"What…! Hey Julie what's going on, you're my wife you know!"
"What does that mean Randy?" she sneered.
"It means that if I want to exercise my husbandly rights and fuck you, I can do it."
"Haven't you been getting enough elsewhere Randy?" she spat out boldly.
"How's that?"
"I think you know what I mean Randy."
"Come on, spit it out Julie, what are you getting at," Randy commanded, not realizing that Julie knew anything of his double life.
"Alright, if that's the way you want it," she said defiantly, "you've been seen out in San Francisco with several woman over the past year, so God knows what you do in Los Angeles, London and Paris."
"Who told you that," he asked, creasing his brow in an effort to remember if he had ever seen any of their mutual friends when he had been with another woman.
"Never mind who, but obviously you've had other women Randy."
"Well, you're so tied up with your painting baby, a man has to have some fun."
"Are you jealous of my art Randy?"
"You spend so much Goddamned time on it baby, at least when I'm home you could spend a little time with me, any other women would be happy to take care of me, do all the things a wife should do."
"Oh God! I just can't believe you're saying this," Julie said.
"Well I am baby, I'm sick and tired of playing second fiddle. You're just not desirable to me any more."
Suddenly something split inside Julie as she heard Randy's last remarks, she wanted to hurt him, to really hurt him to pay him back for all the women he had had when she had thought he was being a faithful husband to her. She didn't care anymore… she just wanted to strike back at him to pay him back for her own pain. "You bastard," she screamed, "that's not true, ask Philip Randolph he fucked me tonight and he seemed to be very satisfied."
"You bitch," screamed Randy swinging at her with his fist, hitting her mouth and causing a thin trickle of blood to run down her chin.
"That's it, now you've done it," yelled Julie, "get out of here you rotten bastard, get out of here, I never want to see you again!"
"Don't worry I'm leaving, there are other women around who want me!"
Randy grabbed his jacket and briefcase and stormed out of the studio before Julie could stop him, as she watched him leave she collapsed on the floor, sobbing, she hadn't meant to tell him about Philip and now she felt really ashamed.
Oh God! Julie thought to herself as she realized fully what she had done. She hadn't meant for things to turn out this way, she loved Randy despite his infidelities and now she had totally ruined everything, she had probably lost Randy for ever. "Oh God!" sobbed Julie, "I just want to die, I really want to die!"
CHAPTER FOUR
Julie could hardly wait to talk to Philip, she sipped her coffee in her apartment and looked impatiently at the clock. Probably the gallery wouldn't open until 10:00AM damn it, she really wanted to talk to someone. Suddenly Julie Moore felt very lonely, she realized now that she didn't know anyone in New York and it was a big place. She thought of calling Larry Rutherford, he had been so good to her he would probably give her a shoulder to cry on… still she felt silly, she didn't really know him either. The only person she felt intimate with was Philip, she would just have to wait until she could talk to him.
The clock seemed to go very slowly but finally it was 10:15AM Julie picked up the telephone and dialed the gallery. "Good morning, Argon Gallery," she heard the receptionist purr. "Good morning, could I speak to Mr. Randolph?" Julie said firmly. "Who shall I say is calling?" the receptionist inquired. "Julie Moore," Julie could sense a strange silence at the other end of the telephone, she wondered vaguely if Philip's receptionist was aware of what was going on, could it be that she desires him herself, she wondered. "Just a moment, I'll connect you," she heard her finally say.
"Good morning Julie my dear, what can I do for you," she heard Philip's soothing tones.
Immediately Julie began to sob uncontrollably, it took her several minutes to actually explain to Philip what had happened and to tell him how miserable she was.
Philip Randolph was very sympathetic, he had lived enough years to have lived through several such similar scenes himself, "I've got a good idea," he said after a while, "look you're tired, a little run down, why don't you go out to my house on Fire Island for a few days, rest up a little. When you get back you can get in touch with Randy via his company… how about it, I'll even try to get out to the island to meet you."
"Are you sure?" Julie hesitated, not at all certain that she wanted to be alone for a few days.
"Quite sure, in fact I'll take you out there today but I won't be able to stay, too much business to attend to at the moment."
"Alright Philip, thank you," murmured Julie.
"Quite alright my dear, the sea-air will do you a world of good, always does."
Julie Moore hung up the telephone and started to look around her studio, she would take her sketchbook with her, do some studies of the ocean and the wildlife, anything to take her mind off of her problems. Oh Randy, she thought… I do love you!
Julie had been on the island for a couple of days before she began to realize that she was being studied. Two men in particular always seemed to be on the beach when she was, at first she had thought it coincidence but now she was convinced that they were after something. She was a little frightened, after all she thought to herself, I am alone at the house, anything could happen! She made a mental note to call Philip when she got back to the day, perhaps he would come out to the island later on. She lay back on the sand, pulling her sunhat down over her face just enough to cover the sun from her eyes but not enough to block the two young men from her view. She was curious now… who were they?
Idly now she began to study them, both of them looked around 25, they were both fairly tall, the only difference being that one was rather stocky with his height and the other quite slim. The slim man had dark black hair and was really quite handsome, the stocky one had sandy colored hair and wasn't as good looking although he was attractive. Suddenly she became aware that they were walking towards her… oh God! What should she do? Should she get up quickly and rush into the house? No time, they were almost at her side.
"Hi, I'm Pete Howard," the slim dark-haired young man said smoothly and, "I'm Tim Black," the sandy-haired man said quickly following.
"Oh… hello," Julie said shyly, "I'm Julie Moore."
"Hope you don't mind our pushing ourselves upon you, we noticed you yesterday, aren't too many people here during the week."
"Is that so?" Julie said.
"Sure, this place is mobbed on weekends. New Yorkers' pile out here like ants, you won't believe it, that is if you're here then. How long are you staying?"
"I'm not sure, I'm in my friend's house and he may come out tonight to take me back to the city," Julie said quickly, anxious to let the young men know that there was someone in her life that she wasn't open game.
The two young men were so charming however that Julie's fears were quickly dispelled, they chatted for a long while, went into the ocean together and before she really knew what she was doing, Julie found herself inviting them both back to the house for a drink.
"Love to," they both echoed.
Julie was beginning to discover a sense of power with her new freedom. Ever since Randy had walked out on her she had become increasingly aware of how much of the outside world she had closed off, particularly in the direction of men. She had even ceased to think of herself as being really attractive until recently, in fact until Philip Randolph had paid her so much attention. Now, with two attractive young men at her feet she was really beginning to feel beautiful. The fact of the matter was that she was lonely and whether she knew it or not, she was also vulnerable, and her ego was being lifted by their very presence. She would have read the danger signs in their boldly moving eyes and in the persistent tingling excitement beginning to course through her own body, but she ignored the warnings. After all, neither of the young men had said a single thing out of order.