TITLE    : I Caught Her Cheating Ch. 02
STORYID  : i-caught-her-cheating-ch-02
SUMMARY  : The story ends.
AUTHOR   : Ephesus14@lit
DATE     : 2020-02-04
CATEGORY : loving-wives
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |cheating wives|loving wives|


I recommend you read the first part of this story before reading this. 



This story was always intended to be in two parts. 



The disclaimer about the court system and law enforcement remains in effect.



Cleveland still rocks!



I caught her cheating Ch. 02 ... What happens now? 



I walked out of the restaurant and out into the street. A cab was just discharging passengers as I heard her behind me. "Matt. Matt. Please, Matt. Listen to me."



I jumped in the now empty cab before she could reach me. 



"Where to, Mac."



"Just head up the street." We went several blocks before I told him to stop. I gave him a twenty and got out. It was about 8:30 and I started walking. My phone started ringing. It was Julie. I answered. "Was it only five times?"



"Matt, no, please, ..."



I didn't need to hear more. I turned my phone off.



'Did you sleep with him?' I had asked her years ago. 



'No. Oh, God no.' She had said.



'Matt, as God is my witness.' She had said.



'I swear on everything I hold holy that I never, ever had sex with him.' She had said.



God wasn't going to be happy with her, I thought. 



I was still walking at three in the morning and was exhausted, but there was no way I was going back to the Condo. I looked around and I was on Broadway. The last time I was there Julie and I had taken my mother and Les to see Mamma Mia. She had wanted to see Jersey Boys, but I told her the language might be a bit too rough.



Walking and thinking all night had led me to one conclusion, I had to get out of New York. These women must have a special way of telling that they can cheat on me. I was going to get my car, load it up with the things in the Condo I thought were important, and I was going to get out of town. It was early Sunday morning and I assumed Julie would be home so I couldn't get my stuff today. But I knew that there was a time sensitive project that she was working on so she had to be at work on Monday. 



Times Square is wide awake 24/7 so finding a hotel was no problem. I put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door and went to bed. I had resigned myself to leaving Julie and New York so sleeping came relatively easy.



I woke early in the afternoon and walked down the street to eat.



I turned my phone back on. There were an even dozen calls and nine messages from Julie. I deleted all of them and for the second time since I'd known her, blocked and deleted her number. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I didn't feel entirely like shit.



On Monday morning, I walked in the front door of our building. One of my favorite doormen was on duty. We greeted each other like old friends. 



"Harry," I said. "I know she told you to call her if I come in. Right?"



"Yes, Mr. Matt. she did."



"I want you to do me a favor."



"What's that, Mr. Matt?"



"Give me two hours before you call her." I handed him two hundred dollar bills. 



"You don't have to do that Mr. Matt. How about I give you an hour?" He looked at his watch. He never took the money.



It took me an hour and five minutes to gather my important stuff; mostly papers, manuscripts, banking and investment documents, some clothes and put them in my car. I also took what we called our 'getaway' money. It was $10,000 and we were saving it to use in the event we needed cash. I was in my car and had pushed the button to open the garage gate and leave. A police car came up the street and stopped in front of the building. Julie jumped out before it came to a complete stop and ran for the door.



She seemed to make it a habit of showing up in law enforcement vehicles just as I was leaving. The first time was the State Police Car; now this. I drove by the building and looked in to see her talking to Harry. 



The trip to Key West was uneventful. Knowing she had the full resources of the NYPD to assist her, I never used our credit cards during the trip in the event she tried to trace my moves using credit card receipts.



Five days after I arrived in Key West, I signed a three month lease on a very nice Condo. The owners rented it out when they were at their home in Michigan.



I had been in the Condo a week, when my editor Sylvia called. "Where are you, Matt"



"Not in New York."



"I know that. Julie has been trying to find you."



"I assumed that. But you won't tell her will you?"



"Of course not, but ..."



