Do not get distracted!
My eyes fly to his. “What are you doing here?” I demand.
“Saving your ass,” he responds.
“My God, you’re determined. You actually followed me here? To Costa Rica?”
“Hi, I’m Samera.” Samera offers Dominic her hand.
“I got here on my own,” he answers while shaking Samera’s hand.
“I don’t believe that. This is too much of a coincidence.”
“I found out through my sources that Charles had left town. I confirmed with his secretary that she booked a ticket for him to Costa Rica. Then, I learned that Marsha is planning to come here on the weekend, and I knew this was it. I had to make a move before I lost them forever.”
“When did you get here?”
“Yesterday,” he tells me.
“How do you know this guy?” Samera asks.
“He’s the investigator I told you about.”
“Ahh. You’re right. He’s a hottie.”
One of Dominic’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Sam, please—”
Now Dominic faces Samera. “She said I’m hot?”
“Oh, yeah. She said you were the hottest guy she’d seen in a
long
time. That she—”
“Sam,
shut up!
”
“Interesting,” Dominic comments.
“Why is that interesting? Ugh, why do I care? It’s obvious your only interest in me is my husband.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Well, you’re wrong. I want to find him, naturally, but that’s not my only interest in you.”
“Should I give you both a moment?” Samera asks.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Dominic’s gaze locks on mine. We stare at each other for a long while.
“Is that the key?” he asks me. “The key to the condo?”
I shove it in my purse. “That’s none of your business.”
“Don’t be rude, Annie. The guy’s not being an asshole or anything. And he’s cute.”
I shoot Samera a gaze to silence her.
“Listen, about saving your ass,” Dominic begins. “I wasn’t kidding. Charles is in the hotel.”
I dart behind a palm tree. “What?”
“He’s eating lunch. And he’s with a woman.”
“A woman?”
“Young. Pretty. I figure he’ll be occupied for a while.”
“A prostitute,” Samera supplies. “I saw this documentary once, about how rich white Americans love to come here for the underage prostitutes.”
Just last week, the mere thought that Charles could do anything like that would have made me cry. Now I can’t help but laugh. “Not my problem anymore. It’s Marsha’s.” And boy, does the bitch deserve it.
My stomach lurches as I feel a sudden sense of urgency. “Hey, if we’re going to do this, we need to do it now. While he’s occupied. Before he decides to be occupied in his new condo.”
“You’re not doing this without me,” Dominic announces.
“Why not?” I ask.
“For one—an extra person to help out in a situation like this is critical. Two, I have a car. And three, you owe me.”
“Oh, I owe you? How do you figure that?”
“Because the woman your husband is with—she
is
a prostitute. One I hired. She’s slipping Charles sleeping pills as we speak.”
A burst of hard laughter escapes Samera. “I love this guy.”
Dominic stares at me, waiting for my word.
I frown at him, even though inside I’m feeling relieved, and happy that he’s here. “All right,” I say. “Let’s go.”
I
’ve decided there’s only one way to deal with Glenn, and that’s to force him outside of his comfort zone. That comfort zone being the bed he shares with his wife at five in the morning. My hands sweat as the phone on the other end of the line rings. On the third ring, someone picks up.
“Hello?” a woman says, her voice groggy.
“You must be Tess.”
A pause. “Who is this?”
“Oh, I’m Lishelle. A friend of Glenn’s. Actually, an old ex. We go way back. In fact, we got reacquainted recently when he called me up in Atlanta. Is he there?” I finish in a sugary tone.
There’s the sound of a hand covering the phone’s mouthpiece. I hear, “…for you…Lishelle…calling here at this hour?”
Glenn comes to the phone. “Lishelle, hi.” Then, “She’s from the office in Atlanta.”
“…said she was an ex-girlfriend.”
Glenn clears his throat. “Has there been a change with the schedule? Because I’ve taken the week off.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m calling you at home.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“I know, you’re wondering how I found you. But you’re forgetting that I work for one of the biggest networks in the country. Our researchers can find anyone.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ll make this easy for you. My money—you need to return it. Immediately. Because if you don’t, there’s a story here that’s going to break on the weekend about the theft of funds from the Wishes Come True Foundation, and thanks to a little creative bookkeeping, the money you stole from me looks like money you took from the foundation.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” I can’t help sounding smug. “Of course, if by the end of the day all the money you stole from me is deposited back in my account, I’ll do my part and keep your name from the story. If not…”
“I won’t be back until next week.”
