tagLoving WivesCatfishing in New York

Catfishing in New York

byCharles_Bovary©

Sam knew who was standing at her office door without looking. She beckoned while still staring at her computer screen. "This better be important, Willow. I'm working on a big project."

The slim young woman slipped into the office and stood patiently beside Samantha's desk until her boss deigned to look at her. After another minute, Sam pushed away from her keyboard and leaned back in her plush office swivel chair, her expression a mixture of impatience and fondness for her assistant.

"She's like an extension of me," Sam thought, staring at the woman she had known since college. They had roomed together back then, and had gotten along so well that they continued to share an apartment after graduation. She'd probably still be living with me if I hadn't found Mac.

Sam had met Mac McGraw two years after graduation, and had immediately decided he going to be her husband. In addition to being handsome and hard-working, Mac was considered by everyone who knew him as a genuinely good person.

It hadn't taken long for the young man to fall hard for the attractive, ambitious Samantha, and after he proposed, Sam had left her long-time girlfriend to move in with Mac. But Willow hadn't been left behind. The three of them continued to socialize together so much that some of Mac's friends kidded him that he'd gotten two women for the price of one.

It wasn't just socially that Sam and Willow remained close. When Sam landed a promising opportunity with a major public relations agency in New York City, she promptly brought Willow along as her assistant. Her offer wasn't charity: Willow was intelligent, diligent and, best of all, loyal to Sam to a fault. As Sam had moved up in the organizational hierarchy, Willow had moved right along with her.

Now Sam smiled to herself. There were those in the agency who disparagingly referred to Willow as Sam's minion. But Sam relied on her heavily, even if she did impose on her friend's loyalty from time to time.

"Uh, Sam . . ." Willow cleared her throat.

"Oh, sorry, Willow, I was thinking about my project. What have you got for me?"

Now her young assistant looked extremely uneasy. "I'm sorry, Sam, I just think you need to take a look at this." With that, she handed Sam her smartphone and pointed to an icon that was unfamiliar to Sam.

"What's this?"

Willow shifted uncomfortably. "It's called iRendezvous. It's a new match-up service that's gotten a lot of hype in the media lately."

Sam raised her eyebrows. "What are you doing with a hook-up app? You never date anybody."

"Well, that doesn't mean I wouldn't if the right guy came along."

"So you've never actually used it?"

"I've used it. I mean, I put my profile on there and looked at the profiles of the guys who responded, but I haven't gone out with any of them yet."

Seeing her boss's smirk, Willow hurried on, "Actually, I think most of the guys on here are married men, and I'd never go out with one of them. And anyway, some of them could be psychos. Haven't you read about all those women who've gone missing?"

Sam shook her head in amusement. "You've been watching too much true crime television." Then she cocked her head knowingly. "Don't try to kid me, Willow. The real reason you won't go out with other guys is because you've had a crush on my husband ever since you met him!"

Willow blushed. "No, that's not true. And anyway, Mac has no interest in me."

"Don't be too sure about that. One time when he'd had a little too much to drink, he told me that if I hadn't snatched him up he'd have tried to date you."

Willow blushed again. "You're just teasing me, Sam. Mac never said that. And besides, even if that was true, I'd never do anything to hurt you."

Sam decided that she'd given her friend a hard time long enough. Pointing at the icon, she asked, "So why did you want me to look at this?"

At that, Willow's face fell. "Oh, Sam, I got a new contact today. I think you need to look at it." Taking back her smartphone, she clicked the icon and logged in to iRendezvous. When it connected, she touched the screen one more time and then handed the phone to Sam.

What her friend saw was a profile of the man who wanted to meet Willow. There was no photograph, only a brief description, along with some background on the man and his likes and dislikes.

Sam glanced at it and then looked up at Willow in puzzlement. "This doesn't tell me very much. Why would I want to meet somebody I can't even see?"

"Well, that's kind of the appeal. It's all a bit mysterious, kind of like a blind date but you already know you're compatible. Or at least iRendezvous thinks you are. The whole computer dating thing has gotten to be such a cliché that the element of surprise is what makes this new service appealing."

"Okay, if you say so. But what's so special about this guy?"

"Read the profile more closely."

Her brows furrowed, Sam re-read the profile. "I still don't get it. This could be anybody."

