Chapter 10

Emi

“No woman, no cry!” Maren sings horribly off-key, bobbing her head to the reggae music. She’s never been a good singer, and usually it’s fun to listen to her butcher songs because I’m right there with her. However, today, I’m staying quiet on pure principle.

I rip my phone out of my purse and text her a message, refusing to talk to her.

SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Her phone is in the car cradle on the dash, and I smile widely when the message flash across.

“Really, Em? How immature can you be?”

I shrug and look out the window, remaining quiet.

“I said I was sorry! What do you want, for me to write it in blood?”

I tip my head to the side as if I’m actually contemplating it.

“How long are you going to give me the silent treatment? It’s been three days.”

Three days? Hardly enough time for her to pay for what she did. She’s lucky I’m still coming to Myrtle Beach with her. I remember leaving Walker’s house this morning, after another night of nothing but kisses. As I think about it, I get more aggravated.

“Technically, it’s only been two and half days. And you deserve it.” I break my silent treatment. “It’s bad enough you dared me to do that stupid pose, knowing I’d try. It’s equally as bad that I got hurt in the process. But showing Walker the video? Why would you do that? Then drugging me with sleep medicine? For the rest of my life, I’ll always remember the very first time Walker spent the night with me as a blur. I woke up on Thursday morning and almost had an anxiety attack wondering if he ran from me.”

“Again, I’m sorry!”

“You’re lucky he didn’t run.”

“That man’s not going anywhere, Em, no matter what crazy shit you do. He’s a keeper.”

“I know that! However, in the future, can we follow the best friend code and NOT show him evidence of my stupidity and lack of grace that results in injury?”

She purses her lips tightly, her cheeks growing flush. Then she barks out a loud laugh, covering her mouth. I glare at her, not finding anything funny.

“Maren!”

“Come on, where’s your sense of humor? If you’d get over your snit long enough to picture the whole situation, you’d laugh, too.”

I yank her phone off the cradle and swipe through, looking for the video I swore I’d never watch, and hit play. Watching the replay sends a shooting pain to my recovering groin. I view it twice more, and both times imagine Maren in my position. Only then does it become comical.

I try to hold back, but a giggle escapes, turning into a full belly laugh. I’ll never say the words out loud, but she’s right. It is kinda funny.

“Fine, I’ll accept your apology.”

“Thank God, it’s boring when you ignore me.”

“I didn’t ignore you. I’ve answered every one of your texts.”

“It’s not the same. I need a good download of your life since I left Wednesday night. How are things with Walker?”

“Perfect.”

“What did you tell him about today?”

“I used the Carlton excuse but did mention you were rewarding me with a few spa treatments.”

“Good one.”

“Well, it’s not totally a lie. I made us appointments for massages and pedicures this afternoon.” I grin smugly at her. “Your treat.”

“Actually, it’s Trixsters’ treat,” she throws back.

“Fair enough.”

“You have everything we need for tonight, right?”

“Triple checked this morning. We are good to go.”

My phone rings, and my stomach flip-flops when I see Walker’s name.

“Hey,” I answer cheerily.

“Hey, how’s the trip?”

“Well, if you don’t count the audiology bill I’m facing because of Maren’s horrible singing, it’s going good. We’re about thirty minutes away.”

“She that bad?”

“Cats in heat have more melody than she does.”

“Hey!” She smacks my thigh. “I’m not that bad.”

“Yes, you are,” I argue.

“Sounds like you two are back to normal.” He chuckles, the husky sound warms me inside.

“I’m calling a truce today. Who knows about tomorrow?”

“Speaking of tomorrow, when will you get back?”

“We should be back mid-afternoon.”

“You want an easy night in or to go out to dinner?”

My heart swells at the question. There’s no pretense, no hesitation, only the understanding that we’ll be together tomorrow night.

“Easy night in,” I answer.

“You got it. I’ll throw something on the grill. Call me when you get home and I’ll come get you.”

“I can drive over. It’s much easier than you having to go out of your way.”

“You’re never out of my way. Think you can be ready by five?”

“Five is perfect.”

“Be safe, Emi. You girls stay out of trouble.”

“How much trouble can we get into, getting pampered, drinking copious amounts of alcohol, and talking about boys?”

“For some reason, I think the two of you find trouble.”

“That sounds highly insulting.”

“Emi, in the time I’ve known you, you’ve had your car keyed to shit and sprained your groin, both times with Maren.”

“As you’ve plainly seen, Maren is the troubled one. None of this is my fault.”

She slaps my leg again, mouthing for me to shut up.

“Get back to me in one piece with no problems and I’ll rethink my stance.”

“I’ll try,” I reply snidely.

“Gorgeous, lose the attitude.”

“I don’t have an attitude, but I do think I have plans tomorrow night and am busy.” As soon as I say it, I regret being so childish.

“Yeah, you have plans with me.”

“Maybe.”

“Damn, you’re cute.”

“I’m not cute! I’m being serious.”

“See you at five tomorrow.”

“Maybe,” I repeat.

“Do me a favor and bring that sass home with you.” He disconnects before I can respond.

