Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Sheila brought in my mail.
She had placed an A4 envelope marked PERSONAL in Savannah’s handwriting on the top of the pile. For a second, I was too stunned to react. Then, I snatched it up, tore it open… and froze.
What the fuck?
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
I put the photograph on the desk and stared at it incredulously. So this was the proof of infidelity Savannah kept referring to. Clearly, I had not paid enough attention to her claims. Not only had I been too consumed with my own plans of revenge for Robert, but I had also made the mistake of dismissing her accusations as another facet of her jealous nature. In my defense I had good reason. When we first met, more than once, she had harbored feelings of insecurity and expressed unfounded suspicions about women I barely even realized were in my vicinity.
I stared at the photo curiously.
Was it a fake? CGI? If it was photoshop it was excellently done. I picked it up and peered closer. No, it was not a fake. The photo was of such high resolution I could even see the pores on my skin. I stared at the naked woman entwined with my naked body. Nope, no recollection of her at all. Nothing.
Carefully, I studied my surroundings in the photo. It looked like a hotel room, but not one I would have frequented. Still, I had obviously been there. I focused on the painting above the bed. Something familiar about it. I closed my eyes, frowned, and tried to cast my mind into the past. Where did I see that painting? Suddenly, my eyelids snapped open. Of course, the hotel room in Dallas when I went to the developer’s convention held a few months before Robert framed me.
But I didn’t go to bed with anyone!
I scowled as I tried to recollect the totally unremarkable occasion. Now when I think of it I had a very vague recollection of one of the nights when I had one glass of whisky at the bar downstairs, felt strangely dizzy and went straight to my room. The last thing I remember was falling into bed. I woke up the next morning with a terrible hangover and I had put it down to jetlag and too little sleep.
Bending my head, I restudied the photo more closely.
To anybody looking at this image, especially if they were in shock, it would indeed have seemed as if the woman and I were in the throes of mad passionate love, but I noticed something crazy. I was under the woman and she appeared to be kissing me deeply, but my body actually looked sort of passive, my hands were hanging around her loosely, as if they had been positioned around her. The more I concentrated on that fact, the more certain I became that I was not even asleep, but passed out so dead to the world I didn’t even know there was a woman on top of me. Still, someone had gone to a lot of trouble. I noticed other details, what appeared to be sweat glistening on our bodies. I supposed that was easily achieved with an Evian spray can.
I sat back and steepled my fingers under my chin.
It came to me like a bolt of lightning. Robert was involved in this. This was part of the set up. And then, as if the universe itself was helping me out of the mess of my life, Robert suddenly burst into my office, with a flustered Sheila rushing in after him.
“I’m sorry, Max. He just burst through. Shall I call security?” she asked, glancing nervously at him.
“That’s okay, Sheila. I’ll call if I need anything else,” I said softly, turning the photo face down while not taking my eyes off him.
“Told you it’d be okay, Sheila.” Robert grinned, then winked at her. “Don’t forget to put that business card away carefully now. I’m looking forward to a call.”
As he considered her retreating ass with wolfish interest, I watched him. He was wearing make-up, probably to cover the bruises around his eye. When the door closed he turned his attention back to me.
“She’s a dead ringer for Savannah that one. It must be easy to make up for the real thing. I’m sure you’re tapping that, huh.”
I remained calm. “What do you want, Robert?”
He took a seat, propped an ankle across a knee, then leaned back and looked around. “Nice setup. Cool office, and a spectacular view, too.”
“What do you want, Robert?” I repeated, this time I could barely conceal my disgust.
“Nothing really. I just came by to say hello. This ‘war’ between us is juvenile and bad for both of us. Don’t you think it’s time for us to let bygones be bygones and call a truce like adults… like men?”