by Cynthia Dane
The therapist was wrong. So. Fucking. Wrong.
It wasn’t all in Lana’s head.
It was right here in front of her, and its name was a tale as old as time. My husband is screwing the help.
Maybe not just screwing.
Romancing.
That was one boundary they never crossed: romancing other partners. They would seduce, but they would never make it emotional. That route led to nothing but tears and terror. Like now, as Lana faced her crumbling marriage before her very eyes.
“Kenneth.”
She was going to do it. She was going to confront him.
He turned in his chair, surprised, but not shocked. The man had no shame! Here he was, getting off the phone with the real mistress while the wife walked in and caught him practically red-handed. If she didn’t kill him, his lack of shame would.
“Bunny,” he said, using that same voice he used with Chloe over the phone. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
No shit.
“Thought I’d drop by,” she replied, tight-lipped. “Was in the neighborhood.” Asshole.
Even though Lana stood in front of him like she was about to rip off his balls, Ken remained completely unfazed. How dare he be so composed? Didn’t he realize what his wife had witnessed? “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Wife. Did you drive down? We could go get dinner later. I hear there’s a nice new Italian place a few blocks from here…”
Lana was going to cut straight to the point. “I heard you on the phone with the maid.” She paused for emphasis. “Anything wrong back home?” Like your dick in the wrong woman? Lana heard that happened totally on accident sometimes.
“Oh? That?” Here it came. The lies. “Nothing of any concern. Chloe called me to inform me that a package I’ve been anxiously expecting arrived. I told her to leave it in my office to look at later.”
“Hey, baby, let’s check out my package together… in my office.” Gag.
“You sounded awfully familiar with her, Kenneth.”
She continued to stand like an anxious soldier waiting for her orders. Kill. Those are my orders. Hell hath no fury…
“Why shouldn’t I have been familiar with her? She’s been working for us for months now.” Finally, that man frowned. “What is this about? I’m telling you the truth, Bunny.”
Lana lowered her arms, nearly letting her purse fall off her shoulder. I want to believe him. Why wouldn’t she? She just came out of therapy, declaring how much she loved her husband and how much she wanted to believe that everything she’d been imagining was a lie. “Kenny...”
“Come here.” Ken patted his lap.
She wanted to go. She wanted to flee – to go back to her therapist’s office with this brand new information. But I want him. Lana took one tentative step forward, afraid that she would fall for her husband’s demeanor once again.
This man wouldn’t really cheat on her, right? It was all in her head, right? What was Lana to do? Did she trust her gut, which sent up a million red flags? Or did she trust her heart, that didn’t care what her husband did as long as he treated her as he always did?
Your gut, stupid. What did her heart know? It made her go and sit in his lap, laughing away her worries because how dare she? Her heart was stupid. Couldn’t she see that her husband going behind her back and romancing some young, insignificant woman was treating her like shit? Even if inadvertently?
It was days like those that not only caused a war within her body, but also proved how sad, stupid, and careless this drama queen really could be.
Chapter 8
“Does Lana Know About It?”
Christmas at the Losers Estate really was just that.
“Low-siers,” Inid said to her youngest daughter. “It’s not pronounced like that word!”
No matter how much she tried it, Inid would never be able to escape her maiden name. Like Lana, she had changed it the moment she married years ago. Inid Rothberg, however, never anticipated having to explain such a maiden name to her small children years after the fact.
“Still sounds like Loser to me…” said Collette, the youngest Rothberg child. “Why would someone call themselves that so long ago?”
“Times change, dear. It didn’t used to mean that. I think.” Inid patted her daughter’s head and herded her toward the dining room. “We’ve got dinner, Collie. Now be nice for your grandmother.”
“I don’t wanna. She smells like gross.”
Lana tuned them out after that. She didn’t need to agree with her niece any more than she did. Mother does smell like “gross.” Which happened to be how Lana felt most of the time now.
At first she blamed her period, which was unusually rough – probably compounded by stress, not that she could do anything about that at this time of year. Except then she worried there was something terribly wrong with her, so she went straight to her doctor two days before they left for the Christmas holidays. When he gave her the okay to travel, insisting that she was only “fretting,” Lana nearly threw the biggest fit she ever threw in the doctor’s office.
Ken was an utter gentleman through the whole ordeal. Including now, as he stood behind her at the dining room table, massaging her shoulders while talking to his older brother. At night he would massage her back, taking extra care of her abdomen until the terrible cramps finally abated long enough for her to sleep. He snuggled her. He kissed her. He never asked for the sexual things he sometimes did when they went without for a few days. He was a model husband, and that worried Lana.
Is he being nice because he’s nice? Or is he being nice because he knows he’s doing something bad? How deep did Ken’s morality go? Would he feel bad about cheating on his wife? Shit, if he felt bad, he wouldn’t be cheating on her! Right?
Or maybe the man misunderstood the boundaries of their relationship. Maybe he thought it was okay to fuck the maid because of the way their marriage was set up. Except he would’ve mentioned something by now. Said something stupid, like, “Maid’s got nice tits, right?”
