A Deadly Affair—The Femme Fatale Series Page 6

  Though the guilt weighed him down, Greg decided it was, in a way, a good thing. It showed remorse and shame for his actions. It showed he wasn't a complete shit.

  Sitting across from Cynthia, however, he would have exchanged nearly anything to be free from his guilt, if only for a short while. Ashley's face flashed in his mind's eye like a blinking light in a pitch black room. She haunted him, plaguing his thoughts with hot sex while his beautiful wife sat across from him, happily chatting about her day at work. He could only wish that Ashley was over him and would leave him alone.

  “Are you okay?”

  Greg raised his eyebrows surprised to find Cynthia leaning forward in her seat and staring at him in concern.

  “I'm fine. Why?”

  Cynthia shrugged, the concern still present. “You look like you're a million miles away.”

  “Not at all. I'm okay and I'm listening. Carry on.” Greg smiled warmly and Cynthia leaned back, a vaguely worried frown creasing her brow.

  “Well, Andrea's applied for the manager's job, but she's had so many odd sick days I really don't think she stands a chance. Not that I'm tooting my own horn or anything, but I'm far more reliable and flexible than she is...”

  Cynthia's words drowned out as Greg took a sip of his wine. The mere fact that Cynthia's main problem right now was the promotion she wanted at work made him feel bad. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on Cynthia, her words and expressions, trying to concentrate, trying to at least pretend that he was listening. But the sounds of the restaurant around him became so loud he began to look around. He was sure it was no louder than before, but it was as if someone had turned the volume up. The sound of knives and forks clanking against china plates sounded like a rock band, the constant hum of intermingled voices sounded like one continuous roar, the sound of scattered laughter like nails against a chalkboard. Suddenly Greg felt hot. Really hot. His shirt and tie suddenly felt tight, his airway restricted. He was going to have a panic attack.

  Greg leaned forward and grabbed a glass of water placed on the table with the bread rolls by the waiter. As he drank it down, Cynthia's concerned voice reached him through the pounding in his ears.

  “What's wrong? Greg look at me!”

  Greg gasped, placed his empty glass down and reached for Cynthia's outstretched hand. Cynthia took it and squeezed hard.

  “What's going on, Greg? Do you think you're coming down with something?”

  “I just felt really hot for a moment. It's passed now.” He squeezed her hand again. “Really. I feel better.”

  “We need to go home.”

  “No!” Greg clutched Cynthia's hand as she stood. “Honestly babe, I'm okay. Maybe I am coming down with something but let's at least eat our meal. Then I'll rest up all weekend.”

  Greg realised that sudden sickness was becoming the routine excuse for his emotional breakdowns. If he kept giving Cynthia the excuse that he was 'coming down with something' then he wouldn't need to worry about Mike or Ashley ratting him out―he'd do it to himself.

  Cynthia stared at him, weary and uncertain. The white blouse she wore rose and fell quickly as her anguished breath hissed in and out. She was suspicious, he could see it in her eyes. Beneath her concern lay dread, dread in finding out the cause of Greg's illness. She knew him so well he wondered if she was reading his mind right at that moment, probing beneath the layers of his anxiety to find the cause.

  He thought quickly.

  “I've had a few headaches today and I felt a little nauseous. But I don't feel ill or anything serious like that.”

  Some of the tension left Cynthia's shoulders, though she remained standing.

  “Your migraines are coming back?”

  “I think so,” Greg replied, grateful for the lifeline Cynthia had unwittingly thrown him.

  “Why didn't you say anything? I wouldn't have minded staying in tonight. We could have ordered take out and rented a film.”

  “We'll do that tomorrow. Let's finish up here then we'll skip the drinks go home and chill out.”

  Cynthia was still uncertain but she sat back down.

  “Okay, but if you start to feel really bad let me know and we'll leave.”

  “Deal.”

  Just hold it together for another hour or so then we'll be out of here. He gave Cynthia his most reassuring smile, relieved when she favoured him with one of her own. He looked over her shoulder at the bathroom signs.

