The Dangers of Getting Way Too Involved with a Wealthy Older Man…And His Wife: Part 1

TheDangers_Pt1The gala in Chicago that I attended with Mr. Brown—my rich, older man who was also my boss—was wrap­ping up and it was time to leave. Get­ting ready to go back home made my heart sink a lit­tle. I had such a good week­end and wanted to spend more time with my older man. But I knew that my two daugh­ters would be wait­ing for me to get home—the three days away had felt like a life­time apart from my kids.

As I packed my bags for the air­port, I decided to quickly plug in my lap­top to check my work e-mails and to catch up on any­thing I missed on my social net­work­ing pages. I sifted through Face­book while wait­ing for my e-mails to load. There were a num­ber of spam mes­sages, a few meet­ing reminders, and then I saw it pop up on my screen—an e-mail from Mrs. Brown. I knew this couldn’t be good. Why would she be e-mailing me, her husband’s assis­tant, instead of con­nect­ing with him directly? I clicked on it with bated breath, wait­ing to see what it said.

I scrolled down to the body of the e-mail and read it slowly. Mrs. Brown wanted to talk to me about Mr. Brown. She said she believed he was up to his old tricks again and that he was pos­si­bly mess­ing around on her. She asked that I meet her at a local bistro on Tues­day after­noon. She knew I was in Chicago with him—did she sus­pect me? Had she caught on about our secret affair? But as I kept read­ing through the e-mail, I real­ized that it sounded more like she wanted me to be her ally. She asked if there was any­thing sus­pi­cious going on in Chicago and if I hap­pened to see him with any­one that I didn’t rec­og­nize. She ended the e-mail with her con­tact infor­ma­tion so that I could get back to her if I noticed any­thing before our lunch.

I had no idea what to do, so I decided to just leave it alone and instead focused on get­ting my lug­gage ready before head­ing to the air­port. I met Mr. Brown and the limo dri­ver in the lobby of the hotel—the same lobby where less than 24 hours ago I had been look­ing like a Hol­ly­wood star­let. I let the mem­o­ries play in my mind, but was snapped back to real­ity when I remem­bered Mrs. Brown’s e-mail.

The ride to the air­port was awk­ward and silent for most of the way. Easter was com­ing up and Mr. Brown asked if my daugh­ters and I had any plans. The com­pany spon­sored an Easter egg hunt and he wanted to use that as an oppor­tu­nity to meet them again. He also told me to make sure our spon­sors were secure and that the fund­ing was already in place. I nod­ded, and blankly stared ahead.

He asked what was wrong and I just told him that I was tired. He smiled, prob­a­bly assum­ing that I was refer­ring to our sex­ual encounter last night, but I was really just hid­ing my dis­com­fort. The flight home seemed quick, since I slept most of the way, but when we landed I told Mr. Brown I needed a few days off to recoup. He under­stood and said that I could have until Wednes­day to recu­per­ate, but he needed me back before the week­end to fin­ish up cases from the Chicago trip. We smiled and parted ways.

I was still pretty curi­ous about what to expect from my meet­ing with Mrs. Brown, but I knew I had a few days to spend with my daugh­ters and pre­pare for what was sure to be an inter­est­ing lunch date with my lover’s wife…