I could also still be making it up. There was a reason Lana hadn’t confronted her husband… yet. She didn’t have the concrete evidence. Everything was conjecture. Damn good conjecture, but a pleasant conversation on the phone and hearsay from the chef didn’t a confrontation make.
So Lana chose to plow through life as it came. Right now it meant tending to her family’s Christmas celebrations.
Even though Lana and Ken were by far the richest and most successful members of the family by every definition – meaning it was their families forced together – Lana’s parents had the most bedrooms to house everyone. So once a year they packed their bags and headed upstate for a few days, relegated to the nicest guest room, even above Ken’s parents, because they were the golden children.
Everyone was there. Lana’s parents and her sister. Inid brought her children and husband, all a very picturesque family whom everyone agreed took the best holiday photos. Then there was Ken’s family. His parents were there, and his three brothers happily were as well. One older, two younger. All but the youngest had a wife and children. Altogether, nine children of varying ages had the run of the place. Lana was the only woman at these functions who had no children, and her mother never let her forget.
Except for tonight, because Juliet Losers was too fucked up on Xanax and cider to remember to give her daughter grief for not following her biological destiny. Last time she told me it was my duty to breed because of how rich I was. Who was that money going to go to? Hilarious, because Ken’s brothers sucked up to him for the sole purpose of sending their youngest kids to apprentice under him one day. There were plenty of nieces and nephews to pick from. Or maybe they would pick a kid off the street and change his or her life.
Lana thought these amusing things while she received her ongoing massage and fielded inane questions from her sister’s husband. When Juliet made her appearance and sat at the head of the table next to her illustrious daughte
r, Lana decided that her niece was the smartest person in the family. Grandma definitely smelled like gross.
By the time dinner began, Ken had sat next to his wife and began telling tales from the crazy world of real estate. About half of them included his wife blowing up at some poor, hapless soul and busting his balls until he conceded to her demands.
Ken had an amazing way of making his wife sound like a total harpy, all while keeping a friendly smile on his face. Normally it didn’t bother Lana – especially if it meant her reputation preceded her, and nobody would bother her – but tonight it only served as a reminder that even her husband saw her this way at times. What man wouldn’t cheat on that?
She used to think that Ken wasn’t that kind of man. Who knew…
The unfortunate thing was that she had no one to confide in. Not in her family, anyway. Usually these nights ended with her confiding to her husband about her feelings regarding her parents and sister. Ken was her best friend. Ken was her sound board and the man who reassured her that she was beautiful, smart, witty, and a tiger in the sack. Who knew how that would go tonight.
In truth, Lana didn’t remember much about Christmas dinner. There was food. Kids whined. Brothers-in-law laughed and sisters huffed. Mothers popped Xanax. The in-laws insinuated that they wanted to go to Brazil for their upcoming anniversary, something that usually translated to a plea for money. Lana ignored it. If Ken wanted to give his money to his parents, so be it.
“Lana.”
She snapped off auto-pilot sometime after dinner, when her husband leaned in and pointed to a maid carrying platters of pie. “Huh?”
“Pumpkin or blackberry, dear?”
“Oh. Pumpkin, please.”
After dinner, Lana was obligated to spend time with her mother and sister in one of the studies. There she got to hear all about her brother-in-law’s legal troubles at work. Something else she was expected to pitch in funds to help with.
“Perhaps if you want to save money, your husband should stop harassing his help.”
Inid sniffed. “You know how men are. They chase tail. Be grateful you don’t have kids. Ken wouldn’t think twice about straying from you if he saw you as a mother.”
“Inid,” Juliet said sternly, the first thing she said in twenty minutes.
Lana pursed her lips. Her sister never stood a chance against her. “It’s not kids that would do it, sweetie. It’s the fact you haven’t had a personality since you popped out the first kid.”
“Lana!”
Maybe this was why Juliet Losers was on so much Xanax – raising these two assholes she called daughters. At least one is filthy rich and the other gave her grandchildren. That’s all that mattered to a woman like her.
Lana didn’t have a chance for peace until later that evening, when she excused herself to go to bed. The next day was Christmas, and although some in-laws would be scattering to see other family in the area, most of the brood would be at the Losers Estate to exchange presents. Lana wished she could remember what she got anyone…
“…She’s going to lose her mind when she sees it.” Ken’s voice, in the library with his younger brother Travis. The two were always friends growing up, and things hadn’t changed now. If Ken were to have a private conversation with anyone at a family gathering, it was him. “Chloe is already in love.”
Lana stopped in the hallway. Don’t listen, idiot. That’s what her common sense said. Her gut? It made her stand outside that door, one ear completely open.
“Who’s Chloe?”
“The maid. Man, listen for once. That’s what I’ve been telling you this whole time.”
“You sly ass dog.
Ken laughed.”Don’t I know it.”
“Does Lana know about it?”
“Of course not. Would spoil everything.”
“And this from the man who says the secret to a successful marriage is being open about and sharing everything.”
“Trav, if I shared this with Lana, I may not have a successful marriage anymore.”
“Good luck with that. I mean it. You’re a crazy fucker, but good luck.”
