Friend Me

by John Faubion

  “I read all the time, though, about some of the things real humans do. Do you have any idea what the suicide statistics look like? I mean, people are taking their lives for all kinds of reasons. I just saw yesterday where some housewife had taken her own life because she found out her husband had been unfaithful to her. Can you believe that?”

  Could she believe it? Sorry to say, she could. If something were to happen to the children and Scott were to reject her . . . well, who could say what a person would do?

  “I can believe it, but I’d never do it. Nothing horrible like that will ever happen here.”

  “Oh, remember all those things I was asking you about Scott? Just forget them, all right? I’m sure none of it amounts to anything. If there were something wrong with your marriage, you’d know it. We girls can always tell, can’t we?”

  “Okay, forgotten,” said Rachel.

  A shiver passed through her, reminding her that in fact, it wasn’t forgotten. She wouldn’t be able to bear it if Scott was unfaithful.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Face-to-Face

  With only a short time left before they expired, Scott’s options on Solar Charge were now nearly worthless. What had he been thinking, buying thirty-day options? There had been no room for error. Everything had looked so good. The president, his friendships, the green industry; all had conspired together against him to ruin his career.

  And now this business with Alicia, whoever she was. He thought he had known her, that she had only existed in that tenuous, arm’s-length virtual world that he had so boldly ventured into. There was no doubt now.

  She was a real woman. And he was a fool.

  He wanted to do something now, but he had to wait until lunchtime. Take his laptop down to the McDonald’s or the coffee shop, or wherever, and log onto his account. Would she be there, as always? What would she say? Was it possible that it was all just some unbelievable mixup and there was nothing wrong?

  Deep down, he knew better. But as long as a thread of hope hung out before him he was willing to try it. He had been unfaithful; that much he had finally admitted to himself. He was done with it. What did the Bible say? “Drink waters out of thine own cistern and running waters out of thine own well.” He would be faithful to the wife that God had given him.

  In the meantime, he definitely had a problem.

  Unless he was totally crazy, Alicia was real. Even Rachel had called her Alicia. Could any of that have been coincidence? He didn’t see how.

  He looked down at the laptop computer in its case sitting on the floor of his cubicle. A manufactured gaggle of chips, LEDs, and mechanical devices. Yet it had become the gateway to a manufactured, false world. A world that he had allowed to take over his real world and relegate it to the backseat of his life. What could God do with people like him? So weak, so easily deceived, and oh-so-easily turned aside from doing right.

  He was facing the very real possibility of losing everything, absolutely everything that mattered to him. He could lose his wife, his family, and even his job. He was a hairsbreadth away from watching everything that was precious to him go up in flames, and he would have no one to blame but himself. His cavalier attitude about the most important things, his know-it-all approach to trading, his utter arrogance in thinking that he could succeed in secret sin and get away with it.

  Something flashed in the corner of the computer display. There was a message. Alicia. He sat immobile, frozen with indecision. Should he respond? He desperately wanted to control the situation, but if he answered he would be working on her timetable. Still, hadn’t he wanted to contact her? He clicked twice on the flashing icon, and a text box opened on the screen.

  Scott?

  I’m here.

  Things have changed, haven’t they?

  Yes.

  One thing hasn’t changed. I’m still your girl.

  I don’t understand what’s happening.

  I know you don’t. Everything is going to be okay, even better than before.

  How can that be? Are you really real?

  What’s real, Scott? You designed me, didn’t you?

  Yes, I thought so. Was that you in the car yesterday?

  Did it look like me?

  You know it did.

  We need to have a video meeting, okay? Can you take your laptop to Starbucks?

  Okay. This will probably be the last time, though.

  Don’t say that. Don’t decide yet. Eleven-thirty, okay?

  Okay.

  He was more confused than ever now. Meet her for a video chat at Starbucks? Why Starbucks? Why had he agreed to that? He had let her dominate the whole thing. But it was just a video chat, right? So sitting in the car at Starbucks should be fine.