“Not my problem. Get your ass out of bed with your wife and go to the bank. Immediately. Because Glenn? I not only have your phone number. I have your address. And your cell number. And your wife’s cell.” I pause to let the reality sink in. He must feel as awful as I did when I realized my checkbook was missing. “Now, I know you could try and take off, but you wouldn’t get far. You’d have to explain to your wife about me, and you don’t want to uproot the kids.”
I hear something like a gasp from Glenn.
“Yeah, I know about the boys. I can just imagine what a beautiful family you have. You do your part, and you won’t fuck it all up.” I sigh happily. “Now, shall I say goodbye to Tess?”
“I’ll take care of it right away,” Glenn says hurriedly and hangs up the phone.
Oh, to be a fly on the wall as he explains who I am to his wife.
Smiling, I replace the receiver on my night table, link my hands behind my head and plop backward onto my bed.
Even if Glenn does get my money to me today—which I have doubts he’ll be able to do—his name will still be linked to the scandal. He deserves no less for everything he did to hurt me. The I-love-you-so-much lie. The I-want-to-spend-the-rest-of-my-life-with-you lie. The elaborate proposal in a house he knew he’d never share with me.
Oh yeah. I’m going to get the jerk, and good.
“Yes!” I punch a fist in the air. And then I laugh my head off.
W
hen I hear the incessant pounding on my door, a smile creeps onto my face. I’m pretty damn sure I know who it is.
I glance at the clock. Nearly 4:00 p.m.
A little later than I expected, given the rumors I heard at the gym earlier today.
Everywhere, everyone was talking about Adam and his appetite for raunchy sex. That and the fact that Arlene’s already called their engagement off.
Oh, payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?
I place the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and pause the DVD on the shot of Will Smith naked in the shower in
I, Robot.
There’s more pounding. I leisurely stroll toward my foyer. I smooth out my skirt—one that makes my legs and ass look fabulous—and then swing open the door.
“Oh,” I say, feigning surprise. “Hi.”
Adam charges into my house. “What the fuck did you do?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m getting calls. From everywhere. People who are saying they saw me with a
stripper?
And there are rumors flying all over the place about me going to swingers’ clubs—”
“Someone must have seen you there. You really should be more careful.”
“You couldn’t just let me go, could you? You had to get vindictive.”
“Letting you go would be one thing. Letting you humiliate me—” I wag a finger in front of his face. “Uh-uh.”
Adam groans and he sinks onto my sofa. “Fuck. Now I’m hearing rumors that the Wishes Come True charity is corrupt. Money’s missing. I don’t know where the hell Charles is. Marsha won’t return my calls. My life is falling apart. There’s no way I can run for mayor now.”
“And you’re telling me this why?”
Adam rises from the sofa and walks toward me. “Because whatever you did, you need to undo it. You’ve got to fix this.”
“I thought that’s why you got with Arlene. To fix your tarnished image.”
Adam doesn’t say anything.
“How could you treat me the way you did, after I loved you so much?” Regret passes over me, but it’s the only weakness I allow myself. Because I don’t want Adam back, no matter how much I loved him. “And now you have the nerve to blame me for your problems?”
“I know you’re the one behind this! You’ve been filling people’s heads with lies!”
“Adam, your own actions are coming back to haunt you. Some things you just can’t hide, no matter how hard you try.”
He grabs me by the shoulders, gripping me hard.
“You’re hurting me, Adam,” I say coolly. “You don’t want me screaming. My parents will hear me. And they’ll call the police. And how will that look for your precious image if the police come here to arrest you?”
Adam stares me down, breathing in and out heavily. Angrily. Then he releases me as if he’s been shocked by a live wire.
“Fuck you, Claudia!”
“Fuck
me?
” I glare at him. “No, fuck you, Adam! You brought all this on yourself. And I, for one, am going to enjoy watching you crash and burn. Now, get the hell out of my house.”