“See you tomorrow, Jerry.” Shawn passed his fellow salesman on the lot.

Jerry glanced at his watch. “You’re leaving early today. What gives?”

“I have a thing, and I’m late for it.” Shawn hurried up his steps.

He wasn’t late, in fact, he was leaving an hour earlier than needed, but it was none of Jerry’s fucking business where he was going.

If word got out about Shawn joining a support group for jilted men, he would become the laughing stock of the dealership. It would be like admitting that he’d gotten his dick cut off and had grown a pussy.

Deciding to check it out had surprised him too. Something in that Facebook ad had resonated with him, touched a sore spot, and the only way he could think of getting rid of that soreness was to go there and make a mockery out of all the sad saps who showed up.

In the end, the joke was on him. A few of the guys were obvious losers, but the majority were other angry men like him. Shawn had felt right at home. He wasn’t the only one who felt like a ticking bomb. There were others like him.

The coolest part was the shrink. That dude not only understood Shawn and the other guys, but he also approved of their anger and their right to vengeance.

There was none of the hippie-dippie nonsense about forgiving and forgetting and moving on. The guy got it that it was not going to happen until revenge had been exacted.

Today was the second meeting, and Shawn couldn’t wait for another session. He only hoped that none of the pussies came back.

His trip to Aussie was the first step in tracking his wife. He didn’t give a shit about the divorce papers. Callie belonged to him. He owned her and her whoring cunt. She would learn that the hard way.

Her phone was still at the restaurant. The battery was long dead, but he knew where she’d left it. One of the waitresses called asking if she was coming back to work and if not if it was okay to clear her locker. Which meant she hadn’t told her coworkers about her plans.

He’d told Kati, or whatever the cunt’s name was, that Callie had had an emergency back home, something about her father, and that she’d had to leave unexpectedly, but that he would come to collect her things.

A perfect excuse to question the other cunts working there.

As he entered the restaurant, he stopped by the hostess.

“How many in your party?” She flipped her hair back as she smiled at him.

The cunt was fuckable, and he would’ve gladly done her if not for the charade he needed to keep up. Callie’s devoted husband wouldn’t fuck her coworker.

“I’m here for my wife’s things. Callie. Is there anyone who can help me with that?”

Her smile turned into concern. “What happened to her? Nothing bad, I hope?”

Not yet, but something bad was going to happen to her soon.

“Callie is fine. It’s her father. She had to go home, and she has no idea when she’d be able to come back.”

The hostess shook her head. “It must be really bad if she didn’t even call to let us know she wasn’t coming in for her shift.”

Shawn plastered on an apologetic expression. “You know how it is when a family crisis hits and they need you. Everything else gets forgotten.”

“Yes, of course. I understand. Let me get Kati for you. She can help you.”

“Thank you. Your help is much appreciated.”

“Of course.” The chick hurried to get the other one.

A few moments later, she came back with another hot piece of ass. He should’ve come here when Callie had asked him to. She’d failed to mention how hot some of her coworkers were. Apparently, she’d failed to mention a lot of things. Like the guys she’d been screwing on the side.

“I’m Kati. You’re Callie’s husband?” The hottie offered her hand.

“Shawn.”

“Nice to meet you. Follow me.” She kept talking while leading him to wherever Callie’s things were. “So weird the way she took off and forgot her phone. Who forgets her phone?”

“It was probably out of charge. Callie never remembers to charge it.” Shawn wondered if his affectionate tone was fooling the waitress. She looked smart, smarter than his fucking wife.

At the employee room, she pointed at an open cardboard box sitting on top of one of the tables. “It’s only her phone and a couple of Aussie T-shirts. We all keep spares just in case. People are so clumsy. Someone can bump into you while you’re carrying a tray, and boom, you’re covered in BBQ sauce.”

Shawn shook his head in fake commiseration. “Tell me about it. I also work with customers. What a nightmare.”

“What do you do?”

He was glad that Callie hadn’t told them anything about him. The question was why? Had she been ashamed of him?

Nah. He was handsome and made good money. Any other woman would’ve been bragging about what a catch she’d landed.

“I sell luxury vehicles.”

Kati put her hand on her hip. “Rich people are the worst, treating everyone as if they are beneath them, and they don’t tip well. Unless they are celebrities. Those are the best tippers because they still remember being poor, just like us.”

The waitress was talkative, which was good, but Shawn didn’t know how to steer the conversation to Callie and whoever she’d been meeting at Aussie.

After mulling over it for days, he decided there was no other place she could’ve managed a secret affair. He’d known where she was every minute of the day, and she’d never spent long at the supermarket or even clothes shopping. She hadn’t gone to nail salons or gotten facials either, and she’d had her haircuts at Supercuts. She must’ve been meeting her lovers at Aussie.

“Who was your best tipper? Anyone famous?”

“I’m not sure he was a celebrity, but he left a huge tip. In cash. He looked like a rock star, with long blond hair and a body to die for. You should know him. Callie said he was her cousin from Scotland.”

“Right. That cousin. I think he plays in a band.” Shawn was putting on the best performance of his life. He deserved a fucking Oscar for keeping his murderous rage bottled up and smiling like an idiot. “I keep forgetting his name. Do you remember it?”

Kati scratched her scalp. “Nope. Nothing comes up. It’s like a black hole in there. Let me ask Susan. Maybe she remembers.”

“Much appreciated. It’s so embarrassing. Callie must’ve told me his name at least ten times and I still keep forgetting it.”

As Kati walked out, Shawn paced the small room, counting numbers to keep himself from exploding. His face felt hot.

A few minutes later Kati came back. “Sorry, Shawn, Susan doesn't remember his name either. She doesn't even remember what he looks like, which is really strange because a guy looking like that sticks in a woman’s memory.” She winked. “But she remembered something about him that I forgot. Susan says he sounds like a robot or a computer. Flat.”

Something about a guy who sounded like that tugged at Shawn’s memory. But when he tried to focus, it felt as if needles were being shoved into his brain. Shaking his head, he tried again, but again lost the thread and the headache got worse.

“Anything else I can help you with?” Kati asked.

“Thank you. You were most helpful. I’ll just take the box.”

“Tell Callie we miss her and to come say hi when she’s back. Also, that I pray for her father’s health.”

“I will. You’re a good friend.”