The lighting was tinted amber by the simulated glass shades on the table lamps. Dark green dinnerware with matching bone-handled flatware provided the rather bilious ambience of Cicero's faux elegance.

"I need something to drink, where the hell is the waiter?"

"Right beside you, Percy." Lillian shone an indulgent smile on the young man poised beside her companion.

"Ah great. I want a giant Bloody Caesar with a log of celery and a half inch of salt on the rim. Lil?"

"May I have a vodka martini please -- two olives."

The waiter bowed away into the dim luminance.

"So, are you still concerned about Matthew?" Percy Rudman opened his menu and frowned at the faint script.

"Certainly I'm concerned, you fired him! You never said anything about that. It was supposed to be a-- a goodbye occasion, with speeches and compliments . . ."

"Jesus, Lillian it wasn't Oscar night. There wasn't time for all that, the deal needs to be made pronto and this was the best way."

"You said he wouldn't be hurt and now he's just walked out and hasn't returned home. How am I supposed to talk about a divorce?" She looked quickly around as her voice sounded loud in her head.

"So what, he's been gone a night. Probably got drunk and stayed in a hotel."

"What hotel"

"Any hotel I don't know. You said he had a favourite hotel bar." Percy covered his exasperation with a gulp of his water. "Besides, you can't hand him papers right away. You have to wait for the-- the evidence. You have to finesse the situation a bit . . . work up to it, and I didn't fire him, Lil."

"That's how he saw it."

"He was released due to a necessary restructuring of the company goals . . . our goals I might emphasize."

Her expression pinched.

The drinks arrived and Percy wiped half the salt off with the celery, crunching noisily and decorating his plate with fallout.

"Look, Lil, we had to get this train movin'. Wheels are turning fast at the resort and I don't plan to get run over. As soon as I hear the results of . . . uh, we can move ahead with the necessary steps for the divorce."

"What if that doesn't work? What do we--?"

"It'll work, trust me."

"What if it isn't soon enough? Mathew isn't like that . . . I mean he doesn't-- wouldn't just--"

"Trust me, Lil. Mathew will do exactly as we planned."

"He'll want to sell the villa to cover all our other expenses you know. " Her sentence ended with a whine.

"He can't move on something like that instantly, Jesus, Lil calm down and think straight. He won't get that chance."

"He told me this afternoon when he got home, we're as good as broke or soon will be!"

Percy looked doubtful but since their entire scheme was aimed at acquiring the property, the value of which would be unlimited with the planned expansion of the resort, he had to keep her on course.

"Look, we're getting what we wanted, Lil. I guarantee but it can't happen at the snap of a finger; things need time to work right . . . and they will."

The waiter appeared and bent down to see their faces in the light.

"Would madam care for another martini?"

"Yes, she would and bring me another one of these," Percy snapped.

"Are you ready to decide on dinner or shall I--?"

"Ask her." Percy said, pointing at Lillian.

The young man painted his best empathetic look and listened dutifully to Lillian's request then winced at Percy's selection.

"Still, I'm sorry to hear that, Lil." He continued after the waiter left. "He didn't strike me as a careless spender, on the contrary, I had to force him to keep his own department upgraded. The guy always said, waste not want not. I said who gives a f--"

"It doesn't alter the fact that until this is over I won't be enjoying any status now that he's jobless."

"Christ, you're eating' and drinkin' at the city's most expensive restaurant. Status? Who gives a-- "

"Your drink sir, madam. Dinner will be shortly."

They both sat silently - Percy not so much what with the noisy crunch of celery. The waiter returned moments later with a message for Percy.

"You have an urgent call sir."

He stood and followed the waiter, using the land line, his cell phone, surrendered earlier at the door per dining room policy.

"Yes? . . . . Really? So soon?. . . . . Absolutely and I want them first thing at my office. . . . . Right. I'll have your envelope ready. Excellent work, just excellent!." Percy returned the phone and went back to the table.

"Well," he sat with a thump and flipped his serviette open, "that was step one already completed. I told you this would work, Lil."

"Step one?"

