Mr. Beautiful

He nodded and agreed, and left with the phone.

I was frazzled.  I wanted, first and foremost, to change out of my clothes, that that strange na**d woman had been all over.  I went to my attached suite, quickly showering and changing into another suit.

I wanted to forget that the entire incident had ever happened.

By the time I got home to Bianca, I just didn't want to talk about it.  The whole thing had been odd and pointless, left a bad taste in my mouth, and I just wanted to put it behind me.

We were back in Vegas when the news hit.

A video had been leaked, a drastically doctored video that made it look very bad, made it look like I'd been embracing a na**d woman in my office, instead of warding her off.

My first and biggest question: Who had leaked it?

My office manager had a whole hell of a lot to answer for.

My first and biggest concern:  Bianca.

Of course.  What else?

I was at the casino when it hit.  I left right away, as soon as I saw and heard what had been leaked, in fact.

Bianca was not at home and had not answered her phone.  It nearly sent me into a panic.

Stephan had not answered his either.  A sick feeling was crawling persistently through my belly, snaking its way up to my chest.

Javier picked up on the first ring.  "She's with him," he told me.

"Is she all right?  Is she upset?"

"Yes.  She's upset.  Someone emailed her something, a message about, I don't know, whatever is happening with that video."

"How upset?'

Long pause, then, "Very.  She's . . . I heard her say to Stephan that you'd lied to her.  I think that's the part she's freaking out about."

"Lied?  About what?"

"About sleeping with that girl."

She'd seen the video and believed the worst.

It more than stung.  It sliced me right open.

In spite of how it all looked, I'd hoped she just knew me better, knew that my faithful heart was unassailable.

"She really thinks I slept with another woman?" I asked, feeling lost.

"No!  Not like that.  She thinks you lied about sleeping with her before, as in before Bianca."

"I just met that woman a few days ago," I told him.

"I don't know what to tell you.  You should just come over, talk to her."

I did.  She and Stephan were in their den.  He had his arm around her, and she wasn't looking at me.

I watched her face, an all too familiar out of control, helpless feeling overtaking me.

Her face was closed off, expression very blank, and when Bianca didn't want you to read her, she was unreadable.

It was so cold, her anger, her silent condemnation.

I couldn't stand it.  I'd rather she raged and caused a scene.  Instead, she closed me off, closed herself off, while she processed, sometimes asked a few questions, and then eventually came back around.

It was always on her timeline, though, and often after spending copious amounts of time with Stephan, who could soothe her as no one else could.

I looked at Stephan, knowing this wouldn't go over well, but, "Can we have some privacy please?"

He looked at Bianca.  Much to my relief, she nodded for him to go.

I sat beside her, but not close, not touching.

She was so untouchable then, and I couldn't stand to even try to when she was like this.  That wasn't what I came to her for.  Until it was right again, I didn't want to touch her, not even for comfort.

"It was all staged.  Clark is getting the full video now.  It will show you very clearly that I was not a willing participant in that.

"I know that.  I saw your face in the video.  I could just tell.  That's not what's bothering me.  You lied to me."

We hadn't had an interaction like this in a very long time.  She was acting like she didn't trust me, and I just couldn't stand it.

She grabbed her phone, scrolled through it briefly, and then handed it to me.

I squinted at the picture on the screen, then cringed.  It was a photo of me.  My college days, I saw.  At a frat party.  I had my arm around a girl with dark hair.  Her hand was on my crotch.

I remembered the college me, and though I didn't remember her, or that night.  I knew the college me had f**ked her right after taking that picture, or at least it was more likely than not what had happened.

The hair was different, and she was much younger here, but the picture was clear enough that I could tell it was Winona.

I glanced up at her.  "I didn't remember her, I swear.  Whoever sent you this did a lot of homework into an obscure and unmemorable night in my past.  Why?  I couldn't tell you, but I did not remember this, did not remember her.  I swear it.  I never would have lied to you on purpose.  I never would have let her work there for even five minutes, for that matter, had I known.

Finally she looked at me, studied me for a long time, as though working something out in her head.

"You really slept with that many women that you could run into some and not remember?"

I looked down at my hands, wishing my answer were different, for her sake.  "Most of them, I think.  Yes.  I'm sorry."

She shifted beside me and suddenly she was burrowing into me, her arms wrapping tight.

Shudders of relief rocked through my body.

There she was, my lover was back, just how I needed her.