Tom thinks too much...

Tom sat still at the dining table, his cup of coffee having turned cold hours ago and now sat there in front of him unnoticed. To the left was an empty chair, its occupant long since retired to her practice across town, her own cup barely touched, and he didn't even remember when she had gotten up to leave.

The conversation had been rather business-like, no cordiality or emotion, and he knew that she had a point: this was a business discussion, not a courtesy call, and so try as he might to control some semblance of tone and pitch in the meeting, the woman had simply bulldozed him. It wasn't Irene that came to visit him, that much he knew, so the surprise had been more that she dispatched her bulldog to address him about the matter at hand. Mentally, though, his mind was at a loss for words about the whole situation.

How the hell did Irene know he existed if Sarah and Amber were two different people?

He had been puzzled by the fact that the money envelopes were still there in the drawers after Sarah reverted to herself in the mornings after coming home, as if reality didn't change much except...well...paradoxes were something he hated to address. How on earth did the money stay with him if she was not...? Did the coin do something? Had he forgotten or, more likely, misunderstood what the coin was for and what it did? That would explain the differences between the Monique who was Sarah's sister and the Monique who was his photographer/assistant/PA/best female friend. Hell, it had freaked him out when she playfully brushed her hand against his groin when they were adjusting for a shot and she merely played it off with a smile and a wink.

Tom took out the coin from his pocket and placed it on the table and stared at it for a few moments. The coin was only supposed to impact her and change her, that is what the man told him, but if it changed her...did it mean it changed people around her too? There were so many questions, too many really to wrap his head around, and the more he tried to think about it, the more the coin beckoned his attention and all he could think about was the man's words. It was an opportunity to unlock a new phase of their relationship. Why would anyone look at the chance and not take it? He certainly didn't, then, and now that he was exploring just how far it could go, he was suddenly getting cold feet and acting like a little bitch?

He picked up the coin and walked over to the computer, pulling out the slip of paper that the woman had brought from Irene and when he entered the code on the site, there was a small welcome message and an invite for him to access a separate site that ran alongside the house feed for the room that Amber worked in. This code took him to another site that had not only the upgraded video feeds and sound recording, it showed him various other rooms where he could input not only Amber's name but the names of the other women in the house. Their screens and profiles were darkened and unavailable to him but he didn't really care at the moment, the fact that he had full roaming access to the house and the women inside was a bit disconcerting. At least to a rational Tom, that is.

He spotted Amber's profile and after pulling it up, reviewed the notes and comments left by her clientele, all of which seemed to be glowing at the increased fame, popularity, and even the approaches she took to servicing them. In particular, Tom noticed that there was a section where it indicated who visited her and how often. There were three people who were repeat visitors to her, over the past 2 weeks, and each of them popped up on the vid feeds.

One was labelled as "Mr. P" and he had visited her three times for far...

...another, surprising to him, was a gold-star client of the business, Ms. Isabelle Harmon, a preschool teacher at Monique's school (surprise there!) who had also visited her three times...

...or Mr. T, someone who had visited her 5 times. This was, no doubt, her most visited client.

Tom leaned back in his chair and after glancing at the drawers filled with envelopes, he just shook his head and clicked "accept" to the terms before turning his attention back to his wife's profile. There, at the bottom, was a special link that he could see the raw footage from the porn shoot done the week prior, waiting for Irene's approval. The woman earlier, Irene's lapmonkey for all he knew, had intimated as much that Irene was waiting for him to give the all-clear on it before she approved the video's release. And the cuckolding begins... he mused before he clicked on the link to take him to the video storage/stream with the fully unedited cut.