BABY GIGOLO.

A Quiet Rage.

Some women, when faced with the magnitude of the discovery such as Amanda's would cry their hearts out and smudge their make-up in the process. They would phone his and her parents and bitterly lament the impending dissolution of their marriage while imploring them to intervene for the sake of the children and before it's too late to save what could be saved.

What they fail to realize is that when things have regressed to this point it is already too late, but the shock of the discovery would want them to believe that it is his first time, that it is the other woman's fault, and that something should be done to remedy the situation.

She would tear her hair out, and phone her friends to inform them of the tragedy that has struck her and her household. They in turn would drop everything they were busy with to rally around a fallen sister in distress. They would find her in a hysterical and pitiable state, throw their arms around each other and cry in unison.

After having cleared the broken objects from the floor, each one would give the best advice on how to handle her man while offering to scratch the other woman's eyes out. On their way out, they would smack their collective lips in having done a good deed for the day.

Amanda did quite the opposite. She instinctively knew that there was nothing that anyone could say or do to set things right. She phoned no one nor did she say anything to anyone. She was going to give him as good as she got, and she wanted it to be a surprise.

People were prone to gossip and she did not want him to get wind of her plans and spoil the surprise. She put on her poker face and kept her cards close to her chest. It was the only place where she knew it would be safe. Not a soul was aware of the quiet rage that darkened her heart.

Her mind wandered to her two beautiful daughters, Celeste and Jamie and considered the impact her plans would have on them.

"They are old enough to understand. As long as I plan it so that no finger points back at me, that shouldn't be too hard," she thought.

Celeste, the eldest, was a proper lady. She watched what she ate, went to gym regularly, participated in outside sporting activities, and was the perfect size ten. No one can claim the honor of ever having rattled her cage or ruffled her feathers. Under fire she was dead calm and thought things through before she answered. When up against an angry person she would listen to what they have to say and then walk away with her standard answer, "we'll discuss this rationally when you have calmed down. In the meantime you should have a great day."

People were a little afraid of her, because they did not know how to handle her. Celeste did not allow anyone to get under her skin. Studying towards a degree in Industrial Psychology she was forever probing, dissecting and analyzing people's words, actions, humanity in general and her environment.

Jamie, who was younger by two years, was the exact opposite.  Her nose was forever in her phone, and the world could go to blazes for all she cared. She was a freshman studying towards a degree in Information Technology and had already designed several apps that were posted on Google Play and was earning good money. Jamie loved food, and although she ate what she wanted she did not pile on the pounds.

She was lucky that way, seeing that she did not engage in any physical activities. She did not care what she wore as long as it was clean and she was dressed, and although she had her own laptop and gadgets she would, on occasion, borrow her mother's when her's crashed or their batteries were low.

One night after dinner, when everyone was retiring to their bedrooms she shouted, "Mom, I'm going to need your laptop tonight. Mine crashed. I'll take it in for repairs tomorrow, but there is some project that I urgently need to finish."

"Ok, honey. Do you need the password?"

"I'll figure it out."

Amanda knew that Jamie would. Everyone in the house has complained at one time or another about the lack of privacy. Jamie relished the challenge of cracking everyone's passcodes and prying around in things that were supposed to be private. When Jamie managed to gain access, she saw a file named 'Jack'. Her curiosity was peaked.

When she opened it she was staggered by what she saw. Clip after clip showed her father making out with his secretary. Her mind reeled. Her first reaction was to call her mom, but then she thought better of it. She wondered how long her mother had been sitting on it, why she never told anyone, why she hadn't done anything about it, and what she was planning on doing about it.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she considered these and other questions. She wished she could smash in her father's face and shoot that bish of a secretary. Jamie did not plan on telling her sister because she needed time to think on what to do with the information. After drying her tears and sobering up she shared a copy of the file to her phone and buried it under a cloud where only she could find it.

Her project was completely forgotten as she sat late into the night watching it over and over getting more and more disgusted. Suddenly she had an idea. She knew what she could do and with her IT knowledge it should be as easy as pie. Unlike her mother she was not going to sit on her hands and let that bastard get away with it.

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