Struggling to Survive Pt. 03

Something else was off also. Yes. There it was. She was humming. According to the new norm that I'd gotten used to, the Kara that I knew didn't exude such...what is the word...cheerfulness. She definitely didn't enjoy going to work. But here she was looking as if she were anticipating the day.

I didn't give voice to my concerns. I didn't alert her that I was even awake. I just laid there and watched.

When she was finally satisfied with her appearance, she grabbed her purse and disappeared from the room. No kiss goodbye. No nothing. It was like I wasn't even there.

My mind rewound and struggled to recall previous mornings. When did she start caring about how she looked? Had she been dressing up for work for a while now, or was this something recent? Why the sudden change?

More importantly, what do I make of all of this?

The longer I sat in bed and pondered, the more uneasy I became. I came to a couple of conclusions that that didn't sit well with me.

The first one, but not the most important one, was that I haven't been paying attention to my wife for quite some time now. As I thought back, I couldn't figure out when she started dressing up. I honestly couldn't tell if this was something recent, or if it had been going on for a while. It wasn't like she was dressing in secret. We sat in the same bedroom every morning while she prepared for work. She came home every evening with the same clothes on. I couldn't even recall what she'd worn yesterday.

The second conclusion led to more questions. There was something about her behavior, besides the dressing up, that was different than it had been. I may not have been cognizant of her clothing habits as of late, but I have been acutely aware of her attitude. We hadn't been really fighting lately, but that wasn't because we were getting along. It was more like she didn't care anymore. She seemed to be more apathetic lately. However, this morning there was a spark in her.

Where did this spark come from? Nothing significant had changed between us. We went to work, we came home, we ate, we slept, we woke up the next morning and did it all over again.

I looked at digital numbers on my bedside clock and realized that I'd been sitting in bed too long. I had to get ready for work, as well as get Sam dressed for my mother to come and get him and bring him to Kindergarten.

For the rest of the morning, until I got to work, I did things on autopilot. My focus seemed to be elsewhere. For some reason, I couldn't shake this ominous feeling.

When I got to work though, I was zeroed in. I put Kara to the back of my mind and focused on the task at hand. I didn't think any more about my home life until I was in the car driving back home.

She wasn't home when I got there. That was strange since she got off work a full hour before I did. Dean was sitting on the couch watching TV when I came in.

"Hey son. You seen your mom?"

He shook his head. "She's probably still at work pops. Shouldn't she be home by now?"

I shrugged nonchalantly as I tried to brush it off. I didn't want to alert him. Dean is pretty perceptive, and I didn't want him to pick up on anything.

"I guess she had to work late. Did your granny drop off Sammy yet?"

I saw him wince when I said granny. He never acknowledged her as such. I couldn't really blame him. My mother didn't exactly open up the road of love and affection with him. She lavished Sam as the grandson she always wanted, and barely acknowledged Dean. I had to suppress the surge of bitterness that I felt toward my mother.

He shook his head no, and then turned back to watch TV.

"I'll order a couple of pizzas. Sausage and Pepperoni okay son?"

I heard Kara's car in the driveway about a half hour later. In fact, she must have met the pizza man outside and paid him, because she came in the house with our meal.

When she walked through the door, I didn't know who she was. She rushed over to me like she hadn't seen me in months and greeted me with a warm kiss. I was so surprised that I almost didn't return it.

"Hey you." She said when she pulled away. I must have looked like a fish out of water. This was something that hadn't happened in our house for quite some time now.

"Ummm, hi honey..." I said as I looked at her inquisitively. I noted the faint taste of alcohol on her lips She simply giggled and sauntered into the kitchen to claim a slice.

"You ordered pizza honey. Great! I'm starving."

I should have been happy to get this kind of treatment. Isn't a man dying of thirst happy to get a drink of water? But I wasn't. This seemed more like a mirage than a refreshing oasis.

As we sat down to eat with our two boys, I decided to ask a few probing questions. I wanted to make them seem innocuous and innocent, but at the same time pointed enough to get some kind of reaction. With the boys sitting at the table with us, Kara wouldn't turn into a bitch.

