the Cape. With both kids engaged in summer-abroad programs arranged by their respective colleges, June planned to vacation with Nate as a couple again for the first time in almost twenty years. After much online searching, she had found a rare small private bungalow right on the beach. She was expecting this morning to get an email with the lease agreement from the real estate agent.
She settled into her cozy office in the den, and checked her email.
The message from the real estate agent had not yet arrived. In her inbox were four unread messages. Three were spam from vacation rental agencies. June wondered how the spammers always seemed to know exactly what she was doing.
The fourth message was from an gmail address that started with the word "Jefferson", and had a subject heading: "Thinking of you."
Glen Jefferson and June had a fling in her junior year of college, and about a year after she had started dating Nate. She and Nate had been having some first-year dating squabbles, and had broken up briefly just before spring break. June's affair with Glen lasted for the better part of a weeklong party in Ft Lauderdale. Though they did not know each other previously, they were from neighboring dorms back at the university. Glen was a journalism major. In Ft Lauderdale they had been introduced to one another by a mutual friend at the beach on the afternoon of the first day, when too many sugary rum drinks and had rendered June a little more flirtatious than normal. She and Glen were paired in a coed-two-on-two volleyball game in which they scored not a single point. Thereafter, they hung out together, partying with throngs of rowdy undergraduates by day and shacking up together in his beach-front condominium by night.
On the last day of spring break, June dumped Glen unceremoniously. Soon after returning to campus, she got back together with Nate, and they had gone on to finish school, get married and raise a family together.
June opened the email.
She was dumbstruck. The attached picture showed twenty-year old Glen standing with his back against the wall in a small sunny room. He was naked. Kneeling in front of him, with her back to the camera, was a woman whom June immediately recognized as her twenty-year-old self, also naked. A long red braid dangled down her back, and her round ass rested lightly on the heels of her bare feet. Though the back of her head obscured her identity, there was little doubt about what she was doing in the photo.
There was no text in the message.
June began to panic.
Her affair with Glen had been one of the few things that June had been dishonest about with Nate, ever. She never told him about it. Even worse, she had lied to him when he asked about Glen after hearing a vague rumor from a mutual friend. She told herself at the time, that she lied because there was no need to complicate things. And besides, she and Nate had been broken up, hadn't they? But truth be told, another reason she lied was that she didn't have any reason to think that Nate would ever find out what had happened between her and Glen. Shortly after their breakup, Glen had transferred to a different school.
But whatever her reasons had been at the time, she knew now that this lie was about to unravel. And she was uncertain, after almost twenty years of marriage, how her relationship with Nate would fare after such a moment of truth.
Wrapped up in worry, June had not yet paused to consider how this picture had been taken in the first place. She knew that she had not willingly posed. Glen had obviously taken it without her knowing, probably with a hidden camera. The creep.
She replied to the message, giving her best impression of nonchalance.
"Hi Glen.
I didn't know you kept a souvenir of our trip to Florida. Not such a nice thing to do to an unsuspecting gal, is it? Hope you are well.
All the best, June"
She went back to studying the picture. At least there was no way to tell it was her, except by those who knew all the details about her carrot top and freckled back. But did he have other less discreet shots? With all the fooling around they did that week, if he had hidden a camera, there was no end to the possibilities of embarrassing pictures he might have.
As if reading her thoughts, the computer announced with a beep the arrival of a new email message. It was from Glen.
Again there was an attachment. This one was a black and white shot of June standing on the deck of the condominium, holding a mug of coffee. In the background the surf and sand of the beach appeared deserted and the glow of the sky indicated that the sun was about to rise.
And June was naked, smiling impishly at the camera. She did remember getting this picture taken.
This time there was some accompanying text.
"Hi June.
I know, I could have just gotten the t-shirt, but somehow these souvenirs seem more personal. About that last pic - I guess I never told you I had a remote camera trigger that I was playing with as part of my photography course throughout that spring break. That was one of my favorite shots of the week. There's another couple I really like from that same evening. You remember when we did that standing 69 thing?
You got married to Nate, right? I read in the alumni magazine that you guys were still together. You think he might like an old picture of you?
Best, Glen.
