C.A.K.E

Two-thirty in the morning and Karma's just now slipping into the hotel's shower. Cain made his exit about fifteen minutes ago. She's been lying in the middle of a rented bed, trying to recover from his eight-inch pleasure stick.

After she's washed Cain's essence off her body, she gets dressed and does her makeup again. She dabs at her lipstick and smudges her eyeliner a bit. Then she spritzes her face with a little water. For her excuse that she's been stuck in her office all night to fly, she has to look the part. L'oreal has some fantastic foundation, but even it wouldn't look flawless after twelve hours.

She collapses on one of the lounge chairs in the suite and flips through a couple of channels on the flat screen. The urge to go home hasn't struck her. In fact, she's thinking about spending the night here. After all, she's already paid for it. That seems like a far better option than creeping into her home at this hour.

Casper must be going out of his mind. She checks her cell, expecting to see a host of messages from her husband. But there are no missed calls or frantic voicemails for her to listen to with an aggravated smirk painted on her face. Maybe he fell asleep.

Or maybe he just doesn't give a shit about where you are, bitch.

She shakes her head and chuckles. That can't be it. Casper probably dozed off watching re-runs on the sofa. He spent the entire evening waiting up for her. Yep, that's exactly what happened.

Content with her analysis of the apparent lack of her husband's concern for her whereabouts, she does one more check of the hotel room. The last time she and Cain spent a few hours in a rented hideaway, she left behind a pair of diamond studs that Casper bought for her birthday. She touched her hand to her ears and found them bare in time to rush back upstairs to retrieve them.

Karma grabs her handbag. After she's checked its depths to ensure that she hasn't left anything for housekeeping to find, she saunters down the hallway to the elevators. She smiles at another woman dressed in a power suit walking in the opposite direction.

The woman gives her a knowing nod as they pass each other. Perhaps they're both stalking the halls of this luxury hotel for the same reason. And it ain't for the tiny hotel soaps and shampoos.

She informs the front desk that she'll be checking out early, and settles the balance on the room. This little habit of hers is getting expensive.

Cain can't leave a paper trail for his wife to find. Manali keeps a close eye on her husband's checking and savings accounts. Cain doesn't inspire the most trustworthy of feelings in her, with his evasive answers and long absences.

So Karma has to foot the bill for their rendezvous. She keeps a separate account in her maiden name away from Casper's eyes. As far as he knows, she barely buys a stick of gum every month. She does all her questionable spending on the hidden books.

If Casper really knew about all the dirt she does, their five-year marriage would have been over a long time ago.

She rushes to her car, checking over her shoulder the entire time. It's well after midnight, and she's a woman walking alone. Even if she hadn't insisted that she and Cain not be seen leaving together, she doubts he would have stayed to see that she made it safely to her vehicle.

Cain's number one priority is Cain. His second and third priorities also happen to be himself. He makes her look like a saint sometimes.

A light rain must have chosen to drench the city while she and Cain were indisposed. The few street lights reflect off the slick asphalt, making the dark streets glow like they've been scattered with copper pennies.

She speeds through the near-deserted streets watching corners and crannies for any overzealous state troopers looking to reach their monthly quota. The last thing she wants to do is answer that incriminating question, “Do you know why I stopped you, ma'am?”

It's near impossible for a person to answer that damn question without admitting that one was indeed speeding, or neglected to perform a full stop instead of the standard California roll at that stop sign. It's entrapment if you ask her.

Karma pulls into her driveway and is relieved to see that there doesn't appear to be any lights on in the house. She gets out of the car, and locks the sedan from the inside, then pushes the heavy metal door closed with her hip.

She glances around the sleepy cul-de-sac. Not a creature is stirring, save for an adulterous spouse.

Karma pulls off her heels, choosing to carry them in her hand as she makes her way up their front porch. She says a silent prayer that Casper forgot to set the security system, then pushes her key into the lock. The alarm control panel next to the door flashes the words “not armed” in neon green.

Good. The alarm won't be waking up half the neighborhood.

Karma tiptoes inside and presses the oak door into its frame once more with a feather-light touch. She waits with her head against the door, not breathing. As if creeping around like a church mouse will make her entrance at this ungodly hour any less disruptive.

She closes her eyes and makes a slow about-face, putting her back against the door. Karma takes a deep breath and prepares herself to dodge the creaky floorboards.