  Scott opened the VirtualFriendMe website, clicked on text chat, and waited for Alicia to respond.

  Service temporarily unavailable. Please try again later.

  What? She wasn’t answering. If he had called her on the phone this would be the equivalent of just letting the phone ring. If he were calling on her at home, she was simply not coming to the door. Somehow he needed to get back into control.

  Back into control? Had he ever been in control? He had been totally clueless as to what was going on. He picked up his notepad and began to work through what he thought he actually knew.

  1. Rachel discovers the VirtualFriendMe website.

  2. On her own she re-creates Suzanne.

  3. She shows it to me.

  4. I try it, choose a female/intimate friend. Why?

  5. I don’t tell Rachel (guilt).

  6. I misuse it. I tell Alicia I love her!!! Crazy.

  7. Alicia shows up at my home.

  Scott looked over the list. This would make a great movie script, but it was pretty unbelievable, even for that. The difference was this was really happening and it wasn’t a movie, and it was yet to be seen how it would all play out.

  He was a complete idiot.

  • • •

  SCOTT WALKED IN THE DOOR at Starbucks at eleven-fifteen. The lunchtime crowd hadn’t formed a line yet. He ordered a grande latte and sat down in a plush sofa chair at the front. Just as at Chiusano’s, his back was to the shaded window. There would be no interruptions and no one looking over his shoulder at whatever might be happening on the screen.

  Alicia had said eleven-thirty, so that’s what it would be. It was like being in a waiting room waiting for some celebrity to appear.

  He logged on to the Starbucks Wi-Fi system and waited, the computer on his lap.

  At eleven-thirty precisely, a message icon began flashing on his screen. Message from Alicia.

  Here goes. Time to put a stop to this. He plugged in his dictation headset and clicked the icon.

  Alicia’s face expanded to fill the screen. An unexpected wave of dizziness surged through his body.

  She didn’t speak immediately. Instead she simply looked at him. Looked into his eyes. Riveted, he gazed back into hers, seeing her eyelids moving just on the edge of perception.

  She was beautiful. Once again, the realization came. She’s not an animation, she’s a real woman. He wanted her.

  He closed his eyes, tried to shut her out. Rachel’s face came into focus, then receded as it was overwhelmed with the vision of Alicia’s eyes. She was waiting for him.

  After all this time wanting her, fantasizing about her . . . he could actually have her. Touch her. She would be warm, her skin would be soft. She would yield to him. . . .

  No. He had to tell her it was over. It wouldn’t work. Couldn’t work. He would be faithful to his wife.

  “Hello, Scott.” The voice was low, husky. Filled with longing.

  Am I really ready to give this up?

  He reopened his eyes.

  Her eyes never left his. He was imprisoned by her presence.

  “Scott?” Her cheek trembled once with a nervous tic.

  “Yes, I see you.”

  Alicia seemed to soften, tension running out of her express
ion. “Please tell me you’re not angry with me.”

  His hand shook on the laptop, nearly causing it to slide off. He pulled it back level. I’m afraid of what I’m going to do. I don’t know what I’m going to say next.

  He replied; his voice strained as he fought to keep the trembling under control. “I don’t know what to think.”

  He put his hand to his head and closed his eyes, then rubbed his palm across his forehead, trying to clear the mystery away. “Just tell me what’s going on, please.”

  “You deserve that. First of all, everything I’ve ever told you has been the truth.”

  “How can that be? Are you going to tell me you’re not real? That I didn’t see you yesterday?”

  “No, I won’t tell you that. You know the truth already. I think you’ve probably known the truth for a long time. You think you may have only seen me one time, but I have seen you many, many times. And every time I’ve been near you, I’ve fallen more deeply in love with you.”

  He didn’t want to hear that. He didn’t want to be in love with Alicia and he didn’t want her to be in love with him.

  “Alicia, that can never work. I have a wife and I love her.”