"No, buts, Sylvia. If you tell her I swear I will find a new editor and publisher."



"Okay. But it's a moot point because I don't know where you are, anyway."



"Correct."



"Sooo, wherever you are are you having fun?"



"Absolutely. These mountains are gorgeous." I have no idea if she took that bait.



"I'm sure they are. Listen, Matt, you know that you still have a book to write, don't you? Working on it might take your mind off your troubles."



"I don't have any troubles."



She laughed. "How many new friends have you met down there? How many evenings have you gone out for the fun of it? Don't tell me you don't have any troubles, buster."



She was right of course. I was in a blue funk and I decided to get rid of it if it killed me. 



Later that day, I went to the grocery store. There were two newspaper racks in front. One was the local paper; the other was a national rag which dealt only with sensationalism. On the front page of this piece of asswipe paper was a picture of Gordon Willis with a huge smirk on his face. The article detailed how he had taken advantage of at least 20 women and made a fortune doing it. Two more than the 18 I heard about before. He talked freely about how he picked his victims and how he was able to separate them from their money because once he had sex with them, they liked it so much they would do anything he asked.



That was enough for me. I couldn't finish it. This article was, most likely, the result of the conversation I heard in the restaurant the night I found out Julie had slept with him.



Someway, sometime, he was going to pay. It would have been so easy to fall back into my blue funk after seeing that paper, but I resisted. I made myself go out and meet people. I forced myself to go out at night to dance and party. It worked. Within days, I was almost back to my old self and a phone call made it better.



"Hello, Freddie. How's tricks?"



"It isn't Freddie, it's Michelle and tricks are fine. How are you Mister World Famous author?"



"Not too bad. What's up?"



"We've been talking to Ken and Mya and we were wondering what you thought of a weekend in Key West."



"When can you get here?"



"What do you mean? Are you there?"



"Yep."



"How long are you going to be there?"



"Maybe the rest of my life."



"How in the world did you ever convince Julie to move there?"



"I didn't. It was her who convinced me."



"What do you mean?"



"Does the word 'cheat' mean anything to you?"



"Sure it does. It means ... oh,no, Matt. Uh, you or her?"



"Her."



"I'm so sorry."



"Yeah, well. So when were you thinking of coming down?"



"In two weeks."



"Great. You guys can stay with me. There's plenty of room."



We talked for a bit longer before hanging up. Thirty minutes later my phone rang again. It was Ken and I had to tell the story all over again.



The weekend I spent with them was fantastic, as any time I spent with them was. This time was different because we were all in the same living quarters and not in separate hotel rooms. We were all immediately comfortable with the arrangement and enjoyed being together. After commiserating about Julie and me for about an hour, we headed for the beach and Julie was not mentioned again all weekend. 



The Condo had three bedrooms and two baths. They shared the second bath. After our day at the beach, we were back at the Condo. I started getting some steaks out to grill and the others went to change clothes. I had opened the package of steaks and sprinkled them with sea salt and pepper in preparation for grilling them, when Michelle came out. 



"May I use your shower? Ken and Mya are in ours and I can hear them playing around in there so they might be awhile."



"Sure, just save me some hot water."



She went to their bedroom and returned with a towel and her hair paraphernalia, and went into my bedroom. A couple of minutes later she called. 



"Matt, come in here please."



She was standing in the bathroom naked. 



The water was running in the big tub. I stopped and stared at her. She started to say something but stopped when she saw the look on my face. She started laughing. "What's wrong with you? You've seen me naked before."



"That was years ago and then only from the waist up. I like this better."



She laughed again and splashed water in my direction. "Pervert. How do you turn the shower on this thing?"



I leaned down and showed her where the button that changed the water from the faucet to the shower was.



"That's a stupid place to put it." She said stepping into the spray.