"Look at his description, look at the college, look at where he works."

"Honestly, he sounds just like . . . Oh my God, it sounds like Mac! The description sounds just like him, he went to the same college, and he works in the futures market, just like Mac!"

Sadly, Willow reached over and scrolled the page back up. "Look at his screen name."

Sam gasped. "'Mr. Nice Guy' -- that's what everyone calls Mac!"

Willow looked ready to cry. "I'm sorry, Sam, I'm really sorry. I was so shocked when I saw this that I felt I just had to show it to you."

Sam looked up at her friend with fury in her eyes. "I will not stand for this. If Mac is cheating on me, I'll have his balls!"

"I know it looks suspicious, Sam, but I just can't believe Mac would cheat on you. He's crazy about you -- I know it. Don't do anything irreversible, at least not until you've got more information. This could all be just one of those crazy coincidences."

Sam took a deep breath to get herself under control. "You're right, Willow. I won't make any accusations until I know more. But I promise you I'm not going to let this drop. No one cheats on me and gets away with it."

Sam was still simmering when she went home that evening, but she kept her emotions well hidden from her husband. As they had dinner and relaxed afterwards, she listened carefully for any false notes in his conversation, but he seemed completely normal in every way. "Either he's innocent or my Mr. Nice Guy is one very smooth character. I thought I knew him so well, but now I'm not so sure."

She decided that the first step she needed to take was to check his phone, but she couldn't figure out a way to do so. Mac normally kept his smartphone in his pocket at all times. And even if she could get it, Sam knew that his screen was passcoded with a number she didn't have.

For most of the evening she was stymied, but an opportunity presented itself as they were getting ready for bed. He was brushing his teeth when he called out to her, "What's the weather forecast for tomorrow? Are we going to get rain?"

Instantly she knew what to do. "My phone's in my purse in the living room. Let me check yours -- what's the passcode?"

He gave it to her and she snatched his iPhone up from the dresser. "Looks like there's a 60% chance of rain," she yelled to him, while frantically scrolling through his apps. When she saw the now-familiar iRendezvous app, her heart skipped a beat. But before she could open it to check his activity, she heard him coming out of the bathroom. Hurriedly, she put it down on his nightstand and then turned off the lamp so he wouldn't see how pale her face had grown.

He was soon asleep, but she lay awake for a long time, angrily tossing and turning.

- - - - - - - - - -


When Samantha walked into her office the next morning, Willow was waiting for her. One look at her boss's face and the young woman ran to throw her arms around her friend's shoulders. "Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry. Tell me what happened."

After Sam recounted what she'd found, Willow was downcast. But then a look of hope filled her eyes. "Just finding the app doesn't prove he's cheating on you. I still can't believe Mac would be unfaithful. There's got to be some other explanation."

"I doubt it," Sam snapped, 'it's too much of a coincidence. But I've figured out a way to catch him red-handed, so there won't be any doubt." When Willow looked at her expectantly, Sam pronounced triumphantly, "I'm going to go catfishing!"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"You know: catfishing. That's what they call it when you make up a fake online persona to snag somebody. I'm going to join iRendezvous and construct an identity that's sure to attract Mac. If he bites like I think he will, I'll set up a meeting, and when he shows up there'll be no way he can lie his way out of it."

"Wow, I guess that would work, but it seems pretty sneaky."

"Exactly. Now, show me how to sign up for the service and then give me some time to put a profile together that's sure to reel him in."

An hour later Sam summoned Willow back to her office and handed her a sheet of paper. "Here's what I've come up with. You know Mac well -- do you think he'll be attracted?"

Willow glanced at the profile. "'Ms. Unforgettable'? You're calling yourself that?"

Sam grinned wolfishly. "If I catch Mac this way, I guarantee you he'll never forget what's going to happen to him."

Shaking her head, Willow looked at the paper again. "'Married but not dead? 'Looking for adventure, not a relationship'?" She looked at her boss. "You're really pouring it on thick."

"I know. It's perfect."

"Hey, this says you're 24 years old. You're 34, same as me."

Sam shook her head at her assistant. "Everybody lies on these things. Besides, I look at least 10 years younger anyway."

"Well, if Mac really is looking for a no-strings affair with a bored wife, this ought to attract him." She shook her head sadly as she headed for the door. "I just hope it doesn't."