  “I'm gonna go to the bathroom. I'll be back in a minute.”

  “Don't be too long. You've got me worried.”

  “Really, there's nothing to worry about. I'll probably feel better after I eat something.” Greg stood and was looking straight ahead when something caught his eye.

  Something familiar.

  His gaze slid to the left ― and rested on Ashley, seated at the bar wearing a tight red dress. She was staring right at him.

  He lurched forward, the movement involuntarily and in response to his sudden shock. He knocked the table, sending his glass of wine tumbling to its side and spilling the wine all over the table.

  “Greg!” Cynthia said impatiently as Greg said, “I'm sorry.” Cynthia grabbed her napkin and began to dab at the spilt beverage.

  “I'll be right back. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Cynthia replied, no longer sounding concerned, just annoyed. Greg hurried from the table, ignoring the curious locks from nearby diners.

  Ashley watched him approach, her expression hard. She was apparently furious with him. There was no way for Greg to avoid her―she was seated right by the door that led to the bathroom. Greg checked on Cynthia. She was still mopping up his spilt wine with her back to him. He couldn't just ignore Ashley―what if she came to his table?

  Greg hurried towards Ashley and hissed “follow me” before she could speak first. He pushed through the doors that lead to an inner hallway with the ladies' bathroom door on the right men's to the left. Beyond was an open door to what appeared to be a storage closet. Greg hurried towards the closet and rushed inside, Ashley right behind him. Once Ashley was inside, Greg closed the door slightly and faced her. Gone was the sultry seductress, the beautiful temptress. Now she just looks furious.

  “What are you doing here, Ashley?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “What am I doing here? What's she doing here?”

  “She is my wife. Just what the hell are you playing at?”

  Ashley's face flushed deep red, visible even in the dimly lit storage room.

  “You're playing mind games on the wrong woman, Greg. You invite me here tonight then turn up with your wife. So I'll ask you―what are you playing at?”

  Greg hesitated, confusion clouding his mind. Invited her? He'd done no such thing.

  “Look, I don't know where you got the idea from but I did not ask you out tonight.”

  Ashley stared him her, expression hard. “So someone else called Greg sent me roses with a note asking to meet me here tonight?”

  She was lying, he was sure of it. Somehow she'd found out about his date with Cynthia and had arrived to cause trouble. Though being this close to her still made his heart pound a little, Greg felt some of the power she'd held over him subside. Tricking him into a romantic tryst at an abandoned mansion was one thing, showing up here tonight with lies on her lips was quite another.

  “I did not invite you here, Ashley. You know that. Now I'll kindly ask you to leave me alone.”

  The hard look fell from Ashley's face. She smiled, though not kindly. “I didn't take you for the type to play games, Greg,” she said stepping closer to him. He remained still though he felt like running away. Ashley came so close he could feel her breath on his lips. “Well, if you'll set the pace I'm willing to play.”

  Ashley licked his lips, darting her tongue out like a snake. Greg's heart leapt, his breath caught and his groin twitched. She stepped back and smiled at him. “I think I may stay for a while, maybe have a couple of drinks.” She stepped out of the closet and hesitated, gla
ncing back at him. “Watch your back,” she said before turning and walking away.

  Greg let out a long breath and trembled. He felt sick.

  Aware that Cynthia may come looking for him if he didn't hurry, Greg made his way back to the table. Ashley's eyes pierced his back and he struggled to control his emotions. His food sat waiting for him, as did Cynthia. He spent the entire meal engaging in small talk with his wife as the woman he'd betrayed her with sat mere feet away, watching his every move. Feigning a terrible headache, Greg manipulated Cynthia into leaving the restaurant quickly. On his way out, his arm around Cynthia, Greg glanced back and locked eyes with Ashley. His blood froze as she smiled in such a way that made him fear her intentions.

  Chapter Ten

  My diary.

  Oh the bastard! I've never felt so stupid. How dare he? I really really misjudged this man. I'd never have believed he'd do something so nasty, so cruel, and so reckless. This wasn't the behaviour of the sweet shy man I thought Greg was. When I saw him sitting there with his wife I felt like someone had punched me in the throat. How could he? Why would he risk his marriage like that? Clearly he was trying to make me feel stupid.

