exactly.”
“Then what happened?”
“Thing is,” he said. “I was a little drunk. And she was, you know, really hot, if you want the truth. And things with my wife and me, lately . . .”
“Keep going.”
“So we’re kissing, and I mean she seems really turned on, and then just when I’m starting to think, you know, how far is this going, she pulls away. Says she hears someone.”
“Did she?”
“I don’t know. I just know it all stopped real fast after that. After a few seconds she told me I better go. So I did. Left immediately. Right down the stairs and out.”
“Anybody see you leave?”
“No idea. I was in a haze at that point.”
“I take it that wasn’t the end of things, or we wouldn’t be sitting here.”
He shook his head. “Yesterday I was checking my e-mail, and I saw this message from someone I didn’t recognize. Subject line said, ‘You and Jennifer.’ My stomach dropped. Didn’t know what to think. Guessed maybe it was from her father or something.”
“I’m guessing it wasn’t.”
“I click on it and there’s a real short message. ‘One thousand dollars by midnight Monday or this goes up on YouTube.’”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. I click on the attachment and it’s a video. A video of us. In that room. It’s, it’s crystal clear.”
“Any idea who the e-mail’s from?”
He shook his head again. “The address was just letters and numbers. I figured it was her. But then I realized somebody had to shoot the footage, unless she did it herself somehow, remotely.”
“Any idea how they got your e-mail?”
“Who knows. Internet? School directory? It’s out there.”
I said, “May I see?”
He nodded. “Figured you’d ask.” He pulled out his phone, tapped on the screen a few times, then handed it to me. He looked away while I watched.
There was no sound, but he was right about the picture quality. It was good, the images clear and crisp, embarrassingly so, and there was no mistaking it was him. And he was right: it was bad.
I looked up at him.
“What in God’s name possessed you to go into that girl’s room?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m screwed, aren’t I?”
“You’ve got a big problem, that’s for sure. So let’s start with the basics: any idea how old that girl is?”
“She’s eighteen. I’m sure of that.”
“How do you know?”
“She just had a birthday—my daughter went to her party.”
“You’re sure? Because if she’s underage, then I have to report it to police and this conversation’s over.”
“I swear. I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t cross that line.”
“Big of you.”
“I know I made a mistake. That’s why I’m here. I just want to know if there’s anything you can do to fix this.”
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“On what you want me to do.”
“I want you to help me.”
“First way I can help is play the middleman and handle the money.”
“You mean I should pay them?”
“That’s right.”
“That’s not what I had in mind.”
“Probably smart. Second way I can help is tell them, on your behalf, to fuck off.”
“Run the risk of them posting it? No way.”
“Why not? What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Everything. Marriage. Ruin me at work.”
“What do you do?”
“Government relations. Work for grocery stores and liquor outlets. Lobbyist, basically.”
“Ever had this kind of problem before?”
“Never,” he said. “That’s why this is so bad.”
“First time for everything.”
He grimaced. “Anything else you can do?”
“Option three is I have a friendly conversation with this girl. Persuade her it’s not in her best interest, and whoever else is involved, to move forward.”
“You could do that? Get them to call it off? Get the video?”
I shook my head. “Not in this day and age. A copy of that video is sitting on a server someplace and somebody’s laptop and probably a flash drive, and that’s just for starters. It’s always going to be out there. You’re going to have to live with that. Best I can do is keep them from posting it.” “Jesus Christ,” Hamilton said. “What’s the good of any of this, then?”
“Good question. I can make a strong argument on your behalf, and we’ll cross our fingers. That’s about all we’ve got right now.”
“There’s no way you could fix this permanently?”
“If by permanently you mean wind the tape back, return to a moment when it hadn’t happened, then no. You’re going to have to accept the possibility that someday the video will surface.”
He went silent. I dipped my muffin in my coffee, took a bite. Looked out the coffee shop window and saw two women jog past. A man walking his dog the other direction turned to check them out. Another jogger, a man, passed the dog walker and checked him out. Sunday in German Village.
I heard Hamilton say, “When could you start?”
“You still want to hire me?”
“Sure,” he said. Then he added: “What other choice do I have?”
“What we already talked about. Go home and tell your wife. Even if you decide we go after them, try to stare them down, it’s better that she knows now. I mean, if your marriage is something you think worth’s saving.”
“I
