Page 47

Phoenix's smiling face pops up on my screen as I search for the Nirvana playlist on my iPhone.

"Yeah," I answer rudely.

"Hi . . . Aria, babe. Can we talk? Maybe meet up?"

"What's there to talk about? I mean really? After everything you've done. I think it's pretty clear where you stand, Phoenix."

"Please? Let me explain? I'll come over."

"I hope you don't expect me to just roll over for you."

"I don't! But there's an explanation for everything and I should've told you sooner. All of this could've been avoided. I'm so, so sorry, babe."

"First off, stop calling me that. We both know I'm not your babe. I'm going for a quick run. Be here in an hour." Knowing I have news for him as well, I try to think of the best way to break it to him.

____________________

I get back from my run with a few minutes left on the clock. I go inside and clean myself up. By the time Phoenix arrives, my hair is up in a messy bun and my make-up is fierce. I answer the door wearing my slouchy, off-the-shoulder "Food Over Dudes" T-shirt with capri leggings.

"Hey," I greet him unenthusiastically.

"Hey! You look good, Ari. Really good." He tries to kiss me, but I deflect.

"So — your explanation?" I sit down on the reclining chair.

Phoenix follows and sits across from me on the couch. "Right. Get right to it. OK . . . so . . . you know how you saw me at that club?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, that's the documentary I was telling you about."

"Hmm. I didn't see any cameras or crew?"

"Well . . . that's just it, I went there to do research. Let me come clean on everything. The documentary I'm working on is about swinging. It's about couples in the swing lifestyle. That club you saw me at, it was a swing club."

"No — you don't say!"

"Listen, I hear the sarcasm in your voice." He takes a deep breath and exhales. "I've already started filming. I can bring you footage, if you don't believe me."

"OK. Show me the footage. Now."

Startled by my demand, he blinks a few times. "Alright." He picks up his phone. "Carl, you at the studio?" He looks at me and nods then puts him on speaker. "Have you started editing the party footage I sent you?"

"No. Not yet. I have a long list ahead of it but I can move you to the front of the line."

"No! Don't do that. No need. I'm coming through today. Bringing my girl to watch it. She wants to see it."

"All of it!" I mouth to him.

"Uh, she wants to see it all."

"All ten hours?" Carl asks as if he can't believe someone would do that.

Unaffected by his tone, I nod.

"All ten hours, man." Phoenix throws up his free hand.

"Got it. I'll have it ready when you come through. Room 3B."

"We'll be there within the hour." He hangs up. "I've got nothing to hide."

"You're not off the hook yet. Who was that woman you were with?"

"Now that's . . . complicated. Long story short, she's helping me with the film.

See, in order for men to go into that environment, you need a woman.

They don't allow single men in this swing club.

Don't ask why." He clears his throat. "This is hard for me to tell you, Ari but I used to be in that lifestyle . . . with . . . my ex-wife."

"Ex? Wife?" I laugh to myself. "You never even told me you were married and anyhow, ex doesn't sound accurate from what I hear." I sniff the air. "I'm starting to smell a lie. You smell that?"

He laughs to himself. "Wow. I deserve that.

" He looks down and rubs the back of his head.

"I'm in the process of getting a divorce.

That woman you saw me with is Nora, my ex.

The only reason I was with her is because she already knows what that life is about.

I would've included you if I thought you could handle it.

I should've asked you, but I didn't want to scare you off.

The masquerade party was already plenty and I didn't even plan that.

Riz got us mixed into that. Honestly, I didn't want you to feel forced to go further.

So, I tried to keep you out of it to protect you. "

"Now we're getting somewhere. Finally, a whiff of the truth. How were you able to keep this marriage from me for so long? Why didn't anyone tell me? Your boys, my co-workers?"

"All my friends know the truth. When Nora and I called it quits, we had a party and announced it to everyone.

It's not a secret. We're not together. As for work, I made it a point to announce the divorce there as well.

I knew that people would see me out and about dating, so I got in front of it and my public relations department took care of the rest for me.

It's not in any gossip magazines, blogs or papers.

They do a regular scrub of the internet on my behalf. "

"You have that much clout? You can scrub the internet?"

"Company image is everything. It costs but yeah, it can be done.

The only press out there on me is what I've approved and provided and Nora has nothing to do with my company.

