Fem Dom (6 page)

“Okay, Little Miss Clueless. Call her right now. Call this little slutty Justine chick and ask her the name of the restaurant she booked for her boss tonight. Tell her that Clem left something at home that he needs for his important ‘business meeting’ tonight and that you’ll take it to the restaurant.”

“That’s crazy.”

“If he’s really having a meeting at a restaurant, this Justine chick will have to tell you if she wants to keep her job. But if she doesn’t tell you where’s he’s going it means she’s up to no good with your husband.”

“And what if she
does
tell me the name of the restaurant?”

“You’re going have to go down to wherever she says Clem is having his little ol’ dinner and see if everyone’s telling the truth.” Lorraine sat back in her seat, rather pleased with herself for coming up with such a foolproof plan to catch out Tara’s cheating husband. Tara just shook her head.

“You just have an overactive imagination, Lorraine.”

Lorraine jumped forward in her seat and leaned even closer into Tara. “Dammit, I’ll call her then!” She fumbled around in her bag for her cell phone. “What’s the number?”

Tara snatched at it. “No, you won’t.”

“I’ll call information for it then.”

“No, you won’t!”

The two of them proceeded to grapple for dialing rights just as the waiter returned with their salads. Tara and Lorraine composed themselves as their Caesars were placed in front of them. Tara quickly snatched the phone from Lorraine’s hands and called Clem’s office.

Lorraine smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Hi, Justine. It’s Tara. Hey, what’s the name of the restaurant Clem’s going to tonight?” Tara smiled at Lorraine as she waited for Justine’s response. “Bella Luna, at seven? Okay, thanks so much, Justine.” Tara handed the cell phone back to Lorraine with a told-you-so expression.

“Bella Luna at seven o’clock. Happy now?” Tara asked. Lorraine was not impressed.

“Double bluff. Trust me, they’ll both be there tucked away in a romantic corner,” Lorraine insisted.

“God, Lorraine. You’re unbelievable!”

“Unless he lied to Justine and he’s seeing someone else, just like my cheatin’ dirt bag ex-husband did to me. Men are lying sons of bitches. They all think with their dicks.”

And with that, Lorraine shut up at the very moment the elderly couple got up to leave, shooting Lorraine one last disapproving glare as they departed. Lorraine shot one back.

“What’s your freakin’ problem? Shouldn’t listen in on private conversations.”

For Tara, their conversation was now over, too. Lorraine had brought it all back to the same place their conversations always tended to end up: back to the men that had done Lorraine wrong. Tara munched on a ranch-dressed lettuce leaf.

“Yummy salad.”

Clem sat on the edge of his desk listening to two media buyers give the details of the planned Rebakor media blitz that would launch the new logo and new Rebakor fusion-soled running shoes. The deadline for the presentation was approaching fast and Fitz was on Clem’s back to see the projections.

Justine poked her head around the door.

“D’you want me to call in lunch for you boys?”

“Sure, we’ll be a while,” Clem replied. “Pizza good for you guys?” The two media buyers nodded.

“Remember you have a three o’clock with Katrina and Max and then a four o’clock with Jerry and Henry,” Justine reminded her boss as she went to phone in the pizza order. Clem winced.

“Oh, shit. Yep, thanks Justine. Damn! I totally forgot about those guys.”

Back on Dunkirk Crescent, Tara carefully packed up her latest baked offerings to take to St. Augustine’s when something caught her eye. It was the CD that Clem had ejected from his laptop that morning. He’d obviously forgotten to take it with him in the kerfuffle over their somewhat heated exchange.

Tara picked it up. Scrawled in black magic marker was a name:
Britney.
Tara frowned. She took it over to her Mac in the living room. Tara had no idea what might be on the disk or who this Britney chick might be but Lorraine had planted a little seed in her head and now Tara’s suspicions were growing.

She slid it inside her computer and waited. A screen appeared with an icon she hadn’t seen before. Her computer didn’t like whatever she’d just inserted.

File Unrecognizable.

The uncooperative file on the mysterious CD was protected. It seemed to be a text file of some sort but she still couldn’t get it to open. Clem’s computer was a PC so it was a compatibility issue she couldn’t resolve. She needed to a PC to access whatever was on that disk. Tara grabbed her cell phone and dialed.

“Hi, Lorraine, it’s me. Your laptop’s a PC, isn’t it?”