Lana moved on to the bedroom. I see. Ken was definitely keeping something from her. Something to do with Chloe. That if Lana found out about it? May mean the end of her marriage.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed when Ken arrived, all smiles as he said a chipper good evening to his wife and disappeared into the bathroom. When he reemerged a few minutes later, he had his hand clasped around a black box with a red ribbon.
“I know it’s not quite Christmas yet,” he said, sitting next to Lana on the bed. “But I wanted to give you this away from family eyes.”
Detached from reality though she was, Lana took the box into her hands. Jewelry. The man had given her countless pieces of jewelry over the years. Earrings, necklaces, rings, bracelets… watches. Barrettes. Hairpins. Even a pair of nipple clamps one year. Yet she always counted on it being a carefully selected piece that her husband thought out well ahead of time. He never bought her something for the sake of buying it, or because he didn’t know what else to get her. Like the finch pendant he gave her for her birthday. According to their mutual personal assistant, Lana’s husband bought it two months before her birthday when he came across it in a store and thought of her.
The man has thought of me that recently…
“Thank you,” she said graciously, pulling the ribbon off the box and popping the lid. “This is sweet of…”
She looked at a silver collar.
Then she looked at her husband.
“Go on. Take a closer look.”
He said it so easily, as if it were no big deal for a man to buy his wife a sub collar for Christmas. Well, perhaps in their marriage it wasn’t. For ten years they had been kinky to the max, after all.
Lana lifted the collar out of the box and inspected it. A simple, silver collar at first glance. Of course, the quality was superb. Nothing but pure silver, and a tiny chain for gentle tugging. This wasn’t a collar to wear for serious play. It was the kind of collar for her to wear to The Dark Hour. The highlight, however, was the inscription on the inside.
“My Bunny.”
Something swelled in Lana’s heart. Or maybe it was in her gut.
“I know it’s not much, darling,” Why was Ken sounding so apologetic? Not every woman could say she got this kind of treatment ten years into her marriage. Most women were lucky if their men threw diamond earrings at them ten years in. “But I wanted to get you something special. For us.”
He gently took the collar from her hands, unclasped it, and held it up to her neck. Lana pulled her hair aside and felt the snug collar enclose around her neck. “Thank you. It’s lovely.”
She knew what this meant. She doubted she was modeling her new present. Ken wouldn’t have given it to her tonight if he didn’t have something in mind.
“It looks good on you. How does it feel?”
“Fine.”
“What’s wrong?”
Damn him for being so intuitive. Briefly, Lana wished she had the kind of husband who didn’t know his wife from being sick to healthy. Someone like Inid’s no good husband. The bastard who also cheated on his wife. Seemed to be a running thread in life.
“I suppose I’m feeling a bit glum lately, Husband.”
“Why is that?” His frown almost warmed her heart over. “Is it the… you know…”
Hilarious! They could talk about cum and saliva and God knew how many other body functions without flinching or blushing, but Kenneth Andrews still couldn’t say “period” without tying his tongue in a knot. Men were hilarious when they weren’t infuriating. “I suppose. I miss you.”
“Miss me? Ah…”
He caught on quickly, especially since they had been sexually separated a lot longer than usual, but Lana knew he wasn’t connected to the full story. And now was not the time to bring up her paranoia and suspicions.
Even now, her brain was churning in excuses. Reasons that she was being paranoid and there was no reason to worry about her sweet, friendly husband turning on her and fucking the maid behind her back.
And if he was…
How many other women had he seduced without Lana’s presence or knowledge?
Sometimes it was more difficult than it was worth, being in the type of marriage she was. It was the only type of marriage she would accept, having the sexual appetite that she did. A life without threesomes and swinging? Kill me. Then there was the communication. That was the hardest part. Not communicating, but dealing with her partner’s whims and own desires. It wasn’t enough for Lana to say that she wanted to have a threesome with a man, and, oh, would her husband please suck the other man’s cock for her amusement? No. Ken had to be in the mood, or at least open to the suggestion. He had to like the same man that his wife did, especially if he were the one doing most of the interaction. He had to like anyone they chose to play with. He had to understand where his wife was coming from. He had to have the energy and wherewithal to say, “Yes, Bunny, let’s gang up on some lucky guy. Or girl. It doesn’t matter.”
Lana often told him stories about the years before they met. Her high school years. Her college years. Those glorious years of her mid-20s when she fucked any man who moved enough to satisfy her. Ken was not only the first man to keep up with her, but the first man to openly embrace the type of lifestyle and marriage she wanted. I want a partnership. I want a husband. I want someone I can be a terror team with. Someone she could always count on. Someone to always be by her side, even if other people came and went, as they always did.
They didn’t have long-term girlfriends or boyfriends on the side, and the mistress didn’t count. She was an amusement for them both to enjoy. No, what Lana meant was a truly polyamorous relationship, not swinging. Ken never asked about getting a girlfriend, and Lana was never interested in being serious with another man. Until now, it wasn’t even something she considered. Why would she want another man like that when she had her husband to fulfill all those needs? It sounded bothersome.