Chapter 9
“Bubbling Over”
By Pierre Bastien

Henry was standing stock-still in the middle of the master bedroom, listening to the oooh-ing and ahh-ing coming from the drone’s play-by-play of his wife having sex with Cavanaugh.

It was all very surreal. Stacy was on her way over to the house right now. Henry had been hoping to enjoy a nice meal with her. If things all went according to the ideal plan, they’d be enjoying some make-up sex right here in this room, right there in that king-size four-poster bed.

Instead, Henry was standing next to the bed, listening to her doing it with another man. Weird, thought Henry fleetingly — she makes the same sounds having sex with him as when she does it with me. Hearing Stacy’s recorded sexy-voice was oddly titillating. Every time he heard it, Henry would be distracted for a second, only to be dragged back to reality when Cavanaugh’s voice butted in on the recording.

Henry, finally realizing that he was torturing himself, switched off the GAL 9000 and walked out of the bedroom. He didn’t have much of a plan, so he just stood in the hallway. He held the drone in his left hand. So this is the future, he thought, staring down at the drone.

Henry knew Stacy was taking a break from their marriage, and he knew Cavanaugh was the other man. For all Henry knew, there were OTHER other men, but Cavanaugh was a certainty. Even so — even though he knew Cavanaugh was in the picture, and was somewhat vaguely mentally aware of the idea of Cavanaugh boning his wife — to actually listen to it happening was overwhelming.

Ding-dong. The doorbell rang. For a second, Henry imagined that the doorbell was ringing on the drone’s replay. Henry was a little lost, not entirely sure where he was in time and space.

Ding-dong. There it was again. Snapping back to his senses, Henry realized someone was at the door.  He dashed down the stairs, still holding the drone, eager for something to do other than stand in the hallway spinning cycles in his mind.

Henry ripped open the door, not bothering to peek through the side glass to find out who it was.

“Reid!” exclaimed Henry. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Henry,” said Reid. “Sorry to bother you in the middle of the day. Guess you didn’t get my text, but I was driving by and wanted to talk to you or Stacy.”

“Stacy?” asked Henry defensively. He couldn’t help wondering if maybe there was something going on between her and Reid, too. All possibilities were on the table at this point.

“I’m the only one home,” answered Henry, “although Stacy happens to be on her way here right now.”

“Is everything okay?” asked Reid, stealing a downward glance at the drone still in Henry’s hand.

Henry felt anger welling up inside him. He was furious that he’d been put in this situation. He wanted to tell the truth about what Stacy had done, and yet he didn’t exactly want the truth to be out.

“Actually, no,” Henry said eventually, “things aren’t great.” That was a good start on telling the truth. “But right now I’m curious to know why you’re here.”

“It’s about our professional relationship,” said Reid, sensing it was his opportunity to come clean. “I’ve realized that I can’t be a financial advisor to you and Stacy any longer.”

Henry really didn’t want to think about finances right now. Then again, he had just learned from the faithful GAL 9000 that Reid had been helping Stacy hide her money somehow. And Reid had driven over here to tell him something. This was intriguing, he thought — might as well see what’s going on.

“What do you mean?” asked Henry, leaving an open-ended opportunity for Reid’s answer. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s…” Reid trailed off. “It’s Stacy. She’s been making transactions that you don’t know about.”

“I know,” said Henry, looking down at the drone in his hand. “I’ve just learned that.”

Reid was puzzled by Henry’s response. What did the drone have to do with it? Something wasn’t right, but Reid continued anyway. At this point, he needed to unload all the details.

“There’s nothing illegal about what Stacy’s doing,” said Reid, “it’s just… I don’t feel I can advise you appropriately any more. It’s a conflict of interest. I need to step aside.”

“Conflict of interest?” asked Henry, getting heated. “What conflict of interest?”

“Well, Stacy engaged me on the side for some additional financial advice. I can’t tell you all the details, because I have a fiduciary duty to her. I’ve known her a long time and wanted to help her out. I didn’t realize it at first, or maybe I was in denial, but I need to end this now. I can’t be an adviser to either of you any longer.”

“Wait,” said Henry, his voice rising, “a Wall Street guy worried about conflicts of interest and fiduciary duty?”

“Just doing my bit to make America great again,” said Reid, hoping to cut the tension.

Henry couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry.

“Listen,” continued Reid. “There’s more. I can’t tell you about Stacy’s finances, but there’s something else I need to tell you about her.”

Henry looked up and over Reid’s shoulder, down the driveway, looking for Stacy’s car. “She’ll be here pretty soon,” said Henry. “Come on in.”

They went into the house and made their way to the kitchen. Henry put the GAL 9000 down on the kitchen island, grabbed two drinking glasses and a bottle of Pellegrino from the fridge, and poured a glass for each of them as they sat down to talk.

Reid began, “I’ve been friends with Stacy a long time. You know that. But you and I have become friends too. And I care about Finn as well. I can see how well you get along with him and that you’re becoming even closer.”

Henry nodded.

“Stacy’s up to something,” continued Reid. “She’s got some scheme going, something to do with a property that you control. I think you need to watch out.”

Henry took a swig of Pellegrino, then put the glass back down on the countertop with a clink.

“You need to hear this,” said Henry. He picked up the drone and turned it back on. Using an app on his phone, he rewound the drone’s recording to the appropriate spot.

“…get your lawyer to hurry up with the suit against Henry… propose the property next to the drone company… a dry plot of land near the desert over a multimillion dollar settlement…”

Henry paused the playback. “I won’t play you the rest,” he said, wide-eyed, “but trust me, things don’t improve from here.”

Reid didn’t say anything. He sat, fidgeting, his leg bouncing up and down on the leg of the stool. A light fizzing sound filled the space, coming from the glasses of Pellegrino on the counter.

Finally Henry continued, his anger rising as he spoke. “I just talked to Stacy. She says Cavanaugh’s going to appear in court with his arm all bandaged up. They’re trying to pressure me to settle! They’re trying to pressure me to give them the land!”

“Well that’s bull,” replied Reid, trying to defuse the tension again. “I’ve seen Cavanaugh giving lessons at the club like nothing’s happened. They’re bluffing.”

“Who’s bluffing?” asked a voice coming from behind them. Henry and Reid whipped their heads around. Stacy was standing behind them in the door to the kitchen, staring at them.

Henry stood up, his face turning crimson, his eyes locked on Stacy. He grabbed the bottle of Pellegrino by the neck and suddenly chucked it, sidearm, towards Stacy’s head. It flipped end over end through the air like a Frisbee, finally connecting with the kitchen wall a few feet away from Stacy and shattering in an explosion of glass and fizz.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.