by Sarah Curtis
She couldn't think of any.
Plopping down on the edge of the bed, she looked down at the incriminating paper clutched tightly in her fingers. She needed to think things through. Make sure he was really doing something sordid before accusing him of anything. She'd jumped to the wrong conclusion a few times already and didn't want to do so again.
Or had she?
Falling to her side, she grabbed one of her husband's pillows and brought it to her chest, hugging it close and burying her face to smell his scent. But she didn't think anything could soothe the rolling queasiness in her stomach or lighten the heaviness of her heart. Her mind churned, thinking about what she should do, and could only come up with one solution to be absolutely sure he was innocent.
And it was way worse than trying to snoop through his phone or scoping out little old ladies.
She was going to spy on her husband.
Mind made up, she reached for her phone to call Mia.
≈≈≈≈
"Babe, have you seen my navy tie with the beige stripe?" Garrett asked, stepping out of the closet fully dressed in one of his nicest suits minus the jacket he held in his hand.
He looked nice. No, he looked better than nice, he looked fantastic. Looking as if he put forth extra effort, his hair was perfectly styled without a hair out of place. Freshly shaven, his strong jaw was more pronounced and the color of the shirt he'd selected brought out the blue of his eyes.
Her stomach dropped at the overall package because today was Friday. Meet at the hotel day.
"Um, I think it may be at the cleaners."
"Damn. I wanted to wear it today."
It was his favorite tie. Ali knew this because he wore it the most often.
"You have the navy one with the burgundy stripe. That one would go nicely," she said, hating to be helpful. Nothing like "gift wrapping" her husband for her replacement.
"I guess that one will do," he said, tossing his jacket on the bed and disappearing back into the closet.
Ali finished rushing through her morning routine then headed downstairs to get breakfast started, yelling at her son on her way past his room. "Noah, you'd better be up and getting dressed. Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes and your butt better be in the kitchen."
She heard a mumbled reply. She hated being so strict, but seriously, her son would sleep until noon if given a chance. She'd learned the hard way, tough love was needed to deal with Noah in the mornings.
She'd just popped a couple of frozen waffles into the toaster and was pouring herself a cup of coffee when two hands landed on her hips, startling her and causing her to spill coffee on the counter.
Garrett's butter-smooth voice filled her ear. "You okay? You seem a little frazzled this morning."
Tearing off a paper towel from the roll, she mopped up her spill. "I'm no more frazzled than any other morning before coffee."
He chuckled, kissing her neck just below her ear. He took a small sidestep reaching over her head to grab a travel mug from the cupboard. "I'll be late again tonight."
"What? Why?" She threw the paper towel onto the counter and folded her arms across her chest.
"It's our monthly board meeting. You know those things run late."
She quickly ran through her memory and couldn't remember a time they'd ever had a board meeting on a Friday night. It had to be more than just a coincidence he had that appointment and was working late.
"But the kids are going to your parents, and we'll have the house to ourselves," she persisted.
Garrett took the coffeepot from her and filled his mug. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I don't have the power to change the meeting. We'll do something special tomorrow night instead." He capped his mug then brushed his lips against hers. "Gotta go. If I don't answer my phone, leave a message, and I'll call you back."
"Why wouldn't you answer your phone?" she called out to his retreating back, but he didn't answer as he left the kitchen, and a few seconds later, she heard the door to the garage slam.
≈≈≈≈
"Oh... my God... what are you wearing?" Mia asked between bursts of belly laughter.
Ali looked down at herself. Black leggings and a black, long-sleeved, turtleneck tee covered almost every inch of her skin. She'd slicked her hair back into a low ponytail and wore the biggest sunglasses she could find, the lenses covering half her face.
"What?" She was slightly affronted. She'd thought she'd done a good job. She would blend into the shadows, and no one would recognize her.
"I'll repeat, this isn't Mission Impossible or a James Bond movie." Mia still had a ridiculous grin on her face.
"This is what people wear when doing things like this," Ali argued her case.
"Only at night when it's dark. Ali, the sun is shining, and where we're going people will be dressed to the nines. You'll stick out like an Eskimo at a nudist colony."
"Does anyone really stick out standing next to a nudist?"
"Well, maybe not, but you know what I mean."
"I's thinks mommy looks pretty," Emma chimed in her two cents.
"Thank you, baby." Ali ran her fingers through her daughter's soft curls.
Then Mark walked into the room, and she lost her daughter's attention. "Uncle Mark," Emma squealed running to the larger-than-life man and hugging his tree-trunk-sized leg.
"Hey, munchkin." His rich baritone filled the room as he leaned down swooping Emma up in his arms. "Callie's been waiting for you all morning. Should we go find her?"
"Yes!" Emma exclaimed, pounding him on the shoulder.
Mark's gaze hit Ali and Mia. "I don't even want to know what you girls are up to." Shaking his head, he turned and left the room.
Mia looked over at Ali breaking out in a laugh. "He really doesn't."
Ali's giggle burst forth. Shaking her head, she agreed, "No, he doesn't."
≈≈≈≈
After a makeover session in Mia's closet—where, Ali ended up wearing a gauzy, swishy, flowered-print skirt and cream, silk blouse—they were ready to go.