On her way back from lunch, Willow stopped at Samantha's office door. "Well, did you do it? Have you gotten any bites?"

Sam rolled her eyes in disgust. "Oh, yeah, I've gotten a ton of responses. But they're all from creepy sounding guys I wouldn't touch with a 10-foot pole. Not even a nibble from Mr. Nice Guy."

"That's what you want, isn't it?"

"Not if it doesn't get me any closer to finding out about Mac. But honestly, I'm beginning to have my doubts about this little scheme."

But three hours later, Willow looked up to see Sam leaning against the wall of her cubicle with a big grin on her face. "I've got him! Mr. Nice Guy just took my bait. We're going to meet for drinks after work tomorrow."

A look of sadness mixed with concern darkened Willow's normally cheerful features. "I still can't believe Mac would do that," she said, more to herself than to Sam. Then she looked up at her boss. "If it really is Mac, are you going to be OK?"

"Don't worry about me, gal, worry about Mac! He's the one who'll be in a world of hurt when he realizes I know everything."

As Sam rode home to their apartment that evening, she had a hard time controlling her rapidly changing emotions. Initially she was excited about bringing her catfishing expedition to s successful conclusion. However, her glee soon dissolved into nervousness as she thought about having to deal with Mac that evening. But the thought of him cheating on her stoked the fire of her anger, and she grimly told herself to be strong and to act normally. "I have to act normally just one more day. I can do this."

When she walked in the apartment door, Mac greeted her warmly with a kiss. She bravely smiled and returned it, hiding her vengeful thoughts behind a façade of normalcy. Indeed, everything about their evening went normally, but as they were getting ready for bed, she couldn't resist probing a little. "Oh, Mac, I forgot to mentions I'm going to be a little late getting home tomorrow. I've got a meeting with a client after work."

"Okay, babe, no problem."

"What about you: have you got any plans?"

"Nope, just the same old same-old."

She nodded, but when the lights were out, she lay there cursing to herself at his ability to lie so easily.

- - - - - - - - - -


The next morning, Willow was surprised to see her boss dressed in an outfit more suitable for a nightclub than the office. The low-cut neckline was so revealing that it seemed to Willow totally inappropriate for a business environment.

In response to her assistant's raised eyebrows, Samantha laughed nastily. "I want Mac to get a good look at what he's going to be missing!"

As the day hurried on, Willow grew more and more uneasy about the upcoming confrontation. Just before she was ready to leave for home, she stopped by Sam's office. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Absolutely! I can't wait to see the look on Mac's face when he realizes he's been caught."

"Would you like me to go with you, you know, for moral support?"

Sam laughed. "No, I think I can handle this without you."

Just a few minutes before 6:30, Sam strolled into Massimo's, the lounge where she and Mr. Nice Guy had agreed to meet. The place wasn't too busy and it took little time for her to scan the room and determine that Mac hadn't arrived yet. She took a table near the back and ordered a Manhattan from the waitress to calm her nerves.

She'd almost finished her drink when a male voice from behind startled her. "You really do fit your name: you truly are unforgettable." She spun around to find a tall, slim man she'd never met before. His hair was dark, almost black, and curly; his face was well-shaped and covered by a short, stylish beard. She stared speechlessly at him. He's the handsomest man I've ever met in my life!

"I'm sorry if I startled you," the man said in his deep baritone voice. Pulling up a chair on the other side of her table, he took a seat just as the waitress returned. "Are you having a Manhattan?" he asked her, and when she nodded, he told the waitress, "A refill for the lady, and I'll have one too."

He raised one eyebrow and gave her an inquisitive smile. Suddenly, she realized that she still hadn't spoken. "Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized. "It's just that you're not who I was expecting."

Now his smile broadened. "I feel the same way: you're much lovelier than I expected."

She blushed and smiled gratefully at his compliment. As the waitress brought their drinks, he began to make pleasant, easy conversation. He had a natural, self-deprecating sense of humor that quickly put her at ease. "I have a confession to make," he said, leaning toward her. "I lied on my profile: I'm actually 8 years older than I said. Seeing how young you are, I hope that doesn't put you off."

"Oh, no, not at all. Actually, I like older men," she replied, deciding not to correct his mis-estimate of her actual age.