  But he'll pay for this. I'll make sure his perfect wife hates him. He'll have nothing left by the time I'm finished with him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mike awoke and groaned, the pain in his head immediate and intense. He raised his arms and grabbed the sides of his head. Then, he realised a bare arm was draped over his chest.

  Oh, yeah. Her.

  Mike looked at her sleeping by side. Her dark hair tumbled across the pillow as she snored softly. Her arms and shoulders were bare, her skin tanned. Mike felt a slight twinge in his groin, but it was far overruled by the pain in his head. He gently lifted her arm from his chest and softly laid it down before slipping out of the bed. Standing made the pain worse and he staggered from the bedroom, heading down the hallway and into the kitchen. Nearly yanking the cupboard door off its hinges, Mike grabbed the box of painkillers and gobbled four tablets down with a mouthful of water from the sink. He sighed with relief, knowing the tablets would vanquish his killer headache rather quickly, leaving him with a fairly tired feeling. He hobbled over to the kitchen table sat down and rested his head on his crossed arms.

  Now he'd taken the appropriate steps to cure his hangover, he could focus on the events of the night before. Or rather, focus on where his plan went wrong.

  He'd been watching the whole thing, of course. Hiding out of sight, he'd watched Ashley enter the bar, looking absolutely gorgeous in a tight red dress. She'd made her way to the bar and Mike almost began to drool in anticipation, flicking his gaze between Ashley and Greg, just waiting for one to notice the other. She'd ordered herself a drink, hopped onto a stool, then sat looking at her phone for a few seconds.

  Checking for a message from Greg?

  Then, as she'd sipped her drink, her eyes watching the diners, they fell upon Greg sitting at a round table across from his wife. Her back had stiffened, her eyes had widened. For a split second she'd looked upset, crushed. Then, she'd looked furious.

  Mike grinned triumphantly. She'd seemed furious enough to approach Greg right then and there.

  She hadn't, though.

  She'd merely watched, no, glared at Greg, her anger evident even from a distance.

  Meanwhile, Greg didn't seem to be doing so well, so much so that Mike wondered if he'd already spotted Ashley. Carefully, Mike moved to another corner of the restaurant where the coat storage was.

  There. Now he had a perfect side view of Greg and Cynthia. Greg had looked awfully pale and Mike was disappointed, sure he'd already spotted Ashley. He and Cynthia seem to be having a disagreement of some sort; she'd even stood to leave at one point. Mike even wondered if Greg was confessing. Whatever they were discussing, Cynthia took her seat shortly after. Then, after further discussion, Greg had stood and spotted Ashley. It was a beautiful moment.

  Greg jolted as if he'd suffered an electric shock and spilled his glass all over the table before hurrying toward the rest rooms, Ashley following closely behind.

  But, that's where it had ended.

  Ashley returned shortly after, Greg soon after that. Greg finished his meal with Cynthia, though somewhat hurriedly, while Ashley remained at the bar, watching them. Mike could almost taste his disappointment as Greg and Cynthia left the restaurant,their arms around one another.

  What exactly do I have to do to bust this bastard?

  Mike raised his head and stared at the wall, trying to think of a new plan. Cynthia had to know last night that there was something wrong with Greg, but Greg had dodged the bullet. Just what had he told her? And what were they disagreeing on just before Ashley's arrival? Was Cynthia suspicious?

  Mike raised his eyebrows. Could be. Even from a distance Mike could see Greg's evident distress. Had he told Cynthia he was feeling sick? Maybe that's how he'd managed to get her to her to hurry through the meal and leave the restaurant. He'd been out with Cynthia and Greg before, he knew they stayed out later and drank at the bar before going home, yet last night they had left immediately after eating. Greg must've told Cynthia he wasn't feeling well or something. That's the only explanation that made any sense.