She opens her eyes. And just as she lifts her toes to make that first step, she sees Casper's imposing build staring right at her. Her breathing stops cold. A prickling sensation overtakes her body, as her lungs and other organs scream for air.

“What the fuck, Casper?!”

He's sitting in the dark with a vile expression on his face. His eyes look like they haven't rested in days. His tall frame is still dressed in his Armani slacks and Ralph Lauren shirt.

“What's his fucking name?”

She remembers Cain's words from their earlier phone conversation. Nothing to worry about ... He doesn't suspect a thing. Fuck, Cain.

He skipped out of that hotel room, knowing full well that Casper has caught their scent and is busy sniffing out their lying trail. She finds her composure and plasters on her best poker face. See what he knows first. Maybe she can talk her way out of his suspicion.

“Whose name?” she asks, placing her things down on the mirrored buffet in the foyer.

“The bloke you've been fucking.” He scratches at his goatee, then runs his hand over the dark hairs. “What is his name?”

talking about.” She approaches him and smooths over his wrinkled lapel with her

catches her hand in his and caresses the milk chocolate skin

“And my eyes are now wide

her free hand on her hip. “I was at

“Really?”

little too much attitude

his tone even. “Someone should have informed your boss then. Frome thinks you're at home nursing

“Casper ...”

reasons.” He holds up one of her fingers. “One, because you haven't been home for hours.” He raises another of her fingers and kisses it. “And

is soiling the armpits of her dress. She shifts her weight from foot to foot and avoids his gaze.

The stress of the Pollard case is starting to

hand. “We both know you thrive on that shit. The

her profession offers. It's a high stakes game for her. And she loves charging into the fray.

in the morning. When we've both had some time to think.” She

the slight force of her small frame and

time to think. That's all I can do when you disappear. I've done enough thinking to last a

tries another tactic. Karma takes a seat on his lap and cradles his face in her

lately.” She kisses his neck, then nibbles on his ear. “Let

a surprising amount of force. Karma loses her balance and hits the floor with a thud. She stares up at him, her

for a pity fuck. All I'm interested in at the moment is the motherfucker's name who I'm sharing your pussy with.” He glares down at her, making no move

vulgar language is something foreign to her. This isn't her husband. Casper would never even blow on her hard. And he's never referred to her in such

him. “He isn't important

And tell me his bloody

She shakes her

He chuckles, running his

wrinkles. “What are you talking

I both

don't understand,”

making it difficult for her to discern his words. But the language of anger is universal and transcends the barriers of any cultural

depths of her petrified lungs, rather than encounter the strained environment she's created for herself. How did this happen? They were always careful, or so she thought. How the

brother. But I assure

the great room. Karma remains frozen against the front door, staring after his tensed form. She holds her

minute later, Casper reappears with a portfolio full of Blu-ray discs and his laptop. He sits the items on the side table. Then he asks Karma to have a seat in the chair he just left. She doesn't

of five years, please have a seat.” His cool tone

right here.” She tries to shrink further into the

fuck

his face into something ugly, and not at all like his usual, handsome self.

takes slow steps to comply with his request. Once she's seated, he places the computer in her lap. The media player software has been launched, and a video is queued up. She notices the date in the bottom

as he flips through the catalog of discs. “You

He laughs to himself.

couple of pairs of Louboutins

time ago. Before we got married.

if she

finger against his temple. “Tools of a whore's trade started to appear. And I couldn't help but notice that I'd never been to these places, or seen these new toys.”

I'm done.” Karma takes the laptop in her hands and

closer to her, putting his lips as close to her ear as possible

sat for your shit for years. The least you can do is park your uppity ass for twenty minutes, while I get this

He's practically snarling.

parks her uppity ass in the chair again. Whoever this man is, he isn't going to let her play

washes over her, ramping her physiological responses into high gear. She's trembling, sweating and tears are

“Cash, listen to me.”

He shakes his head. “We haven't been friends for a long time. And I thought I made myself clear that I'm not equipped to do any listening right now. Not to you, anyway.” He leans down to her level. “Unless you

remains silent and stares straight

Then you got bold. Stopped coming home at all. So I needed to know for sure. I had a few

from the back of the portfolio

were sleeping with someone else—some nameless, faceless stranger. Of course,

view. The very same spot where this confrontation is