The XOXO New Adult Collection: 16 Full Length New Adult Stories (270 page)

“Two girls and a cup,” she said.

I grimaced. “That's gross, Telly.” She snickered and I continued in a more serious tone. “It's true. Men are deeply disturbed. But this guy isn't deviant at all.”

“No. I’m not convinced. There has to be something,” she said.

“But where do I look?”

“You’ve got to get into his phone. Check his text messages and contact list. A guy’s computer is like his bat cave, but men are stupid when it comes to protecting their phones.”

I nodded, thinking of how I could possibly get his phone long enough to look through it all.

“That reminds me,” I said. “Have you heard of Ashley Madison?”

“Marin, I’m a divorce attorney, of course I’ve heard of it,” she said with a mouth full of food. Ashley Madison was an ambiguously named site I had stumbled on during my recent research. Its sole purpose was to help adulterers hook up. Seriously.

“You know they have more than twenty million members?”

“That’s a lot,” she said.

“It’s not a lot, it’s too much. That’s twenty million marriages affected. What’s wrong with our society when we tolerate and encourage this kind of philandering?”

“Marin, this is America, land of the free. We’re inundated with unlimited choices and we’re always gonna keep our options open. It’s the American way.”

“I get that. But, if that’s the case then men should communicate openly about their choice to stay free so they don’t hurt the other person.”

“How many of those twenty million are women?” she asked for the sake of throwing my argument.

“You know as well as I that women don’t cheat for the same reasons as men. It’s not just about the sex.”

“I’ve cheated for sex,” Telly said, disproving my point.

“Were you in a loving, committed relationship?”

She looked up in thought. “No.”

“Then it doesn’t count. Besides you don’t count. You are basically a man with a vagina.”

“Cheers to that,” Telly said, raising her iced tea glass to mine.

After James’ shift at the hospital, he called and invited me to dinner at his apartment. I arrived promptly at six. He greeted me with a welcoming kiss and told me how much he missed me before rushing back to the kitchen where he was preparing Thai curry. I followed him and the spicy aroma to the kitchen.

“Do you need any help?” I asked.

“Nope, I’m all set. Dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes.” He threw peppers into the pot. It certainly was new to have someone cook for me. Chad didn’t know how to make anything other than protein shakes and eggs. The table displayed a romantic setting of candles, wine, and cloth napkins.

“You did all this for me?” I smiled.

“Yeah, I wanted to do something nice for you.” I gave him an appreciative kiss. He stirred the curry, and I stood closely behind him, observing his culinary skills. My eyes wandered about the kitchen, and I noticed his phone sitting on the opposite counter, out of plain sight.

“I’ll be right back, I’m just going to use the bathroom,” I said, inching away from him.

“Okay,” he said, still fixated on his hot pan. I crept over to the other counter and quickly confiscated the phone before disappearing upstairs. My pulse was rapid and I broke a cold sweat. I sat on the edge of the tub and began to look through his text messages. Some were friendly messages from David, guys he played soccer with, and some work related texts. Then I found it. Jackpot
.

I can’t wait to see you Friday. Miss you.

It was from someone named Amanda, and it was sent earlier that day.
Who’s Amanda?
I took a deep breath, washed my hands, and returned to the kitchen. James was still facing the range, so I was able to safely put his phone back. I exhaled, thankful I had gone unnoticed. The find was relieving, but I could use the information to my advantage. That’s when I pulled out an oldie, but goody.

“I forgot to tell you I’m going to a mental health conference this weekend in San Diego. I leave Friday.”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds fun,” he said.

“Uh huh,” I murmured, awaiting his next comment. He took a moment to speak.

“I’ve got a pretty busy weekend coming up, so that works out.” His back still turned away from me. Easy for him to lie when he wasn’t looking at my face, huh? I bet it did work out well for him. He just didn’t know it worked out well for me too.

That week brought me an interesting visit with a couple, The Gartons. Carmen Garton began seeing me about a year prior to deal with some father issues. After working with her for a while, we decided it would be good to bring her husband Seth in the mix to help him understand some of her insecurities and work on their relationship as well. Carmen was unusually suspicious of his whereabouts and often thought he was out using drugs and soliciting prostitutes.

“So did you both do your self-reflection exercise?” I asked.

“Yeah, I have mine here,” Seth said and handed me a manila folder.

“Carmen?” She gave no indication that she was prepared with her exercises.

“I think we should talk about something else,” she said, and I inched forward to listen. “I want to talk about why Seth took five-hundred dollars in cash out of our account on the same day that he claimed to be working late.”

“Seriously, Carmen?” Seth rolled his eyes.

“Carmen, what’s this about?” I asked.