Thirty minutes later, Lorraine and Tara were staring at the screen of the PC laptop. Lorraine had a sarcastic expression on her face.

“I told you, didn’t I? Men. All the damn same. Who the fuck’s Britney?”

“No clue,” Tara answered. A box on the screen asked for a password. Tara left it blank and hit the
enter
button in the hope the file might open but nothing happened. She was no techno geek by any stretch of the imagination.

“Hmmmm…” Tara sighed.

“Shit,” muttered Lorraine. “Why the fuck does he need to password protect it? That’s your evidence right there. Okay, let’s figure this out. What’s Clem’s mother’s name?”

“Louise.”

Lorraine typed the letters into the password space then hit the
enter
button again. It didn’t work.

“He ever have a dog?”

“Buster.” Lorraine re-typed the password. Nothing.

“Crap!”

“Mother’s maiden name?”

“Crowther.”

Lorraine hit the keys. Nothing.

“Fuck!”

“Middle name?”

“James.”

Nothing.

“Bullshit.”

“We could be here all day trying to guess his password, Lorraine.”

“Fuck.
I’ll
go to the restaurant and
I’ll
catch the bastard red-handed.” Lorraine was starting to get on her soapbox again. Tara’s eyes widened.

“No you won’t, Lorraine.”

“Tara, if Clem’s cheating on you, wouldn’t you rather know for sure than build a resentment that’ll burn you up because he’s never gonna tell you about her so you’ll end up hating the very man you’re so damn crazy about? Do you really wanna be as fucked up as me? Yeah, I admit it. I’m fucked up but that’s what the male species has done to this girl!”

Tara looked downcast. Lorraine had made her point.

“Okay,” Tara said quietly. “I’ll go to the restaurant.”

CHAPTER 4

Tara didn’t often drive into downtown, especially at night. If it wasn’t for the GPS in her SUV she’d be totally lost. Her mind was racing as she sped north along Interstate 35. The skyscrapers of downtown loomed large on the horizon. She’d changed from her usual casual attire something more presentable; a chic black dress and heels. After all, what woman doesn’t look cute dressed like that? She thought. And if she was about to catch her cheating husband with some tart, she was going to make sure said tart would see that Mrs. Drew wasn’t some frumpy old stay-at-home wifey. But what would she do if Clem was getting all snugly with another woman when she got there?
That would be it. Over. How could she ever trust him again? There’s no way she could stay in a marriage with a cheat and a liar. No way.

What would she say to him? Or to this Britney slut? To the both of them sitting there like two little lovebirds? Would she create a scene? What if Clem got mad? No, he wouldn’t. Clem was too cool for that. He’d try and weasel out of it with some damn lie that would sound so fucking convincing she’d have no way of knowing if he was telling the truth or not.
Shit. Lorraine was right.
The resentment was already building inside her.

“Take the next exit,” said the dulcet-toned female voice of her car’s navigation system.

“Okay, shut up,” Tara mumbled through tight lips.

Friday night at Bella Luna was always packed with diners. This was definitely a ‘reservations only’ establishment. It was a large, stylish, upscale restaurant in the heart of the downtown business district. The décor featured deep orange walls with dark Japanese wood tables and chairs though the cuisine was decidedly Tuscan Italian. Its low lighting gave the place a distinctly warm and inviting ambience. There was the usual clientele of suited corporate types sitting at tables with a sprinkling of beautiful women.

A tall statuesque hostess greeted Tara at the front desk. “Do you have a reservation?” Her glossy red lips smiled perfectly like a model in a Revlon cosmetics magazine ad.

“No, no. I’m here to see, er…some people who are dining here tonight.”

“Their name? I can tell you which table they’re sitting at,” the helpful hostess suggested.

Tara couldn’t see past the bamboo partition, which separated her from the main room full of diners. She was nervous. This could be a very weird situation.

“Er….Drew. Clem Drew is the name,” Tara replied, straining her neck for any sign of her husband. The hostess checked her list of reservations. A perfectly manicured fingernail stopped two thirds of the way down the page of her leather bound book.

“Here we are. Drew. Plus one.” The hostess smiled at Tara. Tara’s heart was pounding so hard she could hear it.

“This way.” The tall hostess walked into the main room.

