It was a good question. He had never cheated on Joan, before now… but he had known, when he had accepted Carla's invitation to this party… that he would do just that! He'd been angry ever since a week ago, when he'd called his wife on the telephone, trying to get her to change her mind. She was stubborn about it. Under no circumstances would she come to see the fight… and that was that! He could get on a plane and come home, right afterward; she'd be there… waiting for him.

All week long, his anger had seethed, just below the boiling point, and he'd had to fight with himself, not to let it affect his training for the fight… or the fight itself. Then, tonight… when Carla had pressed in close to him, seductively rubbing herself up against him, as she told him about the party, he had made up his mind. To hell with it! I'm not climbing onto a plane, tonight! I'll go home tomorrow… or the next day! He had told his manager, in the dressing room, while he was getting his rubdown, to cancel his flight reservations. He'd reschedule them… in a day or two.

Harry Nash hadn't liked the idea. "That little wife of yours'll go haywire… if you don't get home to her!"

"She can wait a couple of days!" Arnie had growled. "I'm going to take it easy… for a while… sit in the sun on the beach and relax."

"You sure you know what you're doing, Arnie?"

"Just cancel the God damned flight, Harry… and get the hell off my back!" he had barked. "Besides," he had added, "training's over… the fight's over… and I'm a free man… for a while!"

"Okay… Baby… it's your party, now," he told Carla, reaching down to cover her hand on his thigh… before she caused him some real embarrassment… right there, in front of everybody. "Let's get the hell out of here!"