I stood for a few seconds and watched as she reached for the soap. I walked out and closed the door. It's difficult to have a hardon in swim trunks. For a lady who up until meeting Ken, Mya, and Matt had never had a man other than her husband undress her; or any men other than her husband and doctor see her breasts, allowing me to see her completely naked was something. I didn't mind.



The rest of the weekend went as expected it would. Lots of jokes and wine, but mostly, just friends being with friends and enjoying it. Other than grilling steaks, Michelle and Mya took over the kitchen for cooking while Freddie and Ken did the cleaning. Other than seeing Michelle naked, that was my favorite part.



They all left on Sunday evening with hugs, kisses, and handshakes all around. Like she did the night she exposed her breasts, when Michelle hugged me goodbye, I felt an extra tight squeeze. And instead of a kiss on the cheek, she quickly kissed my lips, then winked at me.



The Condo was lonely after they left. After pacing around for an hour, I sat at my computer and started writing. I worked on the outline for my next book.



Two weeks after my friends left, I received a call from Sylvia. 



"Matt, Mr. Meigs would like for you to fly up here for a meeting. He's interested in your outline for the new book and he wants to chat about a new contract. When can you get here."



"Probably next week. I can send the outline so you can look at it before I get there."



"No, that's okay. Bring it with you." 



I flew into New York the following Monday. Checked into my hotel, freshened up and went to see Sylvia and Justin Meigs. The meeting lasted a couple of hours and Sylvia offered to buy me dinner. I accepted. After all, they had made a lot of money off of me.



Sylvia was waiting for me outside the steakhouse I had suggested. It was considered one of the best, and most expensive, in the country. I opened the door for Sylvia and she stepped in. I looked around and there was only one empty table in the place. Next to the empty table was a table with only one person. Her back was to us, but she turned to talk to her waiter and I saw it was Julie.



I looked at Sylvia who was looking at me nervously. "Is this your idea? Or hers?"



"Matt, we just thought ..."



"No you didn't. You didn't think." I turned and left.



She followed me out. "Matt, you need to talk to her. She has something importa ... "



"No. What I need is a new editor. You and I are finished." I knew she and Julie had become friends, I just didn't know how close. 



I went back to my hotel and fumed. Two women cheat on me and two different women betray me. What in the hell? The next morning I called Justin Meigs. 



"Sylvia has already told me." He said. "I informed her that we are a publishing house not a marriage counseling service." There was a slight pause. "Were you serious about not wanting to work with her?"



"Absolutely. And the way I feel right now, I will finish the book I owe you, but that's it. I go shopping for a new publisher."



"I understand your feelings right now, Matt, but is it fair to punish the whole company for the action of one well meaning, but misguided employee?"



"Find me a new editor. A male this time."



The next call I received was from Ted Waring himself. 



"Matt, Justin and Sylvia have filled me in on what happened. I apologize for any embarrassment Sylvia's actions may have caused you. Why don't you and I meet for lunch. I will bring Marty Silvers along. He's our best editor and I think you will like him."



My lunch with Ted Waring and Martin (Marty) Silvers went well. Ted, of course, knew my background and instead of wasting his time rehashing it, Marty and I met back at his office to fill him in. He and I were walking down the hall toward his office when I saw Sylvia coming toward us. She saw me at the same time and immediately turned and went the other way.



I flew back to Kew West the next morning. I immediately started working on the book. 



At some point, I realized that I hadn't had sex in a very long time, and I made up my mind to do something about it. Two nights later, I had the opportunity for some pussy, but backed out of it at the last minute. Thoughts of Julie kept going through my mind.



I finished the book and took it to Marty in New York. I hung around for a couple of days waiting for the official verdict. When it came, it wasn't good.



"You have published five books. The first one was pretty good and each one after that got better. But this? This book is dark, dreary, and almost unreadable. You will lose 80% of your reader base if we publish this."



I just looked at him. "I don't disagree."



"Well, then, rewrite it." He tossed it to me over his desk. "This time spend less time feeling sorry for yourself."