P.S. I need a new screensaver. Would you send me a picture of yourself? Anything is OK, as long as you're naked. And outside. And doing a cartwheel. If I get this by tomorrow at this time, I'll destroy all my old photos of you."
Chapter 2
...two months earlier.
Glen had gone into journalism, and then into public relations. When he ran into Nate at a conference earlier in the month, they recognized one another as former classmates in college.
Nate stifled his angst about Glen long enough to greet him with a friendly handshake and an invitation to get a drink. Over their beer he asked Glen about the rumored tryst with June that he had wondered about for years. Glen, who had apparently taken the breakup with June harder than she did, put the pieces together.
"Oh, you're June's Nate! Right. Yes, you were the estranged boyfriend," Glen said.
He thought for a moment before continuing. "Well, sure, June and I had a grand old spring break hook-up, and then she broke my heart. The bitch."
Nate scowled. "You're talking about my wife. Glen."
"Really? You two got married? No shit!" Then he paused. "Sorry, but she did break my heart."
Nate conceded, "After twenty years together, Glen, I can confirm that sometimes she can be a bitch. So, I guess there's no need to apologize. But I'm glad she came back to me." He raised his glass.
Glen clinked it. He was surprised by Nate's camaraderie. This gave him an idea.
"I'm thinking about telling you something, Nate," he said cautiously. "I'm married too now, and I'm wondering what I'd want you to do if our roles were reversed."
"Go on," Nate prodded, after Glen paused.
"You see, while we were on that vacation, I took some pictures of June, and she wasn't always wearing so much. And worse, I took some of them using a hidden camera and a remote trigger, as part of what I pretended to myself at the time was part of an avant garde art project. Those were even more provocative and involved some bedtime activities. It was a dickish thing to do I guess, but I figured if I didn't share them with anyone, it was my own business," Glen concluded.
"For fuck's sake, why would you tell me that!?" Nate replied, horrified. "Too much information, dude. Now I have to go around not only knowing that you fucked my wife, but also that you've got pictures??" Nate grimaced.
Glen shrugged. "She wasn't your wife then, Nate. Besides, you guys were broken up. I'm telling you because... well I don't exactly know why, to tell you the truth. I looked at those pics plenty in the old days, but I haven't seen them in years. They're in my attic, tucked away somewhere my wife won't find them. Sorry I brought it up. I guess I might be still a bit of a dick. Tell you what, I could dig them up and send them to you. Consider it a belated wedding present."
Nate shook his head. "Glen, you're a piece of work. I'd have been happier never knowing they existed. Why would I want pictures of you fucking my wife?"
Glen shrugged. "Most of them are just beautiful candid shots of her at age twenty, Nate. I'd love to have those of my wife, whatever the source."
Nate demurred. "I think I would prefer it if you would just destroy them."
Glen raised his glass. "Of course. Done. The day I get home."
That was when Nate got the idea that he could make use of this bad revelation. He said, "On second thought, Glen, now that the genie is out of the bottle so to speak, how about if you send me the pics?"
"You would want to see them?" Glen asked, surprised.
"Well not all of them, Glen. But I think I might use it to get a little payback with June for deceiving me about you," Nate smiled.
Glen's eyes widened "She never told you about us?"
"Nope," Nate said.
"Dude! I told you she was a bitch," Glen laughed.
Nate shook his head "Nah, she's just a little deceptive. But I might be able to set that right."
Glen nodded. "You got it man, I'll send them next week."
Chapter 3
Nate's plan was simple. He would establish an email address that looked like it was from Glen. Then he would use the contents of the tape to blackmail his adorable wife. He didn't know exactly where he would try to go with this little scheme, until he saw the pictures.
Glen had, true to his word, sent a manila envelope that contained about 100 photos of twenty-year-old June. It came on a Saturday. Some were clearly posed, most were candid. And there were a few, maybe six or seven, that made Nate wince. They showed Glen and June on a bed full of rumpled sheets, both naked, and engaged in various sex acts. The feelings they evoked in Nate were a confusing mixture of carnal attraction and jealous anger.
Nate brought he photos to his basement office. June almost never interrupted him there. He used his private all-in-one -printer to scan them all into his computer. Then he sat at his desk for about two hours, scrolling through the photos.