"How was work honey? You seem particularly happy today. Anything good happen?"

She appeared to stifle a smile, like she didn't want me to see it. Then, in a voice that was supposed to be calm and disinterested but was completely forced, she said, "No, nothing much happened. My boss may be getting investigated for misuse of company funds, and will probably get fired, but other than that it was a pretty normal day."

There was something very off about...EVERYTHING. I didn't need an NZT pill (Limitless reference) to connect the dots and see that something wasn't right.

Her statement about her boss getting investigated was all wrong. If memory serves, this was the same guy who harassed her a while back. The same guy who made her quit in the first place, but whom she had to crawl back to begging for a second chance. The fact that she was purposely trying to downplay the significance of him being investigated and possibly fired was alarming.

In the least, that is JUICY GOSSIP. No one can resist telling their spouse about something like that. She should have been biting at the chomp to spill that bit of news. The entire story should have been at the tip of her tongue. The only reason for her to try to appear disinterested in it was if she had something to hide about. The only conclusion that I could come up with was that she was directly involved in her boss' downfall. However, this only raised another question. Even if she was involved, why did she have to hide it from me?

There was something in the air about this. So I decided to probe further.

"Your boss was misusing funds? Wow. Is this the same boss that was harassing you and made you quit?"

She stiffened for a moment, then shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah. But that was a while ago. He hasn't tried anything since."

Hmmm.

"Do you know what he was doing with the money? How did he get caught? C'mon Honey, this is juicy gossip! It's not everyday that your boss gets caught misusing company funds. You act like it's nothing." I said, trying to sound like nothing more than the nosy husband.

"I don't really know anything more honey. I try to stay out of office politics. I just go in, do my job and come home. It's really boring. What about you, sweetie? You haven't told me anything about your day."

The quick topic change and the tone of her voice let me know that I wasn't learning anything more from this conversation. So I let it rest. But there was no way that I was going to sit on this. One way or another, I was going to find out what the hell was going on.

*******************************

Kara narrating: Earlier that same morning.

I have no sexy clothes. Have I always dressed for work like I was going door to door selling bibles and telling people about the "good news"? How am I supposed to entice a man into spilling his secrets looking like a 60-year-old librarian?

I sighed with dissatisfaction as I shifted through my choices. Normally, I could give a damn about how I looked at work. The less I looked like a sex kitten, the more I was treated like a person. After having a career in which the only thing people cared about was my body, I needed to be taken seriously as a person.

However, today I needed to call upon my powers of seduction. If me and Richard's plan was to have any chance of success I needed to make Norman's blood flow into that location that makes a man incapable of thinking properly.

I finally chose something that was semi-flattering and tried to find ways to make it sexy. It took me 20 minutes of primping in front of the mirror to finally get things right. Luckily, Tom was asleep and didn't witness it. That would have led to a few questions that I didn't really feel like answering. After a final inspection to insure that I looked semi-sexy, I left for work.

Once I was in the car, I sent a quick text to my partner in crime. I don't know why I texted him. I really didn't have to. I guess I needed the moral support. It said:

OTW to work. Will try to talk to Norm around lunchtime. Wish me luck.

I backed out of the driveway and proceeded to drive. Before I made it to my first traffic light, I heard my phone ding. I checked it and found a return message from Richard.

U will do fine. He would have to b dead to not fall for ur charms. Did u dress sexy?

I should have left it at that. He once again found a way to slide a compliment into normal conversation. I tried to downplay it as I had always done, but Richard is the master flatterer. I texted back:

I don't have n e sexy clothes. Hopefully I can still charm him.

His reply was:

Not 2 worry. U could make a mascot uniform sexy. No doubt u will be successful. Good luck! Call me later. ;)

I had to squelch the butterflies that accompanied that response. Stop it Kara! You're a married woman. You love Tom. Stop acting like a schoolgirl with a crush.

I hummed all the way to work.