I was sitting in the deli down the street from the hotel later that evening. The TV was turned to local news. A picture of Julie's uncle popped up. With him were his wife and a beaming Julie holding an infant. "Former Governor Anthony Amato today announced that he is running for the United States Senate." 



His term of office had been over for a couple of years. 



"With him as he made the announcement were his wife, Ann, and his niece Julie Painter and her son."



Her son? Her son? That meant he was my son. Unless, of course, she fucked someone else. Should I call her and ask? I could imagine that conversation. 'Hello, Julie. This is Matt. Is your son my son or does he belong to someone else you may have fucked?' 



The announcer said her name was Julie Painter. I wondered if she and I were still married. It had been a long time since I walked out on her. I assumed that with her family's money, she could very easily get a divorce and I might not know about it.



I nibbled on the rest of my food and contemplated being a father. I had never given it much consideration and Julie and I had never talked about it. I was torn. Call her or not call her. I had deleted her number but I still remembered it. I called her.



My hand was shaking as I punched in the number.



"Hello." She said .



"Hi. This is Matt."



"I know who it is. I saw your number. What do you want?"



"I saw you on TV."



"Okay."



"You were holding a baby."



"And you were wondering if he's yours. Well, he isn't. Twice I've chased after you begging you to listen to me and twice you've run off. What kind of man does that? What kind of man doesn't give his wife a chance to defend herself? I'll tell you what kind. A heartless, insensitive, bastard who is incapable of love. No, Matt, my son is not yours. His name is Gordy and I named him after his father, Gordon Willis. He found me after you ran off. He fucked me like the slut you think I am. He treated me like his whore and he still does; I'm the whore you're convinced I am and I like it. So, kiss my ass, you coward and leave my son and me alone."



If Martin Silvers thought I was feeling sorry for myself before, he should have seen me then. I was a basket case. 



It was a full week before I became me again. I was sitting on the beach, watching other people having fun, wishing that could be me. I asked myself, 'why can't I be like them?' The answer came quickly. I can. All I have to do is want to badly enough. So I started writing all day and partying late into most nights. 



It didn't take long to fix my book. That was good because my contract would expire soon and I didn't want to be in default. I got on a plane and took the revised manuscript to Marty. I left it with him. He called me two days later and asked me to come back to his office.



"Welcome, back, Matthew Painter. This is the way we know you can write." 



"Thank you, Marty." We patted each other on the back for awhile longer. 



"Uh, Matt, before you go, we need to think about another contract."



"We'll see. We'll see."



I left the building and started walking. By six I was in the bar of the hotel. The bartender and I closed it at two in the morning. I only had three drinks and stayed sober. By midnight everyone was gone but the two of us. We talked about a lot of things, but mostly we talked about women.



The heavy pounding on the hotel room door woke me at nine. I got up, unbolted and opened the door. The first thing I saw was two men in suits standing there. The next thing I saw was a badge indicating that the holder of said badge was a member of New York's finest.



"Mr. Painter?"



"Yes."



"You need to come with us."



"Why?"



"Because we said so."



"What's this all about?"



"You'll find out downtown. Let's go."



"Am I under arrest?"



"If that's what it takes."



"May I get dressed?"



"As long as you stay in our sight."



I got dressed and we started out the door.



"I have to piss."



"Leave the door open."



Fuck 'em. If they wanted to watch me piss, that was okay by me. I finished, washed my hands, dried them and we left. All the while I was wondering what the hell was going on.



I sat in the back of their unmarked car. "Do I need a lawyer?" No response. "Will you please tell me what this is about?" Silence. It was like that the whole trip.



When we got 'downtown' they put me in a little room where I sat for an hour. I tried the door to leave, but it was locked. I pounded on it until someone came and opened it. He just looked at me. "If I'm not under arrest, I'm leaving." I started to walk around him and he moved to stop me but someone behind him spoke. 



