More Twisted

make sure you never work on Madison Avenue again. ’Bye.”
    Five minutes later he was on the street, briefcase in one hand, cell phone in the other. Watching boxes of his personal effects being loaded into a delivery truck destined for Connecticut.
    He couldn’t understand how it’d happened. Nobody from the agency ever went to Chez Antibes—it was owned by a corporation that competed with one of Foxworth’s big clients and so it was off limits. Patty and Sam wouldn’t have gone there unless Foxworth had told them to—to check up on Monroe. Somebody must’ve blown the whistle. His secretary? Monroe decided if it was Eileen, he’d get even with her in a big way.
    He walked for several blocks trying to decide what to do and when nothing occurred to him he took a cab to Grand Central.
    Bundled in the train as it clacked north, speeding away from the gray city, Monroe sipped gin from the tiny bottle he’d bought in the club car. Numb, he stared at the grimy apartments then at the pale bungalows then mini estates then the grand estates as the train sped north and east. Well, he’d pull something out of the situation. He wasgood at that. He was the best. A hustler, a salesman . . . . He was grade-A.
    He cracked the cap on the second bottle, and then the thought came to him: Cathy’d go back to work. She wouldn’t want to. But he’d talk her into it. The more he thought about it the more the idea appealed to him. Damn it, she’d hung out around the house for years. It was his turn. Let her deal with the pressure of a nine-to-five job for a change. Why should he have to put up with all the crap?
    Monroe parked in the driveway, paused, took several deep breaths, then walked into the house.
    His wife was in the living room, sitting in a rocking chair, holding a cup of tea.
    “You’re home early.”
    “Well, I’ve got to tell you something,” he began, leaning against the mantel. He paused to let her get nervous, to rouse her sympathies. “There’s been a big layoff at the agency. Foxworth wanted me to stay but they just don’t have the money. Most of the other senior people are going too. I don’t want you to be scared, honey. We’ll get through this together. It’s really a good opportunity for both of us. It’ll give you a chance to start teaching again. Just for a little while. I was thinking—”
    “Sit down, Charles.”
    Charles? His mother called him Charles.
    “I was saying, a chance—”
    “Sit down. And be quiet.”
    He sat.
    She sipped her tea with a steady hand, eyes scanninghis face like searchlights. “I had a talk with Carmen this morning.”
    His neck hairs danced. He put a smart smile on his face and asked, “Carmen?”
    “Your girlfriend.”
    “I—”
    “You what?” Cathy snapped.
    “Nothing.”
    “She seemed nice. It was a shame to upset her.”
    Monroe kneaded the arm of his Naugahyde chair.
    Cathy continued, “I didn’t plan to. Upset her, I mean. It’s just that she’d somehow got the idea we were in the process of getting divorced.” She gave a brief laugh. “Getting divorced because I’d fallen in love with the pool boy. Where’d she get an idea like that, I wonder?”
    “I can explain—”
    “We don’t have a pool, Charles. Didn’t it occur to you that that was a pretty stupid lie?”
    Monroe’s hands slipped together and he began worrying a fingernail. He’d almost told Carmen that Cathy was having an affair with a neighbor or with a contractor. Pool boy was the first thing that came to mind. And, yes, afterwards he did think it was pretty stupid.
    “Oh, if you’re wondering,” Cathy continued, “what happened was someone from the jewelry store called. They wanted to know whether to send the receipt here or to Carmen’s apartment. By the way, she said the earrings were really tacky. She’s going to keep them anyway. I told her she ought to.”
    Why the hell had the clerk done that? When he’dplaced the order he’d very explicitly said to send the receipt to the office.
    “It’s not what you think,” he said.
    “You’re right, Charlie. I think it’s probably a lot worse.”
    Monroe walked to the bar and poured himself another gin. His head ached and he felt stuffy from too much liquor. He swallowed a mouthful and set the glass down. He remembered when they’d bought this set of crystal. A sale at Saks. He’d wanted to ask for the clerk’s phone number but Cathy had been standing nearby.
    His wife took a deep breath. “I’ve