During the course of the day, I couldn't help but to notice the second glances that I received. They were used to dowdy frumpy Kara. I felt slightly uncomfortable having everyone appraising my appearance, but it also gave me reassurance as to my mission.

My mission. Sounds so clandestine. So adventurous.

I tried to find excuses to go see Norman. I needed to have a legitimate reason for going to see him. Unfortunately, I had no work related purpose for even finding myself on his floor. Richard handled all of the paperwork that had to go to the accounting department. Instead of giving them to his secretary to deliver, he hand-delivered them himself.

Where's the trust?

So, I was left with one option. Winging it and hoping for the best. Sounds foolproof, doesn't it?

I decided to go under the guise of asking his advice on personal money matters. It was thin, but it was all I had. So when I was able to clock out for lunch, I took the elevator up to the 10^th floor.

The accounting department was nothing like I imagined. In my mind, there would be a bunch of nerds sitting in a big room furiously punching numbers into their calculators and writing things down. What I found was a bit anticlimactic. Their floor looked EXACTLY like the one I worked on. I heard the familiar sounds of the phone ringing and being answered by another secretary.

I wandered the halls for a moment until I found Norman's office. I half hoped he wasn't in. His voice on the phone negotiating terms of a payment to be made told me the opposite. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. Then, I undid another button on my blouse and shifted it to ensure that a peek of the lacy material of my bra was visible. I then shifted my tits to ensure maximum cleavage. When I heard him hang up the phone I lightly rapped on his door.

"Uhh, Norman? Hi. It's me, Kara from downstairs. I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment?"

Norman's eyes almost bugged out of his head. He seemed taken aback for a moment. He gathered himself and said, "Umm, sure. You can talk to me Mrs. Winchester."

I came in and took a seat. As I did so I slowly crossed my legs. My not so subtle movement was not unnoticed. I don't know how much of my thighs that he saw, but it got his attention.

I punctuated my stance by leaning back in my chair and taking a deep breath. The swell of my ample breasts stuck out through the thin material of my blouse. I smiled to myself as I pretended not to notice his staring.

"I have a question Norman. I was normally wouldn't come all the way down here, but you're the smartest man I know."

That compliment seemed to go straight to his groin. I don't think there was any blood left in his head. He swallowed hard and seemed a bit uncomfortable. I noticed that his eyes never left my legs and tits. I started to feel more confident in my ability to manipulate James' lapdog.

"Okay Kara. I'll see if I can help you."

I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knee. This move dropped my tits and gave him a peek at my cleavage.

"Okay Norman. But you have to promise that what we talk about stays between the two of us." He quickly nodded his head in agreement.

I decided to take a risk and reference the rumors about James and I. Since I was certain that the two of them had discussed my "oral skills" in great detail, I wanted his mind to picture me doing that.

"Ever since I...did that thing for James, my husband has become suspicious. He threatened to leave me. I think he was upset because I...swallowed. I only did that for him before. But it wasn't like I meant to. I mean, there I was down on my knees and James' cum just...shot out. Before I knew what was happening, it was down my throat. What else was I supposed to do with it? I didn't have any place to spit it out. I guess I could have just let it dribble on my tits since I had my shirt off, but I didn't think about it at the time. Hindsight is a bitch, isn't it Norman?"

I swear to God I think he just came on himself. His pit sweat was becoming more visible and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. I stifled the urge to laugh at him.

"Well, anyways, I need help to come up with a budget plan in case my husband kicks me out. Like I said before, you're the only one who can help me. Normy Wan Kenobe, you're my final hope."

Just as I hoped, he chuckled at my Star Wars reference. I had to admit, I was good.

"Will you help me Norman?"

He nodded dumbly. Phase one complete.

My plan was simple. Distract his mind and remove suspicion. Check. Next, I was going to get him talking. The more people talk, the more comfortable they feel. I was going to pepper questions about James' activity throughout our time together. The problem was, I only had an hour. Well, at this point I only had 39 minutes.

The conversation after that was all "debits and credits" for a little while. I zoned out for most of it. I did get really close and lean over him as I studied his spreadsheet. I made sure he could smell my perfume. A quick glance at his lap let me know that my efforts were appreciated.