“Ugh…” I drop the phone in my purse.

“How’d that work out for you?”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t chase him away quite yet.”

“I’m not chasing him away. I just don’t want to be known as trouble.”

“Emi, get real. He knows about your mom’s prayer circle. He’s seen you in action, blasting Oliver at the station, and he’s met our friends, all of this before he paid me a hundred dollars and asked you out. Two dates in and y’all have nightly sleepovers. You are who you are, and he seems to like your version of trouble.”

I think about what she’s said and the real reason for this trip. What would he do if he knew what we are up to?

“He told me to bring my sass home with me.”

“Well, that’s a good sign. Maybe you’ll finally get laid.”

“I know. Can we please make sure I don’t injure anything below the waist on this trip? “

“We can do that.”

“All right then, let’s get a game plan.”

“Twirl it to the right a little,” Maren instructs me, until I have the pen pointing in exactly the right direction. “Got it, I think it’s safe to come back to the room now, give them some privacy.”

I casually gather my magazine and phone, dropping them into my oversized bag, and adjust my fake square-rimmed glasses. Careful not to knock the pen as I leave, I pass the Jacuzzi where Cyndi Trek and her boyfriend are cozied up. My departure leaves them totally alone for the first time since they came down from their room.

We already have several pictures of them, but nothing evidential of cheating. However, it looks like we may get our lucky shot here. The instant I’m out of sight, I hear a girly giggle followed by a moan. By the time I make it to our room, Maren has the video streaming from the camera hidden inside the pen. It gets darker with nightfall, but the area is lit with dim in-ground lights that allow us great visibility. Cyndi and her boyfriend don’t disappoint, giving us everything we need. Their bodies fuse together, her back to the camera rocking up and down. His hands roam up her back, into her hair and pulling her to kiss them. The audio quality isn’t the best, but there are distinct grunts and groans.

I take out my earbud, remove the glasses, and throw my blonde wig in a pile on the bed. “I can’t believe they’re going at it in the open. That’s ballsy.”

“It is, but it’s off season. This hotel is practically vacant. Considering they spent the last four hours holed up in their room, I’m surprised they even have the energy to go at it like this.”

“Maybe voyeurism is a turn on?”

“True, but looks like they’re coming to a finish. Pun intended.”

“Ugh, gross.” I crinkle my nose as Cyndi throws back her head with a moan loud enough for the audio to pick up. Her boyfriend follows soon after with his own groan.

They stay together for several minutes, kissing some more and then righting their suits before getting out. Her diamond wedding set flashes bright on her hand.

I grab my own computer and search for the discovery email from Mr. Trek. Maren told me the basic details, but I never read his story. After witnessing Cyndi’s tryst, my heart bleeds for the man.

Mr. Trek explained they’ve been married nine years, but he noticed changes about six months ago. She joined the gym and hired a trainer, started losing weight and spending more time away from the house. He’s tried to get her to talk to him, knowing something was happening, but she insisted he was overreacting. Then, two weeks ago, he found a shopping bag with lingerie hidden under her back seat.

He waited patiently for her to show him any sort of affection, holding hope that the lingerie was a sign she was rekindling their diminishing intimacy. The time never came. Then she approached him with the trip to Myrtle Beach, presenting it as a fitness and wellness retreat. That’s when he emailed us.

Maren was able to hack into Cyndi’s email and confirm there was no retreat scheduled for this weekend in Myrtle Beach. There was, however, forwarded confirmations for this hotel.

He asked for absolute evidence if she was cheating. He needed something hard and concrete because he was going for primary custody of their son.

I get the impression he thinks he’s dealing with a man on this assignment because, in one of his emails, he says, ‘I’ve been told you are the best man for the job.’

Maren and I agree this is a good thing. It’s one more layer of our anonymity.

“Okay, I’m going to get the pen so we can download the information.” She throws on a hoodie and starts to lace her tennis shoes. “Be back soon.”

I turn my attention to her computer screen and watch a few minutes later as she comes into view. She jogs right past the Jacuzzi, stopping at the table I was sitting at earlier, and pretends to tie her shoelace. To anyone watching, it looks like she’s out for an evening run, but I know the instant she swipes the pen because the screen goes black.

While I wait for her to get back to the room, I consider calling Walker, maybe apologizing for acting snitty. Instead, I lift my feet in the air and snap a picture of my freshly polished, electric blue toenails and text it to him.

Me- Perfectly safe… Massages and pampering was fun. See? No trouble here.

I hit send and wait less than five seconds before the bubbles appear and I know he’s replying.

Walker- Night is still young. Who knows what can happen? Get back to me with no incidents and we’ll talk.

Me- You’re going to eat your words. We’re being angels and thoroughly behaving.

Walker- Get back to me with no incidents, and I’ll be eating more than my words.

Holy Shit! My stomach and chest constrict at the same time, sending a thrill up my spine. I picture him lying on his sofa watching his gigantic TV in his athletic shorts and nothing else, that damn tattoo on display that begs me to touch it every chance I get. My fingers tingle at the thought. I type my response before losing my courage.