It had taken twenty minutes to drive from Mia's neighborhood to the swanky hotel, and in that time, they'd argued about what they would do once they got there. All they had to go on was a date, time, and location. But Ali hadn't taken into account how large the hotel was and how they were going to locate Garrett in it.
Then Ali had an idea. "All phones have tracking capability these days, his should, especially since I just bought him the latest model."
"Do you even know how to activate something like that?" Mia asked, flicking on her right-turn signal and merging into the turning lane.
"I'm sure it's just an app. Everything is an app nowadays." Ali took out her phone and pulled up the app store. After a minute, she said, "It seems easy enough."
Mia smacked the steering wheel. "There you go, problem solved."
"It also says the phone you're tracking needs to have its locator turned on." Ali moved her gaze from her phone to her friend. "I'm not sure if it is."
"Only one way to find out."
Ali hit the download button then watched the progress bar fill. "Okay, fingers crossed this works." She opened the app and typed in Garrett's phone number. A screen appeared. "It's not very detailed. We already know what hotel he's at, and it's not giving me any more info than that," Ali said with a sigh of frustration.
"Maybe it'll get more detailed the closer we get to him." Mia took a right then promptly swore as some guy cut her off.
"If not, we need a Plan B." Ali went silent, staring at her friend.
Mia flicked her eyes to Ali. "Why are you looking at me?"
"Because I'm out of ideas, and you haven't come up with one yet."
Mia shook her head. "No way, you're the devious one of our daring duo. I'm just the sidekick along for the ride." Mia took a left into the hotel parking lot. "But it doesn't matter because we're here and have no time left to plan a Plan B."
Ali got out of the car and pulled up the app while Mia came aro
und to her side.
"What does it say?" she asked, trying to peer over Ali's shoulder. "Well, the good news is, he hasn't left the hotel. The bad news is, both our phone dots are practically on top of each other, so I don't think we'll be able to pinpoint his exact location."
Mia looked around the parking lot. "Do you see his car?"
After a quick search, Ali shook her head. "I'm sure this isn't the only parking lot, though."
Mia took Ali's hand. "Come on, let's move in closer."
Turned out, they didn't need a tracking app after all. As they approached the side of the hotel, Ali saw Garrett, sitting in a booth, through a window that looked into the hotel's restaurant.
Quickly yanking Mia's arm, she ducked them behind a shrub.
"What the hell—"
"Shush! Not so loud." Ali held a finger to her lips. "I just saw Garrett."
Mia craned her neck around the bush. "What? Where?" she whisper-yelled.
Ali pulled her back. "He's in the restaurant. I saw him through the window."
"Then why are we whispering? He can't possibly hear us from there."
Ali paused before replying, "Best not to take any chances."
Mia giggled, shaking her head. "Did you see who he was with?"
Ali shook her head. "I didn't get a chance to before I freaked out."
"Okay, then that's our next step."
Ali shook her head again. "He's facing the window. He'll see us for sure."
"So what do you want to do?"
Ali looked around the opposite side of the bush. "There're more windows over here. If we look through one of these, Garrett's back will be to us, but we'll be able to see who he's sitting across from."
"Okay, and then what?"
Ali chewed on her thumbnail. "I don't know. What if he's with another woman?" Ali closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Oh, God, I didn't think this through. Do I really want to know? No, don't answer that. Of course, I want to know." She felt a hand grab her arm and opened her eyes.
Mia was giving her a stern look. "But remember, we can't jump to conclusions even if he is with a woman. It could be a perfectly platonic business meeting."
"How will we know?"
"We need to watch them for a few minutes. Believe me, we'll be able to tell."
"Okay. Let's do this." Ali was talking more to herself than Mia, giving herself a pep talk and mentally preparing herself for the worst.
God, what if he really were with another woman? The moment felt so surreal. She honestly hadn't thought that was a real possibility until just then. Sure she'd had her suspicions, but they were just that. Suspicions. But, now, she was about to find out the truth, and in true Jack Nicholson style, she wasn't sure she could handle it.
They edged around the bush and looked through the window. Ali stood on her tiptoes trying to get a clear shot, with Mia—a good five inches taller—standing behind her.
"Can you see over the booth?" Ali asked, doing a little hop to see better.
"Barely. I can only see the tops of their heads."
"Well, does it look like a man's top of a head or a woman's?"
"I'm not sure if I'm looking at the right table. You said Garrett was across from the other person, but both these people are on the same side."
Ali was growing impatient and needed to see for herself. "Boost me up."
"Boost you up?"
"Yeah, lace your fingers together and give me a boost."
"What?" Mia asked, looking bewildered.
"You know like you're helping me onto a horse."
"I've never ridden a horse."
Ali sighed in exasperation. "Neither have I, but you've seen a western movie."
"Girl, John Wayne never needed no help getting onto his horse."
"Mia, just do it! The suspense is killing me."
Mia laced her fingers and leaned over so Ali could step up on her open palms. Ali grasped the window ledge, trying not to give Mia all of her weight then stuck her nose millimeters away from the glass to get a good look inside.
