The voice-mail woman had that Demi Moore kind of voice, husky and sexy from too many cigarettes. Ina slammed the phone down, hoping there hadn’t been any ambient noise from her end that would identify her to the “don’t bore me” woman.

Ina lay around with a stomachache for the rest of that afternoon. Larry had been at class and then was going for drinks with some buddies later. Ina kept running over and over in her head whether there could be any reasonable explanation for the stealth phone calls in the middle of the night, while she’d slept in bed. Maybe it was a friend of his sister’s or someone in trouble? It would be just like Larry to try and help someone out. Her ruminating was interrupted by the doorbell.

Normally Ina wouldn’t have opened the door, but Larry had mentioned that a script for a project might be dropped off, and she didn’t want to blow it by not answering. So Ina opened the door, not to a delivery man but to a striking woman dressed all in black, one of those chicks in their late twenties who had major attitude and smoked and hung out in coffeehouses most of the day.

“Ina, right?”

There it was; the voice.

“Yeah, I’m Ina,” she replied. Then, wanting to let the girl in black know that she knew about her, Ina folded her arms across her chest. “Larry’s not home.”

“Yeah, I know. I wanted to come here and tell you something. Just so you know, I’m Larry’s wife and he’s never going to marry you. And I’ve heard all about you and your lousy blow jobs, which is why Larry has to come to my house twice a week so I can get him off properly.”

Ina stood there in stunned silence. She believed every word the girl in black had said. The blow job thing was, literally, a low blow. Ina knew she could use some help in that department, but it wasn’t like she wanted to watch a porno and hone her technique.

“I just wanted to let you know what’s really going on,” the girl said and, as she headed back to the black BMW parked at the curb, she turned around for a parting shot. “And if you’re going to call someone to check up on your boyfriend, and you plan on hanging up, you should remember that everyone has caller ID now and it’s obvious, okay? It’s obvious who’s calling.”

With that, Miss Size-Four Black Jeans had gotten into her car and peeled away. Ina remained in the open doorway, stunned. She slowly closed the door and turned the deadbolt to lock it into place. Now she really had something to talk to Larry about when he got home.