Mary could not believe it. She could not freaking believe it!
There he was, that fat, old, balding creap with the port-wine birthmark down the side of his face. His bad suit, his slow, watery and stupid-looking eyes staring up out of carpet-bag eyelids. His glasses were fog-smeared by fat, greasy fingerprints and his shirt--covered in french-fry greese, Mary imagined--was unbottoned down to the middle of his stomach. One of his garish ties was shifted over to the side. A large expance of white blubber with a few islands of silver hair bulged out over his belt.
And there was a woman. Not Mary. A slim, aging beauty with silver-brown hair, deep, knife-like blue eyes outlined in pencil by a steady, practiced hand. A delicate cupid's bow of a mouth, painted in a shade of mauve that accentuated, but did not scream. Her cheeks were still full, if a bit sagged by age, a bit damaged by the sun. And her hands, while crete-paper thin from age, were slim and tipped with nails as red as embers, in the middle of running down that fat chest. Her dress was still on, but it was unzipped down past her hips, exposing a toned back under aged skin.
And she was not Mary. And all Mary could think about for a few minutes--while people screamed in terror in the other room--was the fact that this woman was Not Mary.
"What the hell are you doing in here, Banker?" the boss said. Mary glanced down at his little name plate. Harry Carstars, Executive, it read. She looked up into his eyes.
"I thought you wanted to sleep with me today." She said, and she looked directly at the woman.
Who turned three shades of puce in slow, agonising sucession. She turned on Harry, one red-nailed hand curled like a claw and coming down on his face with striking speed.
"You...you...HARRY! HOW COULD YOU!!!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, and didn't really notice that Mary had stepped in front of the door.
She ought to have known...Harry Carstars had a wife. And it never really occored to Mary that she shouldn't have cared that Harry Carstars had a wife. The betrayl was enough.
So what should she do about it?