  Clearly, Mike was going to need a much better plan. But what? Could he somehow get Ashley to go to Greg's home? Maybe he could send her some more flowers with another note, but this time ask her to meet him at his house while Cynthia was home? Ashley had been furious with Greg last night, would she even want to see him again? What if by trying to expose Greg and Ashley's affair, Mike had actually ended it? What if she never wanted to see Greg ever again?

  Mike groaned and rested his head down once more. He had him. He had him. He just needed to plan this properly. He thought about Cynthia, the love and trust that she had for Greg. Maybe he'd been going at it the wrong way. Maybe the best way to expose Greg for the cheat that he is was through Cynthia. If Mike could somehow cause friction between Greg and Cynthia whilst working his nice guy act, maybe the stress would get to Greg and he'd trip himself up. If things were going badly between he and Cynthia at home he may even pursue Ashley, seeking the comfort from her that he wasn't getting from his wife.

  Yes that's it. The angle is Cynthia.

  Mike raised his head then stood slowly. He still had a headache but the agony had somewhat subsided. He made his way to the other side of the kitchen and began to prepare the makings for the coffee machine. As the coffee brewed, Mike thought about his new plan. A small flutter of excitement tickled his stomach and he smiled. He was sure this was the way, the way that he would expose Greg and get Cynthia for himself. He needed to plan this meticulously and work it in such a way that would make Greg looked like a grade A bastard and make him look like Cynthia's saviour.

  Mike retrieved a breakfast tray from the cupboard and placed 2 cups of coffee and four pieces of toast on it. He'd spend the next hour or so with the fine woman in his bed, no need to send her home too early, then spend the rest of the day making preparations for his plans.

  No matter what it took Mike wouldn't stop until Greg was out of the picture and Cynthia was his.

  Chapter Twelve

  5 PM on a Saturday night. Takeaway ordered, films rented and just he and Cynthia alone. That's all that Greg wanted. But that wasn't what he got.

  Soon after arriving home from the video store, Cynthia had received a call from work. Something had gone wrong with the flower arrangement for a funeral the following day and they needed Cynthia to go in.

  “I'm so sorry,” Cynthia apologised.

  “It's not your fault.”

  Greg watched her get ready for work and sighed. He'd been looking forward to spending the night with her all day, especially after the way he'd behaved the night before at the restaurant. It was just his luck that she would be called into work. After sleeping in late that morning they'd run a few errands and taken Jesse for a long walk around the park. The weather had been surprisingly
warm and Greg had felt like his old self again. Being with Cynthia had been easy with none of the jabs of guilt that he'd become accustomed to living with day in and day out. Ashley turning up at the restaurant last night the way she had helped Greg to put things into perspective. The two women being in the room at the same time had helped Greg, forced him to decide what was most important― his wife, or the lustful young woman who had relentlessly pursued him in spite of the fact that he was married. Greg suspected he was not Ashley's first conquest and he wouldn't be her last. As far as he was concerned, if he never saw Ashley again it would be too soon.

  He felt like he had his old life back again. He felt safe and secure, confident in his love for Cynthia. No other woman compared to her and he was never going to risk his marriage again. Should Ashley try make contact with him he'd tell her where to get off.

  “What are you thinking?” Cynthia asked as she checked through her handbag.

  “Nothing. Just feeling sorry for myself.”

  “What for?”

  “Because you're leaving me all on my lonesome on a Saturday night.”

  “You have company.” Grinning Cynthia nodded her head towards Jesse who sat watching Cynthia with interest. She knew Cynthia was going out and the hope that she was going with her was evident.

  “Company,” Greg scoffed. “She'll do nothing but pant, drool, and fart all night. That's not company, that a pest.”

  Jesse seem to grin as she panted, recognising the word fart and Cynthia laughed. “You know you love her.”

  “Like a hole in the head. So how long do you think you'll be?”

  “I have no idea. But whatever's gone wrong it must be bad for them to call me in. I hope it's nothing major though. The last thing that poor family needs is problems with the flowers.”

  Cynthia zipped her handbag closed and stood, adjusting her clothes then running her fingers through her hair. Jesse stood too, wagging her tail and whining.