She doesn't attend any events. Newer employees know nothing about her, they think I'm single.

Which I am. And your department has been on a hiring wave, so I suspect few, if any, know of my situation there. Aside from Ally, of course."

"Hmm. What about Miami? Was that Nora who kept calling? What was that about?"

"She called a few times in Miami. She was working on setting up more swing parties for the footage we needed.

She was also getting documents and release forms. She's a lawyer, Ari.

She was taking care of all the legal issues.

She also brokered talks between myself and a few premium cable stations, trying to negotiate distribution and pay-per-view rights and fees.

This is another reason it made sense to work with her. "

"I can see that being beneficial from a business standpoint," I admit reluctantly. My anger starts to disintegrate. "So, that's why you kept all this from me?"

He nods, not once taking his eyes off me.

"Well, why were you two all drunk and disheveled leaving the club? Like you had just had sex?"

"You won't believe me, but Nora is still in that lifestyle."

"How? I thought you always need a partner to go to those clubs?"

"Yes and no. Men always need a mate. Women on the other hand, can have one or not.

A woman can actually go to a party solo.

We went to recruit people for the next party we were hosting.

Nora had already hosted one while we were in Miami.

Most everyone in that lifestyle knows us as a couple from years ago, so we used it to our advantage.

Swinging is about trust. If people don't trust you, they won't deal with you.

We needed people to feel good about coming to our parties, good enough to sign waivers allowing us to film them in the documentary.

So, to continue building on that trust, I told her I would go and help recruit for the next party.

I had some drinks. Too many but I only socialized and added people to the invite for the next party.

That's it. I didn't participate in anything.

I hung out at the bar and around the pool table.

Nora, on the other hand, actually got down with a couple in a private room. "

"That stings. I don't like that you were there with her like that."

"I didn't think she'd go that far with me around. She knows I'm out of the lifestyle."

"Maybe she was trying to lure you back in. Guys can't refuse that stuff, you know? Sex right in front of your face or just behind a closed door."

"Maybe that would've worked when I was still attracted to her, but those days are over. I'm not into Nora like that. Believe me, she knows that. The marriage is over. She's more like a sister to me than anything."

"So, that explains why she looked the way she did. What that doesn't tell me is what you really did while you were there. How do I know you didn't give it one last go, for the road? Or worse, how do I know it's not something you do every time you disappear?"

"Listen, it's over between me and Nora. We're just friends. It makes getting divorced much smoother when both parties agree and, believe me, we agree for a number of reasons . . . ."

"What did you do after you left the club? Why didn't you answer the phone or call me back?" Residual feelings of anger and abandonment quickly surface. "You know I had a car accident because of you! A taxi cab T-boned me and I loved that car!"

"A car accident? Are you OK?" He gets up and walks to me, frantically looking me over.

"I'm alright, at least physically." I bat his hand away from my face.

"You gotta be kidding me." He stares at me as if he doesn't believe me.

He sits on the edge of the couch, getting as close to me as he can.

"You could've been hurt. All because of me.

" He rubs his forehead, covering his face with his hands.

For a long time, he's silent. Then he steels himself.

"I'll have Leon take the car to the shop.

" Reaching for my hands, he holds them and caresses them.

"Babe. I'm sorry. I was drunk. Way too drunk to be driving.

I had no idea you were in a car accident.

I would've stopped. Turned back around. I hightailed it all the way back to Milwaukee that night.

Dropped her off at her place and went home.

I felt terrible about what happened. I didn't know how to fix it.

I passed out on the living room floor. Woke up the next day with my front door wide open.

It wasn't a good look." His head hangs low and he stares at the carpet.

"What's to say you didn't take her home and fuck her brains out? How will I ever know the truth? Your explanation leaves room for so many other possibilities."

"I didn't touch that woman. You gotta believe me. I hate that I put you through this. I'm so sorry but I'm telling the truth."

Unaffected by his apology, I stare with vacant eyes. "We're going to the studio, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good. So, according to you, I won't see you participating in any sexual activities?"

He shakes his head. "None. I was there on business. Just filming and interviewing."

"OK." I take a deep breath. "If that's true, then there's only one thing I need from you after leaving the studio."

"What? Anything. Anything at all."

"I'm gonna need you to show me your divorce papers."