Nate Kenny, now forty-one years old, sat in Glenn’s office in a tailored beige suit that contrasted sharply with his maple brown skin. He relished this moment.
Tori had stumbled backward, and if it wasn’t for the wall behind her, she would’ve fallen at the shock of seeing him there.
It had been a year since Nate had seen her. The last time was at the divorce hearing.
Nate had sat confidently beside his high-priced attorney, knowing he was just going through the formalities. His soon-to-be ex-wife, Monica, had no leg to stand on. She had cheated on Nate, he had proof, and per their prenuptial agreement, he had the right to divorce her without having to give her any financial compensation.
Nate looked over at his wife. She did not return his stare, but continued looking down at her hands. He did not want a divorce, but regardless of how many times before the trial he had tried to reason with her, Monica still wanted to go ahead with it.
So be it, Nate thought. I’ll keep my sixty million dollars, and she’ll have nothing.
That was until Mr. Spiven, his wife’s aging, white-haired attorney sat up in his chair and said to the judge, “We have a piece of evidence that I believe will alter the outcome of these proceedings.” He held up a videotape. “May I?”
The judge glanced at Nate and his longtime attorney, Jeremy Talbert, then said, “Be my guest.”
Mr. Talbert turned to his client. “What is this, Nate?” he whispered into Nate’s ear.
“I don’t have the slightest idea.”
Mr. Spiven slipped the tape into the VCR, punched a couple of buttons. The screen went black. Then an image of Nate, stark naked in a hotel room, screwing his secretary, Tori Thomas, blinked onto the screen. She was on her back, her light brown hair fanned out over the pillow, golden tan legs spread open, hooked over Nate’s shoulders. Nate was on his hands and knees, thrusting himself into her. Spiven quickly fumbled with the volume, turning it down as the loud groans and grunts of Nate and Tori filled the conference room.
Monica turned away in disgust.
“Note the date and time displayed on the video, Your Honor. This occurred before my client filed for divorce, meaning that Mr. Kenny also violated the terms of the prenuptial agreement.”
“Nate, is that you in that video?” Mr. Talbert said in Nate’s ear, his hand pressed down hard on Nate’s arm. “Is that the real thing?”
Nate sat there, seething, knowing the tape could have only come from one person—Tori Thomas.
She had been his secretary for five years. He had dated her, knowing it was wrong because she was under his employ, and for that reason, he knew it could not last.
When he met Monica, Nate ended things with Tori. Not long after, Nate married Monica. But three years after that, he had discovered some shocking news that Nate knew he could never deal with, and this was what ultimately motivated his need to start divorce proceedings. Only then did Nate realize that Tori would’ve been a better candidate for marriage than Monica had been. So he restarted his affair with Tori, telling her, “Once my divorce with Monica is final, I’ll marry you and you’ll have my children.”
Tori was reluctant at first, said she did not want to get hurt again by him, but Nate wore her down. She warmed to the idea of being Mrs. Kenny, then fell in love with it, as she had fallen back in love with Nate.
But Nate changed his mind and decided he wanted to stay with his wife. Then Nate not only dumped Tori, he also fired her.
To Tori, the turn came from nowhere. One moment she was to marry a millionaire and have his children; the next, she was manless and jobless.
Not a week later, scorned and determined, she had phoned Nate.
“Meet me or your wife will know every sordid detail of this affair, down to the brand of wine we drink before sex.”
He had no choice. Nate met Tori at the hotel she designated, discovered that his desire for her had never waned. She said she wanted him. He told her it would be the last time. She smiled as she disrobed. “I understand.”
What happened that night was what Nate and everyone else in the conference room was looking at right now.
“Turn it off!” Nate’s attorney said, rising from his chair.
The tape was as damaging as Tori knew it would be.
Monica’s offense, her infidelity, was negated by Nate’s, so the proceedings now carried on as though it was a normal divorce, entitling Monica to everything she normally would’ve had right to—half of all Nate’s assets.
Nate knew Tori, and as he sat there, seething, learning of all the money he would lose because of the new “evidence” that had been introduced, he knew Tori wouldn’t have just given that to Monica free of charge. Tori had sold that tape to his wife, and that was only possible because she had planned the entire event.