Me- Is that a promise? Or a tease?

Walker- I don’t tease

I grow a little bolder, biting my lip as I respond.

Me- I could disagree. Maybe we should go on that stakeout?

Walker-You’re playing with fire

Me- Who’s playing?

Walker- In about 20 hours, we’ll see who’s playing

Me- Can’t wait

Walker- Waiting isn’t my style

Me- Could have fooled me.

Walker- Tomorrow, 5 p.m.

Me- Goodnight, Walker

Walker- Night, Emerson

The door opens, and Maren eyes me wearily. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re flushed, like really flushed.”

“I was flirting with Walker.”

She rolls her eyes and goes back to her computer. Once the information is uploaded, she loads it to Dropbox for my records. We each log into our assigned VPN Proxy servers and send Mr. Trek the information from today. When that’s complete, she emails the remainder of our invoice.

“Done.” She shuts down her computer and sits across from me on her bed. “What now?”

“Now, we order room service and watch really bad TV.”

“Deal.”

Two hours later, we’re tipsy, cackling uncontrollably as we watch the train wreck unfolding on Bad Girls Club.

One thing is for sure, no matter what Maren and I get into, we have nothing on these crazy women. Both of us jolt out of bed when we hear the banging in the hall. Together, we creep to the door and crack it open to see several men in a semi-circle in the hallway. I recognize Mr. Trek, who knocks forcefully on the door in front of him.

“Oh shit, I guess he got the video,” Maren whispers and crouches down, lodging herself below me to get a better view.

The boyfriend from earlier opens the door, clearly drowsy, and is ready to yell until he sees who it is.

“Tell my wife I’m in the hallway,” Mr. Trek informs the man who disappears out of sight.

Cyndi appears, visibly shaken, pale as a sheet, and clutching her robe around her. “Rob—” she starts but closes her mouth when Mr. Trek raises his hand for silence.

He jerks his chin to the men in suits, who go to the elevator and haul suitcases back, lining them against the wall.

“You’ll find all of your personal belongings have been packed. If anything was left behind, you can have your lawyer contact mine and I’ll have them shipped to wherever you are. As of tonight, you are not welcome back in our home unless invited. I suggest you hire counsel soon so we can make this as swift and painless as possible. There’s five thousand dollars in your personal account. I’ve canceled all our joint credit cards, and the bank has been given instructions for any withdrawals to have my approval.” He’s stone still, his voice full of so much acid and fury, I get a chill.

“What are you doing, Rob? Let me explain.”

“Let you explain what, Cyndi? How hours ago, you fucked a man in a public hot tub with my fucking wedding rings shining in the light?”

Her face goes even whiter at his declaration. “How did you—? What do you think you saw—?”

“Save me the stupidity. How and what is inconsequential. I gave you a chance to explain what was happening in your head. That time is over. We are over. I told you when we dated, I have room for a lot of things, but infidelity is not one.”

“You can’t be serious.” She tightens her robe and glances around, becoming aware of the audience of men.

“I’m dead serious.”

“Can’t we talk about this like civilized adults? You can’t understand how I feel. You’re never around. My life became nothing but play dates and corporate dinner parties. I wanted to feel wanted, loved.”

“Wrong thing to say, Cyndi. I’m around, always have been. You and Billy are my life. You were always wanted and very loved. But don’t worry about play dates and corporate events anymore. I’m lifting that burden from you.”

“You can’t take my son.” She grows angry, her eyes burning into him.

“No, I won’t take your son, because no matter what, I think he needs a mother. But I’m going after full custody and limited visitation until you get your life straight and settled. He will not be exposed to your whoring around.”

The weight of his words sinks in, and her shoulders sag as she starts to tremble. “You can’t take my son.” Her voice cracks.

“I gave you everything in my power, Cyndi, a beautiful home, high-end cars, expensive trips—anything you wanted. All I asked for in return was for you to love me and take care of our family. That’s all I ever wanted. If you couldn’t do that, you should have come to me.”

“Rob, please don’t do this.”

“It’s done. Have your lawyer contact mine.” He turns to leave but stops mid-twist and snaps his fingers, returning to face her. “I like that robe, Cyndi. Liked it when I found it hidden in your car as well. Hope your new boyfriend got a kick out of fucking you endlessly in the lingerie I paid for. That’s the last luxury you’ll ever get out of me.”

On that, he spins and walks away, leaving Cyndi to fall into a wailing heap on the floor. Her boyfriend appears at her side, trying to console her.

Quietly, we back away and shut our door.

“That was… intense.” Maren stands, looking a little pale herself.

“You okay?”

“Yes, but I think I may have just fallen in love with Rob Trek. Did you see him? Dominant, powerful, no-nonsense, and unforgiving. It was totally hot.”

“Are you still drunk?”

“Maybe, but Cyndi’s a dumbass.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s stupid.”

“This is going to sound morbid, because in less than two weeks, we’ve torn apart two marriages, but we’re kinda good at this.”

I nod in agreement. It may be morbid, but we are good at this.