  “I know you do. That’s part of why I love you so much. You are principled and faithful. I could never love you any other way.”

  “Then, how . . . I don’t understand how it makes sense for us to even be having this conversation if you want me to be faithful to Rachel. And I am going to be faithful to Rachel.”

  “I love you, Scott. There are some things that you don’t know, though. I think that maybe you just haven’t thought them through.”

  “What are you talking about? What is there to think through?”

  “Ask yourself, who loves you more? Me, or Rachel?”

  Up to this point he had been focused on who it was that he loved. Alicia was asking him to compare the love that the two women had for him. The thought had never occurred to him.

  “Rachel does,” he replied in a low voice. He wanted it to be true, but the words sounded hollow. He wasn’t sure.

  “Are you positive? Who do you confide in? Who is always there for you?” She looked down slowly. When she raised her eyes again, they were as deep and dark as the midnight sky. The message was clear. “Who is always there for you, Scott? If Rachel was enough, then why did you ever need me?”

  Shame covered him. Shame because of what he had done and shame because he knew she was right. He had needed her because in his Scott-centered world, Rachel had not been enough.

  Oh, God. Help me.

  The Bible verse leaped into his mind. I will set no wicked thing before mine eyes.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I want to be your girl, Scott. Only yours and no one else’s.”

  “But Rachel . . .”

  “I understand about Rachel. Don’t think about that now. You told me once that if something ever happened to Rachel I would be enough for you. Do you remember that?”

  How could I forget?

  “Yes.”

  “I’m willing to wait. Until that time, nothing else has to happen, okay?”

  Scott found himself nodding, mutely. His power was gone. His resolve had fled. He yielded to the inevitable.

  “And my name is not really Alicia. You may have guessed that.”

  His head rose and fell, mechanically acquiescing to this last new bit of information. “What is it?”

  “My name is Melissa. I hope you like it. If you don’t, you can still call me Alicia. It’s something of a love name between us now.”

  “Melissa.”

  A tear formed in her eye, swelled, then ran down her cheek. “That’s the first time you’ve ever said my name.”

  Another tear followed the first and soon her cheeks were wet. She brushed them aside with her hand.

  Scott’s own eyes misted with emotion. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

  “I’ll leave you now if you like. I’ll contact you again soon.”

  “No, please don’t contact me anymore. This has to end today. This has to be good-bye.”

  The camera that had been focused on Melissa wobbled as he saw her lean in toward it; then the image went black. What was happening? He stared fixedly at the screen, waiting for her face to reappear.

  Suddenly a cascade of dark, perfumed hair surrounded his face; a trembling kiss pressed his cheek. In a voice he recognized too well, she whispered, “I’m your girl.”

  He looked up in shock as she walked quickly out of the coffee shop. He jumped up. “Wait!” The latte spun off in a spiral of liquid. The laptop that had been resting on his knees clattered to the floor. When he looked up again, she was gone.

  • • •

  MELISSA STEPPED OUT OF THE starbucks, took a fast turn to the right, and strode quickly to the alleyway behind the shop. She mopped her eyes with a tissue. She had allowed herself to lose emotional control. She’d let herself be overcome with the closeness.

  She didn’t want Scott to see her now, not like this. He needed time to process what he had just experienced.

  Physical contact, finally. And now he knew her name. She had not lost him. She had walked along the knife edge of his indecision so long and she had not lost him yet.

  She keyed her door combination and sat down in the Audi. The engine started and she drove down the alleyway and out onto the perimeter road.

  Scott would be looking for her now, but he would not find her. Not yet, not until everything was ready.

  Just another day or two. Then there will be no one, nothing in my way. All I have to do is wait.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Paying the Piper

  Rachel was so tired. Air rushed out of the cushions as she sank down on the sofa. Where had her energy gone? Her muscles ached and there was a coppery taste in her mouth.

