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put my elbows on the table and laid my head in my hands. “I have this horrible, empty feeling. And I’m scared to death to confront her, because I feel like if it’s true then I’m going to have this feeling for the rest of my life.”
    Mother made her face even more serious. “Jonathan, I understand what you’re saying. And I know how difficult confrontation is for you. But unless you are going to tell me you don’t care if your wife is sleeping with another man, there just isn’t any option.”
    I let my hands fall to the table with a dull thud. “I want you to tell me I’m crazy, that I must have imagined it, that there’s no way in the world Claire would do such a thing.”
    Mother sighed. “Sweetheart, I wish I could tell you that, but the truth is that sometimes people are capable of things that take you by surprise.”
    I heard a tapping sound beneath me and looked down to find it was my own feet bouncing on the hardwood floors. “I just wish I knew for sure,” I said.
    “Confronting her is the only way to know for sure,” my mother said. “It’s not like you’re going to hire a private detective.”
    I heard my feet stop.
    “Listen, Jonathan,” she said, her voice lower, “you’re a grown man, you can make your own decisions. But don’t do anything crazy.”
    I nodded, and she looked a little relieved. Which suggested she’d interpreted my nod to mean I wouldn’t do anything crazy. But that wasn’t the way I meant it at all.
    WHEN I ARRIVED AT the office I went directly to see Bruce. I found him with his leg on the desk, icing his calf. “Getting old is a bitch,” he said without looking up. “But it won’t stop me from kicking your ass again today.”
    I sat down and stared past him out the window toward the towering skyscrapers of midtown. “Bruce, can I ask you something?”
    “Yeah.”
    “It’s not an easy question.”
    “What is it, man?”
    He is very direct, Bruce. It is his best quality.
    “I want to ask about your marriage,” I said.
    Bruce’s eyes narrowed in a little smile. “This should be interesting.”
    “I find myself wondering . . . about . . . your arrangement . You know. The city?”
    Bruce scratched his chin. “I’m a pretty smart guy, but for the life of me I can’t think of why you would be asking me such a personal question.”
    I desperately didn’t want to get into details. “Something happened,” I said uneasily.
    “You all right, Johnny?”
    “I’m fine. But . . . I have concerns about my marriage. I need a little guidance.”
    “Okay,” Bruce said, stretching out his leg. “I’ll say this: What works for Helen and me may not work for everyone. It doesn’t have to work for anyone else. It just has to work for us. It’s all about boundaries. I do what I do, but never at home and never with anyone that could connect to us.”
    “So, you’re discreet?”
    “That’s a bullshit word, Johnny. I do what I do and I make sure it never winds up in her face. If it does, she takes me for half of everything.”
    I nodded, took a deep breath. “Bruce,” I said even more tentatively. “Do you remember that time with Fernandez?” He nodded. “I need some help of that kind.”
    Bruce leaned closer immediately. “I’m going to give you an address right now. I am not going to write it down, I just want you to remember it.” He told me the address. “He’ll be expecting you in one hour.”
    REGGIE FERNANDEZ HAD BEEN an executive at our firm who departed for a competitor and, we suspected, violated terms of his contract by copying files and other sensitive data before giving his notice. Fernandez worked on my team, so it was me to whom he quit.
    “Fernandez is going across the street,” I had told Bruce. “And between you and me, I don’t have a good feeling about protocol.”
    Bruce nodded. An angry look flashed across his face but only for a moment, then he leaned back in his leather chair. “Disappointing,” he said. “Seemed