"That's all right, Tom. I've got this." He came in the room. "Have a seat, Mr. Painter."



"I'm tired of sitting. I've been here an hour while you and your friends have watched me on your little TV's out there." I indicated the camera in the corner of the room by the ceiling. "What's this all about?"



"I'm asking the questions, not you. Comprende?" 



"Well, you can ask all you want, but I'm not answering jack shit until I find out what I'm doing here. So either tell me or I'm getting a lawyer. Comprende?"



At that point another man entered the room. "Mr. Painter, I'm Detective Briggs. Have a seat please and I'll explain it to you."



I sat.



"Last night around 10:30, a man was severely beaten not too far from where you used to live. He was taken to the hospital and treated for multiple injuries including three busted ribs, five teeth knocked out, and mutilation of his genital area. When he was able to speak, we asked him if he had any idea who did it. His response as well as we could determine without his front teeth was 'the bitch's husband'."



"What does that have to do with me?"



"It was in the neighborhood where you used to live."



"I haven't lived there for a long time."



"But we understand he knows your wife and generally in cases like this we suspect the husb ..." 



The light bulb went on over my head and my eyes opened wide. "Willis? Gordon Willis got his ass kicked?"



"Yes."



I started to laugh. "You'll never know how many ways I've thought of to maim that son of a bitch and I'll kiss the ass of whoever did it, but it wasn't me. I wish it had been."

<hr pg="2" />"He implied it was."



"It wasn't. I was in the bar of my hotel from around six until it closed at two. The bartender and I spent the evening telling each other our bad luck with women stories. Did you ask Willis why he wasn't home taking care of his son?"



"I beg your pardon?"



"I asked why he wasn't at home taking care of his son?"



"What are you talking about?"



"You said he was beaten up in the neighborhood where I used to live. Well, my wife, or ex-wife, I'm not really sure what she is, told me recently that Willis was the father of her son and that she was still sleeping with him, so I assume he is living with her. If he is, he should have been home with them."



"Are you sure about this?"



"I'm sure that is what she told me. As to whether he lives with her is, as I've said, an assumption on my part."



"Excuse me. We'll be right back."



It wasn't long until Detective Briggs came back. 



"You're free to go Mr. Painter and thank you. Someone will take you back to your hotel."



"Any reason I can't go home?"



"Where's home?"



"Key West."



"I don't see why not."



I was back in my favorite deli eating one of their famous sandwiches and, again, the local news was on. They were talking about Willis. "Gordon Willis, a convicted felon who is on parole was severely beaten last night. Mr. Willis gained notoriety when he was arrested in an undercover sting for scamming money from women he had seduced. He was sentenced to eight years in prison but was paroled after five years. Shortly after his release, he was featured in an article in which he told of his many conquests. Most of the money he swindled was recovered and returned. Police suspect a husband of one of his victims to be responsible. One such husband was questioned earlier today but was released when his alibi was verified. Of course, the police also say that there is always the possibility of it being a drug deal gone wrong. If they find that to be the case, Mr. Willis will no doubt be returned to prison to serve out the remainder of his sentence."



When I left the police station earlier, I left with mixed emotions. I was happy that he had been beaten within an inch of his life, but at the same time, I was reminded that Julie had his son and he was possibly living with her or her with him. I finished my sandwich and went to the hotel.



I hung around the city for four days catching up on plays and exploring more places to hang out, dance, and drink. I was in the airport just going through security on my way to Florida. The security agent checking boarding passes and ID's looked at mine then checked a piece of paper on his desk and spoke. 



"Mr. Painter, would you mind waiting over there please?" I picked up my carryon bag and reached for my boarding pass and ID. "I'll hold on to these." He said.



I walked to where he directed me. I had been there about ten minutes when a man approached the security agent who stopped me. He retrieved my documents and came over to me.



"We're sorry for delaying you, Mr. Painter. Is it absolutely necessary for you to take this flight?" He waved my boarding pass.



