Christopher was fit to be tied. Outraged didn't quite cover it. He had just received an email from his superior, it was his responsibility to handle the Cloverfield representatives. He was going to reply Mark usually handled company reps when they came to visit, sadly the email had included Mark was dealing with marital issues and was unavailable.
"Fuck!" he said in his office.
To 'handle' a client meant you wine and dined them outside of work hours. You showed them the town, whatever that entailed. His own marriage was not as rock solid as it used to be either. His wife had been distant recently. When he approached her to talk about it, she seemed hesitant to get into the conversation. She would also put it off, suggesting the weekend...but then she always had things going on during the weekend, usually with one of her mom groups.
He rubbed his temples. Then went to his secret file, back behind the reports was a bottle of Glenfiddich and Macallan, along with tumblers. He poured half a cup, and took a swig. He walked back to his desk and hid the rest behind his wife's photo.
"Well shit! This problem isn't going to go away, I might as well deal with it." he muttered.
He got on his cell phone and sent Mark a text.
"Any tips for handling the Cloverfield reps?" He hit send.
After a few minutes he got a reply. "How many days are they here?
"Thursday, Friday night, fly out Saturday," he texted back.
"Take them to a fancy restaurant Thursday, put it on the company card. Where are they staying?"
"The Hilton at Crossroads."
"This is where it gets 'odd'. Ask the concierge for help prior to Friday. Ask them how to 'entertain' V.I.P. level clients. They should give you several options. Make arrangements prior to Friday evening. Also, the company keeps disposable funds available for you to get a room for 'safety reasons'. Why not also take advantage and be 'entertained'?" Mark texted.
Chris was stumped. That last part sounded cryptic, yet suggestive at the same time.
When he got home that day, he told his wife Samantha he had to take care of clients, Thursday and Friday nights. She just nodded, seeming absent.
"Are you going to be out late?" she asked.
"Yeah, it's practically guaranteed we'll be having drinks. I have to make sure the company they're from is happy, so I have to make sure they're happy."
"Okay, just text me if anything comes up."
*****************
Thursday, Mark walked into his office and took him to meet the clients from Cloverfield LLC. A conference room was already booked and other staff members were there, including the president.
"Chris, this is John Newcastle and Frank Castillo from Cloverfield. You already know Samantha and Pam from accounting and logistics; they are interfacing with them and making sure our two companies are on the same page when it comes to software and procedures."
"Hey, Christopher," shaking their hands.
"Where are you taking them tonight Chris?" said president Van Buskirk.
For a split second Christopher felt in the spotlight, then said "Le Fontaine, exquisite French cuisine in the heart of downtown. And within walking distance of Hilton at Crossroads."
"Excellent! I'm sure you'll love the place," looking at the Cloverfield reps, said Buskirk.
"Tell the maître d' to pair your dinner with a wine from my private collection." Buskirk said, looking at Christopher.
"Yessir, you got it!"
Chris wasn't so hesitant about this chore anymore.
Chris arrived at the Hilton at 6pm, but headed over to the concierge first. When he saw the young man, he was clearly very professional and sharp.
"I need to entertain some V.I.P. 's for my company, I was told you were the person to ask."
"Yes, of course. Allow me..." he was writing down information on his business card. "There you go. They bill discreetly, so you can put it on your company's credit card."
Chris put the business card in his jacket pocket, not even realizing what he had just been told. He went to the lobby phone and dialed the room of the visiting business men, letting them know he was waiting in the lobby. While he waited, he looked at the card. On the back it listed three websites; Tryst.com, Cinderella.com and AshleyMadison.com. He typed in the first into his cell phone browser when a hand clapped on his shoulder. He put his phone in his pocket, and looked up. It was Frank, and John was walking up behind him.
"Ready?"
The dinner was succulent to say the least. Chris ordered the Lamb Chops with a Cognac Dijon Cream Sauce, while his guests ordered BÅ“uf Bourguignon and Moules marinÃères. When the waiter asked about drinks, Chris told him "Please pair each of our dinners from Mr. Buskirk's private collection.
The hour and a half they spent was well worth not being home. The conversation flowed easily and was very relaxed, with the wine's help. They talked about anything that came up, and the two men were all smiles during dinner and after.