I decided to turn the topics into something that could get me some info.

"No wonder James is always saying that you're the smartest guy he knows! I'll bet doing his budget is ten times harder than mine's."

Like a good little fish, he took the bait.

"You bet! Between you and me, keeping his numbers straight is a challenge!"

"How so? I mean, shouldn't it be the same thing as doing my budget? Debits and Credits are the same no matter what, right?"

He snickered at my naiveté.

"Well, normally it would be along the same lines, but on a larger scale. But with James, I often have to use a little more...imagination to keep things straight. Let me show you."

So he opened up...whatever program he uses to account for numbers. He went into at length detail (ad nauseam is more like it) about how he corrects James spending habits. There was no smoking gun, but I saw enough to see that Mr. Worthy would have been fired long ago without Norman.

That's when I saw it. I don't know why it stuck out to me, but it did. Petty Cash withdrawal last Friday for $499.

I remembered my conversation with Sandra at the restaurant. She said that James had recently spent $500 on her in lap dances and "other things". Those two things couldn't just be coincidence. I looked closely at the notation and it said: Miscellaneous: Perspective Client Goodwill meeting. As his secretary I scheduled all of his meetings and business events. I hadn't scheduled anything for him on Friday.

Richard said that this was a pattern. I had to get a peek at the previous month's reports to see if I could see anything.

"Wow Norman! This is exciting. Quick, show me last month's report!" I practically breathed in his ear. I sounded like a horny version of Jessica Rabbit.

Norman quickly opened more files and showed me everything I wanted to see. I began to see the pattern too. Each month the Petty Cash withdrawals were around the same time frame, and they were always under $500.

I had to smile at the cleverness of it. The company policy, as far as senior management's usage of the Petty Cash fund, wouldn't ask to look further into a Petty Cash withdrawal for anything less than $500. Especially if it was for something as hard to trace as a perspective client meeting. Even if he didn't produce a client, things would get overlooked because it could simply be one that got away. As further insurance, he had Norman there to make all of these transactions look legit. No one would question both James and the Accountant.

After that discovery, I quickly thanked Norman for his help and left him with a bad case of blueballs. On the way back to my floor, I quickly dialed Sandra and prayed that she would pick up.

"Hey Kara! I was just thinking about you. What's up?"

"Hey Sandy. I think I got something on James, but it concerns you. You told me that he spent about $500 on you last Friday, right."

"Yeah. Why?"

"Does he do that often?"

"Yeah. He's one of my regulars. He always comes to me, but about once a month he needs his "special lapdance". On those nights he drops about $500."

"Has he ever brought anybody with him? Like business clients?"

I heard silence as she thought. "No, I don't think so. Not unless you count that geeky accountant that he brings with him sometimes."

Geeky accountant. Now things were becoming clearer.

"Do you remember his name Sandy?"

She thought for a minute more. "Norman. That's it. What's up honey? What's going on?"

I could barely contain my glee. It was all I could do to keep from jumping up and down in the elevator.

"Sandy, I love you so much! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I promise that I'll fill you in later. I gotta go now."

As the elevator doors opened on my floor, I had a permanent smile on my face. I sent a quick text to my partner as I sat at my desk.

Got some info. Call you later.

His reply was almost immediate.

Is it good?

Me: Oh, yea. J

Him: That's my girl!

***

"You're fucking kidding me? He is actually using Petty Cash to fuck some whore? This is too good."

I had to stop myself from revealing too many secrets when he called Sandra a whore. I gingerly sipped my margarita to keep myself from yelling at him.

"What I don't get..." he continued, "Is why he would do something so stupid. He makes enough money to just pay for it himself. Why risk using Petty Cash to do it?"

I had pondered that same question over the course of the day. I came up with only one logical reason as to why he would.

"My guess is that his wife handles the money at home. She probably pays all of the bills. That's how it is in my home with my...uh, my husband." I quickly took a gulp of my drink and wondered why I hesitated to mention Tom.