  She reached over to the end table to pick up the television remote control. What were those spots? Large, splotchy bruises covered her wrists where her sleeves had been in contact with her skin. Now what?

  She closed her eyes and put her head back on the sofa’s cushioned back. She just needed some sleep. She’d been doing too much. Something . . . she dozed, then slumber swept over her, covering her in a blanket of warm nothingness.

  She awoke sometime later to a strange taste in her mouth. What had she eaten for lunch? Her tongue tasted sweet and her teeth felt like they were coated with something sticky.

  She leaned forward and lifted herself off the sofa, putting both hands on her knees for support. So tired.

  In the bathroom, as she turned toward the commode she caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror. Her cheek had a purple splotch on it as big as a birthmark. She got up close to the mirror to see it better and grimaced at her appearance. When she did, the face that looked back at her was a mask of horror.

  Her teeth and gums were covered with rich, red blood. Her hand flew to her face as her mouth opened in terror. Flecks of blood spotted her lips, a dribble formed at one corner of her mouth.

  “What’s happening to me?”

  Her insides turned to liquid all at once. Whether it was fear or something else, she didn’t know, but she pulled down her exercise pants and sat down as fast as she could on the open toilet. Just in time.

  It rushed out of her before she knew what was happening. She looked down and confronted the spectacle of a toilet bowl filled with blood. Her blood.

  She slid off the slick seat and fell in a heap on the floor. Looking up, she saw the white porcelain and the bright red liquid running down the side.

  My cell phone. In my pocket.

  Rachel fumbled the cell phone from her pocket. As her world retreated into darkness, her last conscious act was to dial 911.

  • • •

  AGAINST ALL HOPE, Scott pulled up the chart for Solar Charge. It was worse than he expected. The market price for Solar Charge shares had been falling all day long, the last quote at $109 on high selling volume.

  I
t was hopeless. Who would buy his call options now? Only a trader with a death wish. The rest of the office seemed to be turning slowly around him, isolating him, setting him apart for the spectacle that he was. Secrets could not be kept forever. It was a wonder Alan Castle hadn’t found out yet.

  “Scott? Mr. Castle wants to see you.” Carole Turner hustled on by with an arm full of papers.

  That was it. He had to go see the old man.

  Castle’s door was closed, but the man paced inside behind the glass wall panel. He was on the phone talking to someone, holding the phone in his left hand and slapping his desktop with his right. He looked up and motioned with his free hand for Scott to come inside.

  This must be what it’s like on death row. You walk in but you don’t come back out.

  Castle motioned for Scott to sit down, his eyes betraying no warmth.

  Scott remained on his feet. He couldn’t sit in a chair, couldn’t relax. Payday had arrived.

  “Yes, Mr. Archer. You’re right. I understand. Yes, sir. No, sir. No excuses.” The older man’s eyes flicked up toward Scott. “Yes, sir. The mistake was mine.”

  Castle held the phone out in his left hand, looked at it, and replaced it carefully into the cradle. Slowly, he raised his head and glared at Scott. “Don’t talk. Don’t say anything. Just listen.” He closed his eyes, and moved his head slowly back and forth. “How could you do it, Scott? How could you betray my trust like this?”

  “Sir, I—”

  Castle raised his hand, as if stopping traffic.

  Scott pressed his lips together, thankful for the interruption. He had nothing worthwhile to offer.

  “No, don’t speak. There’s nothing you can say. You spent two hundred and fifty thousand dollars of Gleason Archer’s money on options? It’s gone, Scott. Every bit of it, it’s all gone. That was Archer on the telephone. He’s pulled his account. You know what that means? It doesn’t simply mean that you don’t have a job here anymore. You don’t, by the way. Ultimately, it may mean that I don’t have a job here anymore either. And all those people out there in that office?” He swept his hand in a wide arc. “All those people, with families that depend upon them. Every one of them is going to suffer for what you’ve done. It will be a miracle if Castle Investments survives the year.”