“Sure I did. I could even describe the woman. She said, ‘Let’s go’. We went to her best friend’s place, and there they were, hard at it.”

“Wow, what happened?”

“She divorced him. But that’s when I figured I had a talent that could help me make a living. So I moved out here and set up shop.”

“The kid?”

“Mona? She’s grown up and finished college now. Working as an accountant.”

“You could see that much detail in the guy’s…whatever…?”

“I call it a mental image. Yes. I can see as much detail as there is. For instance, if you could have seen what Jeff was imagining when we had supper the other night, you’d have known that he’d never seen me naked.”

“Why’s that?”

“He was envisioning me with thick, dark pubic hair.”

“You think he likes that?”

“Yes. If he didn’t, he’d have imagined me like you are.”

“So, you think I should grow it out?”

“Worth a try.”

“I never enjoyed getting my hair pulled out by the roots anyway. I think I will do just that. I’m going to let it grow.”

“Good for you, girl. Are you ready for bed yet?”

“I’m almost always ready for bed when you’re this close.”

The two went hand in hand to the bedroom.

The next Monday Angela finished her last invoice, printed it, printed the envelope, stuffed it and sealed it. Finished! Before noon.

She packed up her laptop, locked up the office and went across the street to the coffee shop where she ordered a roasted turkey sandwich on a bagel and a cup of latte. She was surprised to see the place nearly empty when it was often so full. She sat at a table in a corner, pulled her laptop out of her bag and opened it because she knew there was free wireless.

“Your sandwich is ready,” called the nose-studded barista.

Angela fetched her sandwich and drink and returned to her computer. She ate quickly and started sipping the latte as she checked her e-mail. Gudrun’s report from Copenhagen. Nothing. She had stuck to Jeff like glue. All he did was go to meetings. Marcella had gone with her and gotten into his hotel room while Jeff was at a meeting. She’d checked his computer. Nothing. Gudrun reported that the only woman involved in any of the meetings was Danish, and, though Gudrun had to check several sources to be sure, she verified that “she” was a cross-dressing Dane waiting for a sexual re-assignment operation. Not Jeff’s type. And they weren’t together outside the meeting room anyway. The surveillance cameras showed only one incident in the hotel room besides sleeping, dressing, bathing, shaving and going to the bathroom. Jeff lay on the bed and masturbated one time.

Angela envisioned him lying naked on the bed, his muscular body tight with tension as he began to stroke his enlarged, stiff cock. Faster and faster until… She felt herself getting wet at the images.

I bet he was watching porn on the television.

The report continued that the only visual stimulation was a photograph of Ronda. Fully clothed.

Marcella took up the story when Jeff returned to O’Hare Thursday evening as he had promised. He got his car from long-term parking, and went home. He left the house about 9:00 the next morning and went to his office. He and one other corporate officer-male-were on a conference call to Tokyo.

No women. No men. Nothing. He slept on a couch at the office. Maria took over from Marcella at the office they had rented across the street from Jeff’s. They kept up the surveillance mainly through microphones that Stephanie, dressed as a cleaning woman, put in the office as she emptied the trash cans. They had visual contact via a telescopic lens on a video camera. Nothing.

Those girls are good!

Maria had managed to get into his office dressed in a uniform from the cleaning contractor, pushing a vacuum cleaner and to check all of his files and bills. Nothing on the credit card. Nothing on the cell phone. Nothing on the computer.

“Hi, how are you doing?” a familiar voice rang out across the coffee shop.

“Mrs. Windborne? I’m fine, how are you?” She was with Angela’s former client, Michelle Anderson.

Angela flashed onto the vivid images of Mrs. Windborne’s husband fucking Michelle Anderson and wondered what the heck these two were doing together.

“This is Michelle… Oh, I forgot, you two know each other, don’t you?”

Angela’s mind was still half on the reports about Jeff. She found it difficult to shift her attention to what was happening right in front of her. Her mind was flooded with the contradictory images-Michelle with Raymond Windborne…the photographs Angela had presented to Mrs. Windborne? No…something else… But what?

“I’m so happy to see you,” Mrs. Windborne enthused. “Are you doing anything important? Do you mind if we join you?” Michelle Anderson was sitting in the chair Mrs. Windborne had pulled out for her and Mrs. Windborne took the other chair at the table.

Angela snapped the screen of her computer shut and said, “No, no, of course not. Please do.”

“We have news for you!” Mrs. Windborne was gushing.

“What news?”

“Well, you know my husband Raymond? He was cheating with Michelle here. So I talked to Michelle about it and we decided that next time we would both be there. So a couple of days after you showed me those awful photographs, when Raymond called Michelle, she called me. When he showed up Michelle was in the living room, naked. He comes in and gets undressed and she leads him into the bedroom. He has a hard-on and is ready to go, but then he sees me.”

Michelle picked up the story. “And I get on the bed with Joan here, and I say, ‘come on, fuck me’ and he can’t do anything. Joan starts sucking him off while he’s standing there and he can’t get it up again. So Joan and I start making out, just to fuck with his head.”

“And I thought we had given him every man’s fantasy!”

“Yeah, for his wife to be with his girlfriend.”

Both women laughed and Michelle resumed the story.

“So he leaves. But we found that we liked what we were doing, so we just kept on doing it.”

“And?” asked Angela.

“And so I filed for divorce and moved out and now Michelle and I are living together.”

“And we changed to the Unitarian Church where they have a support group that we like.”

Angela finished her latte to disguise whatever expression was on her face, put down her cup and said, “Wow, that is some news.”

“And to think,” Mrs. Windborne said, “we have you to thank for it all.”

“Glad to be of service.”

The two women went to the counter, got a bag of coffee beans, and left hand in hand.

Angela opened her computer again. Well that’s a new one on me! What’s going on with Jeff now?

She read the report for Friday. He shaved and showered in the executive washroom, changed clothes, sent out the dirty clothes to be cleaned. Had breakfast sent in. Ate at his desk. Another conference call. New York. Conference with corporate brass. All afternoon. Two women. Both senior executives. Nobody showed any sexual interest in anyone else.

He went home late Friday night.

The manager of the cleaning crew tried to fuck one of his cleaning women Friday night. She wasn’t having any of it. Sexual harassment. I ought to find out who the contractor is and report this son of a bitch. If the woman doesn’t come forward, nothing I can do. Shit! If the son of a bitch is doing it, it’s because it’s worked in the past.

Saturday morning Jeff left the house and drove to the loop, parked in the company’s parking garage, got coffee and bagels at a coffee shop, ate in his office. A conference call at ten. He worked on the computer…

Maybe something going on there. Maybe he’s instant messaging someone. Maybe he’s doing something with the computer.