The Secret Billionaire

            Sitting in the PI’s office, Regina Jackson struggled to control her emotions. She didn’t want to flip out. Not yet. She hired the investigator because she believed her husband of thirteen years was cheating on her – again.

            The first time, they were going through a rough patch. Ten years ago, she had miscarried their child. If that wasn’t bad enough, the doctor told her she would never be able to carry a child to full-term. Regina had fallen into a depression. Sidney was down, too, but he did something about his depression — he had taken a lover. She was a teller at their bank. Regina’s cousin had seen Sidney and the teller walk out of a hotel in downtown Livingston. When Regina had confronted Sidney, he broke down in tears. He had professed that he was sorry, and he was just with the teller to forget about his grief for a while. Sidney had begged Regina not to leave him. They had gone to counseling and moved on.

            “Your husband has put the other woman up in your jointly owned rental property. She has been living there for six months,” the PI said. “Her name is Vicki Monroe. She doesn’t have a job, and she’s twenty-seven years old. I couldn’t find out much in public records about her other than her birth certificate says she was born in Washington, D.C. Here’s a picture of her.”

            Regina took the photo. The homewrecker had hair like Pocahontas, probably a weave or a wig, and she was tall. Or perhaps it was just the stiletto heels she was wearing. She wore high-end clothing. If she didn’t have a job, then Sidney had to be giving her money. And Regina had believed Sidney when he said that no one was interested in renting the condo. She rolled her eyes as she shook her head.

            “I have pictures of them kissing in public,” the PI said solemnly. He was middle-aged with thin, light brown hair. His face was chubby and round.

            “I don’t need to see those,” she stated.

            “I understand, but you will need them to give to your attorney for your divorce.”

            There isn’t going to be a divorce. I’m not going to let some gold-digging slut break up my marriage. I’ve invested the best years of my life into this thing. However, Regina wanted the photographs to show Sidney when she confronted him. “All right.”

            The PI handed her a legal-sized, yellow envelope. “I also included a typed report of my findings to give to your attorney.”

            “Thank you,” Regina said and stood. She knew he meant well, but she wanted to get out of there before she lost control of her emotions.

            The PI stood from his chair. He offered his hand to her. When Regina placed her hand in his, he kept a hold of it. “If you need me to testify at a divorce hearing, just get your attorney to contact me. And . . . I hope you don’t mind me saying this, Mrs. Jackson, but you’re an extremely attractive woman. You deserve better.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

            Regina looked up in the PI’s blue eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.

****

            Regina drove her white BMW convertible down the road to her house. Her husband wouldn’t be back from the office for another two hours. That would give her enough time to calm down and think about what she wanted to say and what she wanted to ask about his infidelity.

Sidney Jackson was an orthodontist. He made good money. Fifteen years ago, Regina had opened a hair salon in Florida. She did so well that she opened another location. Then another. Before she knew it, she had seventeen salons up and down the East Coast. As a couple, Regina and Sidney owned several rental properties. The last time Regina had checked with their accountant, they had a net worth of eleven million dollars.

She was coming up on their four-bedroom home on the hill in Livingston, New Jersey. Her brows furrowed when she saw the small moving truck in her driveway. “What the hell?”

She pulled into the driveway next to the truck and hopped out of her car. Sidney’s black Mercedes was parked next to the curb. Regina looked at the side of the truck. It had Joe’s Movers in print on the side.

Two men carried Sidney’s desk from his office out the front door.

“Hey!” she said. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Moving the desk,” one of them said in a strained tone.

“I can see that. Why are you moving it? What are you doing here?” she asked with heat.

“Um . . . do you live here, ma’am?” one of the men asked.

“Yes! This is my house. I didn’t call any movers.”

The two men put the desk down on the walk and looked at each other.

A man carrying Sidney’s office chair walked out the front door. Then, Sidney appeared behind him.

“Sidney, are you getting new office furniture?” Regina asked.

Her husband looked at her. “Not exactly. Come in, Regina. We need to talk.” Then he looked at the movers. “Can you guys give us fifteen minutes? After we’re finished talking, you can start getting the boxes.”

“Sure,” the man who was carrying the chair said. “It’s your dime.”

“Boxes?” she said.

“Come inside, Regina,” Sidney said calmly.

Regina quickly walked into the house. Sidney closed the door behind them. They walked to the living room. Half the books on the bookcase were missing, and there were three brown boxes stacked in front of the TV.

“What the hell?” she whispered.

“I had hoped to have my things out of here before you got home from running errands and visiting your shop in Jersey City. I was going to come back and tell you face-to-face once the movers moved my things into the condo.”

“What?”

“Regina, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. I’m leaving you. I want a divorce,” he said with little emotion.

Her mouth dropped open. “You’re leaving me for that slut you let stay in our condo for free!”

Sidney’s eyebrows rose. “So, you know about her.”

“Yes, I know about her,” she confirmed angrily. “We’ve been married for thirteen years. We’ve built a life together, and you’re leaving me for someone who you’ve only known for ten months?” Regina couldn’t believe it. Yes, he was cheating on her, but she never thought he would leave her.

“Hmm. You knew more than you let on. Why did you stay quiet if you knew about Vicki?” he asked with confusion all over his face.

“I didn’t . . . I didn’t know for sure until today,” she admitted. “For the past three months, all I knew was that the jeweler had called about a necklace that I know I didn’t order, there was a charge on our credit card for a hotel room in New York that I didn’t reserve, and for some reason, no one would rent the condo, which happens to be in a prominent neighborhood.”

“So how did you find out about her?”

“I . . . I hired a PI. I didn’t know for sure if you were cheating, but I couldn’t shake this feeling that something was going on behind my back.”

He cocked his head to the side. “You actually spent money on a PI?”

“Sidney, I’m thirty-six. I’m too old to be running around town hiding behind buildings and in bushes to find out what you’re doing,” she stated.

He nodded. “Well, I guess that’s it then. Once the movers get the boxes, I’ll be out of your hair. I’ll be living at the condo with Vicki until after our divorce. You can have the house. We’ll probably buy something in New York. She loves it there.”

She shook her head. “I know you, Sidney. This is a phase. Once you realize that Vicki Monroe is a gold-digger who just wants to use you, you’ll be begging me to take you back.”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t speak that way about the woman I love,” Sidney stated with indignation.

“Love?”

“Yes. I will always care about you, Regina, but I love Vicki. She provides me the type of attention and understanding that . . . you used to.”

“I pay plenty of attention to you,” she retorted defensively.

“Not like her. And she needs me. You’re very independent, Regina. I love that about you, but at the same time, I feel emasculated by it.”

She turned up her nose and her mouth down at the comment. “I’ve never questioned your manhood.”

“Not verbally. It’s how you carry yourself. How you act.”

“Well, excuse me for using common sense. And please beg my pardon for wanting to do something with my life other than shopping and hosting boring dinner parties.”

“There’s no reason to go on with this conversation. You are who you are. You’ll be hearing from my attorney,” he said and started walking out of the living room.

“You’ll be back. Something isn’t right about that girl,” she yelled as her husband walked away.