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Monday September 11th, 2000 Tiffany walked into the living room where Skeeter was stretched out on the futon sofa sipping a cold beer. The apartment on Bleecker Street was still hot in the late afternoon heat. Music from the Red Lion Bar below echoed through the open window. "Here Baby, sit down here beside me", he said in his slow southern accent sitting up and touching the cushion of the soiled futon for her to take a seat beside him. The music intensified on the television as a murder plot unfolded. Tiffany sat down beside her estranged husband and placed her glass of Diet Coke on the coffee table in front of them. She quietly looked around the living room for additional clues. She had just seen 'J. Morgan' on Skeeter's caller ID in the kitchen. If her estranged husband was having an affair with her worse enemy and co-worker Jan Morgan, she had to get to the bottom of it right now. "Wanna take a little nap?" he asked rubbing his hand over her thigh in the tight Capri pants unaware of the storm brewing beside him. He was tired from his romp a few hours ago with Jan but it had been a long time since he scored with his estranged wife. "No. I really want to ask you a question," she said. "Shoot," he said as he pulled her towards him and kissed the back of her neck. "Who called while we were having dinner?" "Called?" he asked as his mouth made its way from the back of her neck towards the front of her throat and downward. "On the phone Skeeter," she said pulling away from his embrace. "No one". "I heard you talking on the phone," she said turning to stare him in the face. "What are you talking about Tiffany," he said irritated that she had stopped his advances. Surely she had stopped by because she missed his touch. Jan was always available, but Tiffany was more voluptuous and sensual. "Skeeter I heard you talking on the phone while you were in the kitchen. Surely you remember that," she said scooting over to the other cushion to get away from him. "What's the matter with you Tiffany? What kinda' third degree is this? We've been havin' some fun today for the first time in a year. You spoil everything," he snapped picking up his beer and taking a long hard swallow. He put the can back on the coffee table and he looked her straight in the eyes. "Skeeter I saw the caller ID when I took the dishes in the kitchen. It said 'J. Morgan'," she said watching him closely for the signs of deceit. "J. Morgan?" "Yes. J. Morgan. And I could have sworn that I saw a woman in the window when I walked by earlier on the way to look at that apartment. When I came back later I thought I saw someone that looked like Jan Morgan getting in a cab in front of this apartment. "Who is Jan Morgan?" he asked playing dumb. "Jan. Jan, Jan Morgan, the woman that hates me so much. Jan Morgan, Amir's assistant, Skeeter!" she said a little louder than she had planned. "Oh. Is that what this is about? It ain't enough that your boyfriend's bodyguard gets shot and the police question me. It ain't enough is it Tiffany, now you're accusing me of having your boyfriend's high class assistant over here, that it?" he said loudly as his eyes narrowed. "I'm asking you," she said realizing that she could be wrong about seeing Jan. "I'm tellin' you I don't know what the hell you're talkin' about," he said kicking the table with his bare foot. "Why is Jan's number on your caller ID then?' she asked. "Did you ever think that maybe she might have been tryin' to call you? You did live here before me, you know. You are the person that works with this Jan…whoever. If that was her that called here?" "Was that her?" "Whoever it was hung up", he lied. "I thought I heard you talking on the phone", she persisted. "You heard me cussin' whoever hung up on me, have you ever heard me do that before?" "Yeah," she admitted. "Then maybe you're wrong. Did you ever think about that?" "I said I was only asking." "Then I'm tellin' you that you were wrong. Come on Baby; let's take a little nap. We were havin' so much fun don't start getting jealous. That's what ruined our marriage Baby," he said pulling on the top button of her sweater. CONTINUED TOMORROW. MORE PHOTOS BELOW. More soaps at: WORLDWIDE LITERATURE TOP 100.
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