Shades of Black and White.

It would eventually become necessary for me to come up with a plan to blackmail Mrs. Kentise into surrendering. In the selfsame manner as she had done it to me. That was after I was to have gotten myself hooked on Libby. Some of her very own tools of-the-trade would come in very handy in bringing that about too, tools such as the camera and the sound recorder. And voice recording apps, on the phone.

That was long after it had become clear to me that: the only thing she was going to be doing with the evidence which she had gathered on me being in her house screwing around with her helper. Was using it to try and blackmail me into doing the exact same thing to her, and for her. And after deciding to make this: her little shenanigans and sexual rendezvous public knowledge. And shaming her would yield far greater results in getting her to quit than any legal pursuit would. I was able to wiggle my way out and break free from her dragnet.

She started soliciting action from me mere days after she first contacted me. That was the following day after she had confronted Mira on the issue. Gosh, she smelled of breast milk for crying out loud. I thought we were bathing in the stuff. A pretty little thing she was, and still is. I can easily see how she became Mrs. Kentise. So young and all. If pretty looks were everything. Then the man who had married her — Bob Kentise, would surely have gotten everything that the world has to offer the day he married her. But other than that, she is a dumbass nutcase and a freak.

To be fair to her though. I can’t help but think that she has got some real potential here because. For her to have gone and put together a scheme like that after finding out about her helper and me. And then use it to get some action into her own partly retired sex life after her husband had done divorce her and remarried. Was a borderline genius. I do believe someone has sold her up short, somewhere along the way, her parents probably.

She had called me up the following evening after Mira gave her my contact information. Said it was important that I come to see her and get some things straightened out before she goes to see her lawyer. Mira had already alerted me to what was up. So I was not the least bit surprised.

I hopped into my car and trek on over at the time appointed. Never did make much of the fact that Mira was not on the job there at the time. Mere coincidence? Or was it the result of careful planning? Anyway, I got there to find her home with her two children. The elder boy was home from school. And just like Mira had relayed it to me how it happened when she was called upstairs to meet with the mistress. It was basically the same settings.

The laptop was there on the kitchen table, active and ready. On screen, though, unlike what was said to be in her rendition of the story. The screen wasn’t facing the front where I could see it. I was bending my neck somewhat to try and sneak a peek whenever she wasn’t looking my way but I still couldn’t see anything.

“So,” she said, “as it turned out, this is not the first time that you have been in this house, is it?”

“As a matter of fact ma’am, it isn’t. And I am awfully sorry for my indiscretions and for trespassing — ma’am.”

“So you are sorry? So you are sorry now? What makes you so sorry all of a sudden? Because you now find that you are facing some charges like trespassing on private property? Breaking and entering and, and…”

“Like I said — ma’am, I really am sorry, I meant no harm or disrespect. It was just a situation where…”

“A situation eh, that’s what it was? A situation? So what can you say to me to make me not call the police right this minute and have you arrested?”

“I, I really don’t know. I don’t have anything to say other than to ask for your pardon ma’am. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me for this. I’m not a bad person, or some evil person who has set out to do you, or anybody else harm. I just made a stupid mistake. It was a miscalculation on my part.”

“A mistake eh, that’s what it is? A mistake? Tell you what, let me think about it for a while, maybe run it by my lawyer and see what he thinks about the whole thing. Then we will decide where we go from there.”

“I know I’m pushing my luck here ma’am but. Could you leave the lawyer part out of it for me? Please.”

“No, you don’t get to tell me what to, or not to do here mister. I'll do the telling around here. You should be thanking your lucky stars right now, as it is. That you have found me in a good mood or you would be negotiating with the cops by now.”

By then the baby could be heard whining. And the boy, her brother, was a mama, mama-calling from the playroom next door. Her full attention was sorely needed elsewhere. “You may go now mister, but expect to hear from me again soon.”

“Thank you, ma’am, and have a good evening.”

“Go, go.”

So, I did just that, I left.

…

Friday evening, almost exactly a week after that meeting with Mrs. Kentise. As soon as I was to have signed off from work at about five-thirty. The phone rang. It was the madam for sure.

“I have a proposal for you Mister Manley,” she said. “You need to get here as soon as possible.” I point my nose in that direction. One can’t afford to irritate any further this person on whom so much of one’s future and freedom may depend, can he?

She opened up the door to me, so I walked in.

“Have a seat,” she said. As she turned the corner and went out of sight. I did not sit down, I could not. Instead, I scanned the room, just because. Wasn’t looking for anything in particular. I was just uncomfortable.

She came walking back into the living room, “sit, sit, sit down.” She said emphatically but rather calmly and coolly. I sat down in the very first chair that my hand could reach at the table.

She pulled out the chair on the opposite side of the table and sat herself down in front of me.

“Look,” she said, “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things. And. I have come to the conclusion that you are who you say you are. Just someone who had made a stupid mistake and is awfully sorry for it. So…” She paused, pushed back the chair, and got up.

“I’m going to cut you some slack here,” she said over her shoulder as she again turned the corner and went back in the direction of the room where she had gone before. Again, I snuck another peek around. Leaning towards the door which was slightly ajar, and which leads to the children’s playroom. It had come to my attention that I haven’t seen or heard anything of the children since I’d arrived there. Mrs. Kentise came back carrying the laptop. Or maybe it was another laptop in her hands. I can’t say for sure which, but it was a laptop. She placed it on the table and hit the power button.

With her right hand still on the backrest of the chair which she was about to pull out further. As she was about to sit back down, she paused in the middle of the act, leaning across the table at me.

“I think today is your lucky day,” she said

Note: This is a work in progress, the "Manley story." Coming soon. I look forward to your feedback. Please, let me know what you think. Thank you.