"So what's the plan for tomorrow?" John asked.
"I'll let you know tomorrow. Any preferences?" he replied.
"Italian would be nice," said John. "I wouldn't mind Japanese" put in Frank.
"I'm on it!" Chris said as he gave the waiter the company credit card.
They called it a night, and Chris drove them back. When he got home, the lights were off and was heading to his bedroom when he got a text. It was Frank.
"Thanks for the great meal. Can't wait to see where we go tomorrow."
Chris texted back. "I'm sure I can find something you'll both enjoy."
This reminded him, and he opened up his browser. Tryst.com had loaded, and his jaw dropped when he saw it was a high end escort service. As he flipped through the profiles, he couldn't believe how beautiful and sleek these women were. They all could legitimately be models or actresses. Then he remembered what the concierge said "They bill discreetly, so you can put it on your company's credit card."
His eyes lit up. Then another remark came to him, "...the company keeps disposable funds available for you to get a room for 'safety reasons'. Why not also take advantage and be 'entertained'.
Now, he started looking at the profiles in earnest. He was able to find several Italian ladies, all of them gorgeous. Likewise, there were many Japanese ladies, a few in kimonos and some in modernized Geisha robes. He selected one for each of the men. The website also had an optional information box. He filled in the hotel and room numbers of the two men as well as when to arrive. He started looking for blonds, something that might remind him of his wife. As he scrolled through, he found a young lady, 19 and with an incredible body and long waist length golden blond hair.
He looked closer...it couldn't be. No...it was.
He was looking at his daughter.
The photo's didn't show her full face, they cut off just above the lips. But her beauty mark, just to the left of her lips, was there. He couldn't help himself...he looked at the risque lingerie and nude pictures. He knew she wasn't a girl anymore, but he hadn't realized how amazing her body was. But then, as a first year college student, she came home wearing sweats and frumpy but comfortable clothing.
He couldn't.
He shouldn't.
He reserved her anyway. Making the same arrangements as he had for the other two. Then realized he didn't have a room. He switched to his phone and dialed the concierge. When he got through he requested a room on another floor than his guests. When the concierge asked for a name, he said "Put it under name Mr. Buskirk."
With that, he went to bed. As he lay there, trying to sleep he couldn't sleep because of his discovery. It made him both appalled but also aroused in ways he never thought he would be. Which made him think of his wife right next to him. He slipped out of bed, and slowly and carefully removed the blankets and sheets. She stirred a little as the fresh air touched her. He began kissing her legs at the ankles and made his way north.
At first, she didn't respond. But slowly as he approached her derriere, she started moving.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm about to make love to my wife," he smirked.
"Not tonight, how about another night?" she said. She grabbed the sheets and blankets and covered herself.
Not tonight. He had been hearing that a lot over the past year and a half.
He went to his side of the bed, and lay there staring at the ceiling. He knew, almost intrinsically that married sex life slowed down and sometimes ended, but he hadn't a clue as to what was going on with his wife. She hadn't always been very sexual, but once they had consummated their marriage, she had been very open to it. She had pulled away shortly after the birth of Bridgette, saying things like she needed time. Almost a whole year had gone by before she started giving him sex again. And it wasn't as much as those honeymoon years when she did. With those thoughts running through his mind, he eventually dozed off.
*****************
Waking up, he looked at his wife. He was an early riser and she was still sleeping. Reaching over, under the sheets, he cupped her bottom. Nudging over, he got closer to her and massaged her posterior.
"Stop, can't you take a hint."
He did stop, but wasn't happy about it. Sighing, he crawled out of bed and took a shower and got ready for work. When he arrived at the office it was his regular day of working, except it being Friday, everyone had a relaxed vibe. Water cooler conversations ran longer and the secretary pool definitely gossiped more. At lunch, he went to a local plaza that had several eateries available with outside seating. He bumped into John and Frank, and sat with them.
"So what's the plan for tonight?" they both asked.
"You'll find out. I'm making the last few arrangements. Same time, and I'll ring you from the lobby."
They returned to the office after lunch and finished the day. When he got home, his wife was in the kitchen prepping the ingredients for dinner.
"Don't forget tonight is my last night to chaperone our business guests."
"Oh that's right. Then I guess I'll just cook for myself. Going to another restaurant?"