Mia had been right. Garrett was now on the other side of the booth. And sitting next to him was a beautiful brunette. Ali felt her heart sink into her stomach.
"Can you see anything?" Mia whispered from below her.
"He's sitting next to a woman. God, Mia, she's gorgeous." Ali felt tears threatening, but she refused to give them rein until she knew what the hell was going on.
"What are they doing?"
Ali stared at the couple, not even daring to blink. "So far, they're just talking."
"Well, that's good. Maybe it is just a business meeting."
"Why is he sitting next to her?"
"Maybe they needed to go over some paperwork or something. Does it look like they're reading anything or looking down at something?"
Ali pressed her face closer, her nose now touching the glass. "It does look like maybe there're papers spread out in front of them."
"See. I'm sure it's noth—"
"Wait." Ali cut her off. "She just laid her hand on his forearm. And she's laughing. Oh, shit."
"What?"
"Garrett's laughing now, too, and he just patted her hand. He's letting her keep it on his arm." Like a bad car wreck, she couldn't look away from the scene in front of her.
She heard Mia ask into the silence. "What's happening now?"
"They've both stood up. I think I'm going to be sick. She's standing way too close to him, and he's leaning down so he can hear what she's saying. God, Mia, I don't think I can watch anymore."
And just as she'd said that, Garrett's head swiveled, looking toward the window, his eyes trained right on her. Rearing back, she lost her balance, falling into the bush behind her and becoming entangled in the branches.
"Shit, Ali, are you okay?"
Was she? Nothing hurt. "I think so. Help me up." Ali held out her hand, and Mia grabbed it.
"What the hell happened?" Mia asked as they both struggled to untangle her from the bush.
"Garrett looked out the window. I don't think he could see through the glass with how bright it is inside and how dark it is out here from all the bushes, but it startled me nonetheless."
Mia gave her hand a tug, and she felt a pain tug her scalp. She yelped a panicked, "Wait!"
"What?" Mia released her hand and Ali sank back into the bush.
"I think my hair is caught." Ali felt along the back of her head, trying to discover where she was snared. She heard a few ripping sounds but was more concerned about what else could be in the bush with her, and her desire not to find out. "Okay, I think I got it loose." She held out her hand again. "Help me out, quick."
Mia tugged. Hard. And Ali came stumbling out, feeling quite a bit more air conditioned than when she fell in. She looked down at herself. Her blouse had a long rip down the side and was hanging half off her body. Or should she say Mia's blouse.
Ali gave her a guilty look. "I'll buy you a new one, promise."
Mia waved a hand. "Don't worry, it's an old blouse."
"What am I going to do? I can't walk across that big-ass parking lot like this." Ali said with a note of panic.
Mia pulled the blouse off. "Take off your bra."
What? Had she lost her mind? "I'm not flashing my boobs."
"It's only flashing if there's someone around to see." Mia waved a hand. "There's no one here."
Ali waved a hand right back. "We're standing next to a window."
"That no one can see out of."
"That was just a theory, Mia," Ali bit out.
"Just do it. I have an idea."
"Why do I feel like I get the short end of the stick every time you utter the words, I've got an idea?" But she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra.
Quick as a flash, Mia had the waistband of her skirt up and over her boobs, so she now wore her skirt like a tube top.
"Wow, that's so much better. I won't draw any attention walking through the parking lot like this." It was hard to miss the sarc
asm dripping from her words.
"Shut up. I'm not finished."
Ali watched as Mia further ripped the blouse and twisted it into a rope. She then tied the makeshift belt around her waist. Heck, it didn't look half bad.
"One last thing, and then we can go." Mia tugged the rubber band from Ali's hair then fluffed it around her shoulders. "There, good as new."
They hurried through the parking lot, Ali trying to discreetly hide her bra in the folds of her now really short skirt. It was an expensive one from Victoria's Secret, and there was no way she was leaving it behind.
It wasn't until they were halfway home and the ramifications of what she'd just witnessed had finally set in that the tears started to flow. And she had a feeling they wouldn't be stopping anytime soon.
≈≈≈≈
Ali stared googly-eyed as a half-naked Channing Tatum strutted his fine self across the stage to the beat of Ginuwine's Pony. Mia whooped and hollered at the big screen TV from beside her on the couch. They were well into a second pitcher of margaritas and Ali was definitely feeling the effects.
Too emotionally distraught to go home after the fiasco at the hotel, Mia had suggested Ali spend the night at her house. Being the respectful wife—though why she cared she didn't know—she'd texted Garrett her plans, and upon receiving a cheerful "Have fun" complete with a happy-face emoji as a response, she'd wanted to throw her phone against the wall. Instead, she'd spent the afternoon crying herself into a mindless stupor until she'd needed to get her act together to pick Noah up from school and drop both kids off at her mother-in-law's for the weekend.
Now, hours later, back in her comfortable leggings and tee with a pitcher of margs in her stomach, she was feeling almost—well, mostly—better.
"For a white boy that man can move." Mia took a large gulp of her drink, her eyes never leaving the screen.
Ali polished off her own glass and nodded vigorously in response to Mia's statement as she reached for the pitcher. She fell off the couch with a thud then started giggling.