"Not absolutely. No."



"Good, because Former Governor Amato would like to talk with you. We will make sure you get a flight afterward."



"Have you any idea what he wants to talk about?"



"I'm just an errand boy, sir."



"Is he here in the airport?"



"No sir. He is in his office in Manhattan."



"Do I have a choice?"



"Of course. You are under no obligation to see him."



"Then I prefer not to miss my flight."



"Very good, sir." He said returning my documents. "Have a safe trip." 



I had no trouble making my flight.



Three days later, I was sitting on my balcony working on a possible outline for a future book when the doorbell rang.



I opened it to see Former Governor Anthony Amato standing there.



"Hello, Matt. Good to see you again." He stuck out his hand. I shook it.



"Governor." I said noncommittally.



"Call me Tony, please. May I come in?'



I opened the door wider and he walked in. He was carrying a briefcase which had to have cost more than the monthly rent on my Condo. "Florida is good for you. You have a nice tan."



"What can I do for you, Governor?" I said a bit impatiently.



"Maybe I can do something for you." He said. "Have a seat." I remained standing. He put his briefcase down, opened it, and took out a folder. "I wanted to give you this before you left New York but you weren't available, so I decided to bring it to you. I had to call in a couple of favors to get it, and I've broken a couple of laws but I think it's worth it."



He walked over and handed the folder to me. I took it. 



"What is it?"



"It's part of the police file on Gordon Willis. It makes interesting reading. I can give you a general idea of what it says if you like."



I sat. "Go ahead." He started to pace as he spoke.



"Julie went undercover against my better judgement, to catch this schmuck. You will remember that she has lots of passion about things. When you told her about what Willis had done to your ex-wife, she did a little digging and discovered that he wasn't the only one doing this. She hated it. Men like him taking advantage of vulnerable women. She decided that she couldn't do anything about the other men, but since she had the name of this one, she would go after him. She convinced her bosses that he was worth going after and that she wanted to be the bait. She is not a uniformed officer so not normally permitted to do work like this. She came to me and it took some convincing, but I finally agreed to ask her superiors to allow it. They relented and she started."



He was silent for a while before he continued.



"She met him at his gym and struck up a conversation. Over a period of about a week, she convinced him that she was lonely, her husband travelled too much, she was beginning to drink too much, and so on and so on. He took the bait. He asked her to dinner, the theatre, dancing. All the things that had worked for him in the past seemed to be working again. He tried to seduce her as part of his overall M.O. but when she realized he was more interested in money than sex, it was easy enough to keep him at bay." 



He paused again. "May I have some water?"



I had been holding the folder, but put it down. I got him a glassful of water and returned to my seat. He took a drink, held the glass and continued talking.



"About two weeks into the operation, he brought up the subject of money and told her that she needed to protect herself by taking some and investing it. He told her that he knew his way around the stock market and could help her. He also told her that it would be better if she took as much as she could and did it all at once. By now they had been out several times. He had even taken her to a tattoo parlor to look at tattoos. He tried to convince her to get a small shamrock on the back of her neck. We found out later that the shamrock tattoo was sort of his brand. He bragged that there were probably 20 or more of his women with shamrocks on their necks. He tried several more times to seduce Julie, but each time she was able to redirect his attention to money. We arranged to provide a quarter of a million dollars so she could give it to him to invest. That was the trigger. We followed the money and when it went to an off shore bank instead of an investment portfolio, he was arrested."



He drank the last of the water and put the glass down.



"In prison, he couldn't keep his mouth shut. He tried to improve his reputation with other prisoners by bragging. They were teasing him about being busted by a woman and not even a real cop at that. So he started telling everybody that he had slept with her and that she was the governor's niece. Julie being my niece had been brought out at his trial. The more he bragged, the more sex he wanted people to believe he had with her. When he was released on parole, that scandal sheet was first in line to interview him. They paid him $50,000.