"I haven't done this very much," he confided a little later. "I'm recently divorced and just starting to get back into the social scene. But enough about me, tell me about yourself." With that he began to ask her about her life, and she found herself sharing more information than she would have normally.

As they chatted, he regaled her with stories about his travels and humorous experiences that both charmed and amused her. As she sat there listening to that deep voice and staring at his face, a thought flashed through her mind: This feels just like it did when I was single and dating! Immediately she scolded herself for such inappropriate thoughts, only to break into laughter at his next quip and forgetting herself again.

After a while he gave her an enticing smile and asked, "There's a restaurant nearby that's quite good. Would you like to have dinner with me?"

OMG, what time is it? She quickly glanced at her watch and was startled to see how late it had grown. "I really wish I could," she told him, "but I have to get home."

Reluctantly, she stood to leave, and he politely did so as well. Then he reached across the table and lifted her left hand to look at her wedding ring. "Your husband is a very lucky man," he smiled. Releasing it, he continued, "You know how to reach me. I would like nothing better than to see you again. But if it's not to be, this night will still be unforgettable to me." Then he stepped up to her, gave her a demure kiss on the lips and departed, leaving her stunned and blushing.

When Sam got home, Mac was waiting for her. "How was your meeting?" he asked.

"Oh, fine, just business."

Mac had kept a plate of dinner warm for her, and he sat with her and talked about his day as she ate. She seemed to him to be lost in thought, and he wondered if anything was wrong. But after they had loaded the dishwasher, she suddenly threw her arm around him and pulled him close. "Come on, husband," she panted, "I need you to take me to bed and screw the hell out of me!"

Mac grinned. "If washing the dishes does that to you, we're going to have the cleanest dishes in town!" With that, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to the bedroom, kissing her feverishly as they went.

Once there, she stripped off her clothes before he could help her, and when he was too slow removing his own, she attacked him and quickly finished the job. He started to kiss and caress her, but she shook her head impatiently. "No, don't. I need you inside me now!" With that she pulled him on top of her and urged him to take her as hard and as fast as possible. Yet although he complied with energy and enthusiasm, she found herself unable to reach a climax. She normally loved sex with Mac, but this time it seemed that everything he did felt so familiar, so predictable. Finally, when she recognized that Mac was almost there, she faked her own orgasm, driving him over the top. Afterwards, as he lay holding her, she felt a surge of discontentment. What the hell's wrong with me?

- - - - - - - - - -


The next morning, Willow was waiting in Sam's office when the latter arrived. "Well, what happened?" she asked apprehensively. "Was it Mac?"

Sam shook her head. "No, Willow, it wasn't him."

"Oh, thank God! I just knew he wouldn't do something like that."

Sam couldn't help but smile at Willow's obvious relief.

Once her pulse had returned to normal, Willow cocked her head in curiosity. "So what happened? It must have been awfully awkward and embarrassing for you."

Now Sam's smile grew even broader. "No, girl, it wasn't awkward at all. In fact, it turned out to be a delightful meeting."

Willow's confusion was obvious. "You mean you didn't leave right away?"

"No, I stayed there and had a couple of drinks with him."

"Why!"

"Well, to be honest with you, he was the handsomest man I've ever met. Not only that, but he turned out to be a fascinating conversationalist. He was witty and entertaining, and I enjoyed our time together thoroughly."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. I haven't enjoyed myself like that in a long time."

"Wait a minute, Sam, you were trying to catch your husband cheating. You don't need to start anything yourself."

Sam shook her head self-righteously. "Of course not! I'd never do anything like that. It was just one of those serendipitous events that worked out well for both of us. Nothing is going to happen."

"Well, I would hope not." With that, Willow headed back to her cubicle to catch up on her work.

Sam began to read her email, but she found herself getting distracted thinking about Mr. Nice Guy. Even after she resumed working on the publicity campaign she'd been developing, she kept recalling details of their conversation and the way he laughed while telling one of his charming stories.

Later, after a light lunch at her desk, she found it almost impossible to direct her mind back to work. She sat there shifting uncomfortably in her chair, and was startled to realize that she was aroused. I haven't felt like this in ages.

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byCharles_Bovary© 37 comments/ 18420 views/ 13 favorites

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