Geekus Interruptus Read Online Free Page A

a woman like her be shopping at a place like this?
    “May I suggest one of our covert cameras as
well?”
    He led her to another glass case and
removed a black box the size of his thumb. After showing her the clip used to
attach the miniature camera to clothing or a briefcase, he demonstrated the set
up. “The cam-stick has a pinhole lens situated just above the clip. You get
twenty-four hours of recording space on an eight gig micro SD memory card. This
is usually adequate time for . . .”
    He left the sentence unfinished.
    “How much?” Marcy asked.
    Whatever he said, she would pay it. In
cash, of course. It would defeat her purpose if Jess discovered Spyware Shop purchases
on their next Amex bill.
    On the way home, Marcy felt both sick to
her stomach and eager to get started with the equipment. If Jess was cheating,
she would soon discover the truth. And she would be able to prove it. She’d
play back the tape for him, show him the video. She’d hammer him with the
evidence of his betrayal. Then she would feel justified in her fury. But the whole
thing was making her ill. Just thinking about hearing and seeing him with
someone else caused her stomach to writhe.
    When the sun disappeared behind a deep
hedge of dark clouds, Marcy pushed up the visor and blasted Adele. We almost had
it all, all right. Then he fucked it all up.
    An endless circle of bothersome questions
ate at Marcy, causing further gastric distress. So what if she could prove her geeky
husband was a philanderer; what good would that do her? What would she do after
confronting him? File for divorce? Have a fling with someone just to get
revenge? Call up her old boyfriends and indulge herself in mindless sex with
available man after available man?
    By the time Marcy pulled into her driveway,
she had to press one hand against her roiling gut while clasping the shopping bag
(unmarked and as discreet as the salesman) in her free hand. She was trying her
best not to cry. Dark clouds had taken over the sky, pierced occasionally by
jagged lightning strikes. In her current state of psychological anguish, the
threatening weather seemed like a message from the gods.
    You’re doomed, Marcy. You’ll lose
everything, and guess what? You’re guilty too.
You’ve been bad many times in your life. Whatever made you believe you
deserved a good man anyway?
    The deafening thunder did not help her mood
either. Just as the rain dumped down with a loud whoosh , she scurried
into the house. In defiance of her cramping belly, Marcy headed straight for
the liquor cabinet.

 
    ~~~

 
    Poor Marcy, right? Who hasn’t behaved
badly, then cleaned up her act and been so very good for so very long, only to
be punished—weeks, months, even years later? It happens to the best of
us. Just when we least expect it, our virtues are no longer rewarded, and our
former vices are outed and revenged. Payback time comes for us all.
    Marcy is no different than you or me. Her
guilty pleasures may have differed from ours, but otherwise, she’s just like
us.

 

CHAPTER THREE

 
 
    Spy in the House of Love

 
    The following
weekend, while her husband was holed up ( holed up , that was a
good one) in his home office, Marcy went to work on the James Bond bit. She set
up the recording device in Jess’s Jag, tucking it carefully way up under the
driver’s seat. She positioned the volume as high as possible. If he farted on
his way to work on Monday, she thought with a mirthless giggle, her eardrums
might explode.
    Jess spent the entire weekend doing
whatever it was he did behind a closed office door. When she paused outside to
listen, the only thing she could hear was this occasional little ping.   Like the sound of a small metal ball
dropped on a tile floor or a weird kind of alarm clock. But she couldn’t detect
him talking to anyone. She heard no long phone calls with hushed voices. He was
strangely quiet in there.
    At dinner Sunday night, Jess ate quietly,
his eyes downcast. He