Nate had been tricked, double crossed, and that day he vowed that whatever happened, he would get his revenge on Ms. Tori Thomas.
Now, as Nate sat in Tori’s house, in the office that she had made for her husband, he smiled and told himself the day had finally come.
His hands were folded in his lap. He appeared calm, tranquil, the smooth brown skin of his face without worry, his dark, normally fiery eyes smoldering. Nate’s right leg was crossed casually over his left knee. The expensive Italian shoe on his right foot bobbed up and down as if he were grooving to a song he liked.
“Hello, Tori,” he said, as though they had just spoken yesterday.
“What are you doing here? Where is my husband?” Tori said, as though she knew Nate was involved.
She had never been more right.
“You thought I wouldn’t find you?” Nate said. “Do you know the money I lost because of you? How much did you make out of the sweet deal you brokered?”
“Where is my husband?” Tori said again, frenzy in her voice.
“You could’ve come to me. I would’ve given you as much. More. But you had to be conniving. You stole from me. You thought I would not find out?”
“Where is my husband? Have you hurt him? Where is Glenn?”
Nate chuckled. “You haven’t gotten this yet, have you? He’s not your husband, and his name is not Glenn. He’s an employee of mine, paid to come to California, find you, marry you, and get my money back.”
“No,” Tori said, her back against the wall, her face dropping into her hands. “He loves me.”
“He doesn’t love you.”
“He does! You’re wrong. Bring him back.”
“Tori, he doesn’t—” Nate said, standing.
But Tori staggered across the room, threw herself at Nate, grabbing him by his lapels. “I don’t care about the money. Keep it. But that man loves me, and I love him. You promised you’d marry me, and you left me, fired me. I just wanted money for a new life. Didn’t I deserve at least that?”
Nate did not want to admit it as he looked at Tori, her face wet with tears, but she might have been right.
“I move away, find a man I love, and you come and take that away from me. No!” Tori said, beating at his chest now. “Bring him back! Please!”
Nate grabbed her by the wrists, tried to steady her. When he knew she would not fall, Nate let her go. He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket, extended it to her. “Pull yourself together.”
Tori took the cloth, dabbed at her eyes and nose. Her uncontrollable shaking lessened to a tremble.
“I know you don’t believe me, but he loves me, Nate. Please bring him back to me.”
“I can believe you, because I loved you before. The fact of the matter is he has no feelings for you. You were a job, an assignment, nothing more. I came because I wanted to see your face when you found out that what you stole from me, I’ve now gotten back,” Nate said, beginning to feel sorry for the woman. “If you know what’s best, you’ll get over him. Understand?”
Tori dabbed at her eyes again with the handkerchief, then gave it back. “Yes, I understand,” Tori said, her voice a whisper. “I’ll be right back.”
Nate watched her step out of the room. He shook his head, turning his back, leaning his hands on the edge of the desk.
Surprisingly, Nate wasn’t as satisfied as he thought he would have been after pulling off this caper. Oh well, the money had been retrieved and was resting securely back in his account. That counted for something.
Behind him, he heard Tori step back into the room.
“Nate.”
He turned and was mildly surprised to see her pointing a gun at him. His heart did not thump in his chest, nor did his palms coat with sweat, because he knew Tori. He knew she could not kill a man, or even shoot a man for that matter, especially not him. And even if she did have it in her, he was confident in his ability to convince her to lower the gun without incident.
“You’re not going to do that, Tori. So put it down.”
“You are a hateful man.” The gun trembled in her hand.
“Tori, put it down.” He took a step forward.
“I thought I loved you then, but I realize I never could have. Not you.”
“Just put it down.” Another step. “Killing me would solve nothing. You’d still have to live with your pain.”
By the look in her eyes, Nate could see something click in Tori’s head.
“You’re right,” she said, quickly turning the gun, pressing the tip of the barrel to her temple.
Nate threw himself over the few short steps between them, lunged at her. He was too late.
Nate heard the deafening blast. Saw the flash of orange fire spurt from the gun’s barrel, and saw the fine red mist of blood spray from the side of Tori’s head. She went limp, the gun dropped from her hand, and Nate caught her in his arms before her body fell to the floor.