"Shhh. Yes. By morning I will have that material I mentioned. Humphrey will file on your behalf and as soon as he has the paperwork, which I will tell him has to be tomorrow, you can confront Mathew, get his signature and by the end of next week you'll be free . . . and have your status again."

"But when will he come home?"

"Oh he'll be home tomorrow for sure."

Lillian gulped down some of her wine and stared across at Percy, her pride battered that Mathew could -- would -- betray her so quickly!

"C'mon now, eat up. Let's enjoy this meal . . . and the rest of the evening." He winked broadly and stuck a chunk of blue steak into his mouth.

******

Colourful circles of light filled Matthew's vision and just as they began to clear, another explosion of light started them swirling all over again. As they faded away he was able to see images gradually coming into focus and taking recognizable shapes.

The first was that of a tall man with an equipment bag over one shoulder. He was accepting an envelope from another figure, one that riveted his attention. The figure turned toward him, leaned forward slightly then quickly began removing the cherry red bustier and slipping into more conventional clothing. Matthew scrubbed at his eyes and closed them against the ache in his head, still listening to the scramble taking place at the foot of the bed in which he found himself.

He opened them again and saw his bare legs extended in front and tilting his eyes further saw the rest of his naked body.

"What the hell!"

"Your clothes are in the bathroom."

He looked up into the face of the woman. "What happened . . . ?"

"Life, Matthew." She tossed the room key on the bed. "You have the room until checkout at ten. I paid for the extra night."

"But-- but . . ." The door opened and the pair departed, closing it softly and leaving him alone.

********

Mathew sat helplessly in the living room chair while Lillian paraded back forth, berating him in her hurt, shrill manner and allowing no interruptions. She had stormed the vestibule as soon as the door opened when he arrived home. The cab driver had waited patiently while Mathew found his wallet, happy it wasn't him getting raked over the coals and offered a sympathetic face as he drove away.

"For god's sake, Lillian, turn it off! Enough is enough." He wished he had a drink but the bottle hadn't been replaced and his head was sending alarm signals over the very thought.

"Fine for you to say. You don't come home for days--"

"One day and a half, Lillian. One day and one night and I told you--"

"--and I'm left here worrying myself sick!" She continued unabated.

"I can imagine." He slumped forward in the chair, cradling his aching head in his hands.

She stopped in front of him, arms down and clasped her hands together. Mathew glanced up dreading another barrage, instead hearing a calm, steady voice advising him she had filed divorce papers.

The leap from being worried sick to getting divorced, in a matter of seconds, left Mathew feeling like he was skydiving with a hairnet.

"What?"

"I'm divorcing you, Mathew."

"How-- when-- it was one night! How could you-- you've been planning this . . . what possible grounds?"

"Emotional cruelty."

"What?" He sprang from the chair, arms raised in a touchdown signal. Lillian retreated, suddenly uncertain of her timing. "Emotio-- if anyone is abused emotionally in this house it's me, Lillian!"

"That's not true, Mathew. I've never abused you."

"Hah! Maybe not emotionally but sure as hell financially!"

"I don't-- what do you mean financially?"

"Look around, Lillian!" Mathew took his turn to parade about, gesticulating punctuations to his accusations. "This house with three bathrooms, five bedrooms for two people. That water pit in the back yard that neither of us have ever been in . . . I don't even swim for Christ's sake! Those clothes you revel in using all the closet space in every room!.' His voice climbed in pitch and volume. "Oh, and our precious villa that put paid to anything I might want to spend some money on . . . money that I went out and earned!"

She backed into a chair and sat heavily, cringing dramatically from her husband's outburst. Her lips quivered as she handed him an envelope and groped for a tissue stuck in her sleeve.

"What's this?"

"Proof of your cruelty." She watched his face go through a series of emotions before he slowly slid the contents from the envelope. Pictures and several sheets of paper.

Mathew gaped at the photographs, his mind blinking in an attempt to comprehend. The bustier. The rumpled bed. The woman . . . the woman! Constance! He stared at the scenes frozen on the paper wondering how he could have even managed anything like that . . . and forgotten!