“No!” Tara blurted out, causing her guide to stop and turn around with a puzzled look. “It’s a surprise. Just point out where they’re sitting.”

“Oh, okay. Table eighteen. Just through there to your right,” the hostess indicated. Tara sucked in a lungful of air and walked slowly in the direction of the hostess’s elegantly outstretched arm. Her eyes darted around the busy room like a nervous fawn surrounded by a pack of wolves. She walked as nonchalantly as she could muster past the various groups eating, drinking and conversing at their tables. There was a lively hubbub of chitchat as servers went about their duties. And there, right where the hostess had pointed, Tara spotted a pretty brunette: a young thirty-something sitting alone at a table for two.

With a cocktail in her left hand, the woman deftly texted on her iPhone with the other, obviously waiting for Clem. The brunette glanced up with an expressionless stare, noting Tara’s approaching presence. It wasn’t Justine but yes, that was her.
That was Clem’s whore all right.
Maybe Clem was in the restroom or at the bar or maybe…

“Tara?”

The voice was unmistakably Clem’s. Tara spun around to see her husband sitting with a very distinguished older gentleman.

“Oh! Hi!” Tara gushed with an embarrassed smile. “Glad I found you,” she blustered as Clem and his dining companion got up from their chairs.

“What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” Clem looked genuinely concerned. Tara’s Plan B speech kicked in on cue.

“Oh, no. Yes, I mean! Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine but I was worried you might have needed this.” Tara pulled out Clem’s mysterious CD from her shoulder bag. Clem smiled.

“Oh, honey. That’s okay. No, I don’t need that. I’ve already copied it onto my hard drive.” Clem turned to his guest. “Hank, this is my wife, Tara.”

“Good evening, Tara. Hank Britney, pleased to meet you,” the older man smiled warmly, extending his hand to shake Tara’s.

“Hank’s one of our biggest clients.”

“Used to be the biggest till the new guys came to town. Very thoughtful of you, Tara. Not many wives would go to so much effort just on a hunch.”

Tara smiled weakly and shrugged. “No big deal. I just thought it might’ve been important.”

“Care to join us?” Hank suggested.

Tara would loved to have joined them both especially as she was all dressed up for the evening and now in serious need of a stiff drink. She felt incredibly silly barging in on them like some jealous wife who thought her husband might be cheating on her.
Fancy that!
But Clem wouldn’t want her to stick around. Tara figured if she sat down the conversation would be geared to include her and then the whole point of Clem meeting this Hank Britney character would be wasted. Tara looked at Clem for some clue that he might want her to join them.

“Looks like we’re short of a chair,” Clem said which was enough of a hint for Tara to leave.

“You two carry on. Love to join you both but I’m meeting Lorraine and her new flame at McCormicks,” Tara lied. “Gotta get going. Nice to meet you, Britney. Sorry, Hank!”

“Likewise,” Hank smiled.

Tara pecked Clem on the cheek and departed. She couldn’t get out of the place quick enough. She felt so ridiculous.
How could she have been so wrong?
It was Lorraine’s fault. That bitter, twisted woman had screwed up Tara’s usually very levelheaded thinking. Her anger was now directed away from her innocent husband and focused on Lorraine as she hurriedly exited Bella Luna.

As Tara waited outside and waited for the valet kid to bring her vehicle, her blood rush subsided and she collected her thoughts.
Clem was just having a business dinner. He wasn’t having an affair after all.
She was happy. Okay, that was all rather embarrassing and unnecessary back inside the restaurant but her worst fears were not realized. Tara was hugely relieved. That was the first and last time she would ever let Lorraine warp her thinking. Clem was a good, hard working husband and she needed to remain supportive through this difficult time for him. She would not be so easily manipulated again. Tara was mad at herself for listening to Lorraine in the first place. That woman was damaged goods when it came to the male gender. Her instincts were always wrong and she was wrong again this time. She wanted to call her right then and there and tell her she’d figured it out all cock-eyed but Tara knew she was in too much of an emotional state and might regret what she’d say.

Back in the sanctuary of her travertine tiled bathroom, a calmer Tara soaked in her Jacuzzi tub with its air jets gently pumping out bubbles, merlot in hand. She hummed along to the soothing tones of a Nora Jones CD playing softly and tried to mellow out before Clem got home. She’d been soaking for nearly an hour and was ready to get out but was just too relaxed and warm to move.