"The night you saw him in the restaurant, was his first meeting with the reporter from the newspaper. He had no idea you and Julie were there. He was just bragging to the reporter and, again, thought his credibility and reputation would be enhanced by telling the reporter he had slept with the Governor's niece. For five years in prison he had told the story of sleeping with her, but nobody on the outside had ever heard him say that. The paper never included his claims of having slept with her for fear of being sued; as they most assuredly would have been.



"When Julie heard him in the restaurant, she was so shocked, she was almost speechless. She didn't know what to say, and you left so fast that by the time she regained her composure, you were gone.



"That night was going to be special for both of you because she was going to tell you that she was pregnant ... but she never had a chance. 



"Apparently you never read her messages where she denied having sex with him and begged you to listen to her. She was really mad at you for that and stayed mad for a long time and being pregnant didn't help; her emotions were in constant conflict. The fact that you believed a scumbag like Willis and refused to listen to your own wife, hurt her terribly. But she never gave up on your marriage. Never. We kept trying to convince her to either get a divorce or tell you she was pregnant, but her answer was always, 'If he wants one, he can get it'. 



Then when the baby was born we all tried to get her to tell you about him, but as you know, she has a stubborn streak and wouldn't relent. Some of us, specifically, my wife, wanted to tell you herself, but Julie put her foot down. 



"Then you saw her on TV when I made my announcement and you called her. She, at first, started to tell you about the baby, but her dark side took over. She wanted to hurt you as badly as you hurt her by not letting her explain what really happened so she made up the story about her and that creep. She called me immediately afterward and told me what she had told you. She was a wreck, Matt. She wanted to call you back and tell you the truth but she was embarrassed and convinced you wouldn't believe her. She cried for a week."



He sat in a chair across from me, leaned forward and looked me straight in the eye. "That baby is yours, Matt. He's your son and his name isn't Gordy. It's Matthew and he needs his father. And his mother needs her husband."



I sat back and stared at him. I wanted to believe him. "That's a good story, but is it true? Willis seemed pretty convincing when I overheard him."



"In that file are the results of two separate polygraph tests he was given in the hospital at my request. One was administered by NYPD. The other by the State Police. They asked identical questions and got identical responses. He never had sex with Julie." He paused. "I love my niece. Annie and I have raised her since her parents died and she is like our own daughter. In fact, we think of her as our daughter since we weren't blessed with children. We want her to be happy. We want her to have the best. We want her life to be as trouble free as it can be. She was happier with you than she has ever been; and that made us happy.



"I regret ever condoning her taking part in that investigation. I've seen her spend most of this past year in tears. The only thing that makes her smile is your son. 



"I'm a busy man but my niece's happiness and yours deserve my coming down here to talk to you face to face." He stood, picked up his briefcase and walked to the door. "It was good seeing you, Matt. I'm going back to New York. There's a seat on my plane if you want to go with me. We have wheels up at two."



He left. I sat looking at the folder. After about ten minutes, I stood, picked it up, walked to the kitchen counter and let it slide out of my hand into the trashcan that was sitting there.



At two o'clock, I was sitting on the Amato family jet when it lifted off. The former Governor's driver dropped me off at Julie's Condo several hours later. Harry was on duty and opened the door for me.



"Welcome back, Mr. Painter. Shall I announce you?"



"No, thank you, Harry. I think I'll surprise her."



I got off the elevator and knocked on the door. She opened it and saw me. Tears immediately formed in her eyes. 



"Come in." She said. I walked in and set my bag down. We just looked at each other. 



"I'm so sorry." I finally choked out. Now two of us were crying. 



"Oh, God, Matt. Me, too." We launched ourselves at the same time and were in each other's arms. The first few kisses were desperate ones. They were followed by soft, tender kisses interrupted by short breaks where we just stood and looked at each other. Then we heard a small cough and we both looked in the direction from which it came. She smiled. "That's your son. Would you like to meet him?"

