A text message in lieu of our nightly phone call? No words, just a photo: a hotel key hanging from one finger and her panties from the other. Whose room? It’s been an hour; the rest of her lingerie must be on the floor by now. Her cell phone goes straight to voicemail, so I call the room number on the key. “Mr James is not answering.” The VP at the Christmas party. She was so tickled by his wit. Just a fuck or earning a promotion? So much for “we always play together.”