“I know that he’s sneaking off, getting high and blown by hookers.” She turned to Seth. “You disgust me.”

She was perfectly serious and the scenario wasn’t unfamiliar. We were starting to make some progress, but any evidence she stumbled on always regressed her back to square one. Seth shook his head then stood.

“You know what? I’m done.” He turned to me. “We’re here for two seconds and she starts in with this bullshit. I can’t take it anymore. It’s not worth it.” And with that he stormed out. Just another eventful day at Dr. Johns’ office.

“See, I’m right,” Carmen said, staring after him and then turning to me. “He could at least try to explain himself, but he has no real excuse.”

“Are you absolutely sure about that?” I asked.

“Pretty sure, but I’ll be able to prove it soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“I hired a private investigator.”

“Really?”
A private investigator?

“Yeah, I found him in the yellow pages, in the Castro.”

And that was exactly what I needed for the weekend, a private investigator to keep an eye on James while I was “at a conference.” It was perfect.

“Do you have his number?”

––––––––

I
twiddled the business card between my fingers. Ed Rogers, Private Investigator. Life really does change in an instant. Not long ago I was blissfully engaged and unaware. My life was assimilating to that long established path of marriage, babies, and happily ever after with someone I thought I knew. Instead, I’d found myself in a fake relationship, ready to hire someone to follow him undercover like some kind of criminal. Then again, what men do, what James was about to do, was a crime.

In truth, I was excited to close this chapter in my life. With any luck, the PI would be able to confirm my suspicions and this whole thing would be over. What will Holly say when she finds out I not only went through with my plan, but that her brother-in-law’s best friend was the one who proved it right? The mere thought of that proposed victory tasted justifiably sweet. I picked up the phone and set up an appointment for Thursday.

“Did I just hear you make an appointment to meet a PI?” Andy asked as he swooped into my office.
Nosey much?

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop?”

“So, it was a PI.” He seemed proud that he solved the case. I stared at him, silently willing him to leave. “What are you up to, Marin?” he asked.

“You caught me. I hired a PI to stalk you.”

“Nice try. I gotta go. You can tell me the real story later.” He glanced at his watch and left my office. I shut the door behind him and dialed Telly.

“Ello, Bay-bee,” she said in a bad French accent.

“You feel like getting out of town this weekend?” I asked.

“That depends. Where am I going?”

“How about we spend a couple of days at the wine country B&B and spa?”

“Oooh, sounds good. And to what do I owe this pleasure?” she asked in an even worse English accent.

“Short version? You were right about the cell phone. James thinks I’m out of town this weekend, but really I’m hiring a PI to be my eyes and ears.”

“Okay, wow. Well, the answer to your first question is yes, and you can tell me the rest on the way.”

“I’ll book the rooms, you drive.”

How exciting. Not only would I catch James cheating, but I’d also get to relax and enjoy it with Telly at the spa. Ah, life has a funny way of working itself out sometimes.

Thursday afternoon arrived with anticipation for my meeting with the private investigator. The only knowledge I had about PIs was from movies, and I wouldn’t exactly call that knowledge. That day I wore a black suit with a pencil skirt and pumps. If I had worn a fashionable 1940s hat, I could have easily been reminiscent of a bewildered woman wandering into the office of a private detective. Up on the fourth floor, a single door plaque marked his suite. Thankfully, the occasion made me feel theatrical, because I’d have to put on a convincing show for Mr. Rogers. As far as he was concerned, I was just an innocent victim of yet another philanderer. I gathered my thoughts at the door, reviewing my plan. After a deep breath, I swung open the unpredictably lightweight door and nearly took out the bookshelf that stood on the other side of it. I winced at the crashing noise, and for a second I thought I broke the door in half.

“Ms. Johns?” a voice called.

My eyes opened, the door was still intact. In front of me stood an older gentleman with an unkempt mustache and a wrinkled, collared shirt. I regained my composure and glided over to him. “Mr. Rogers, pleasure to meet you.”

We shook hands and he motioned me to take a seat. His small office was packed with a messy desk, bookshelves, filing cabinets, and the smell of stale coffee. He was clearly a one-man operation.

“Would you like some coffee?” he asked, pulling out a carafe of dense black coffee.

“No, thank you.” I smiled. He poured himself a cup and sat down.

“So . . .” He examined me. “You think your boyfriend’s having an affair?”

My eyebrows lifted. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“What makes you so sure?” he asked with an untrusting stare.

“Well, before it was just a gut feeling. You know, a woman’s intuition.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Then I saw a text message on his phone from another woman saying she couldn’t wait to see him this weekend and she missed him.”

His face relaxed. “Well, that is disturbing.”

“If I don’t have hard evidence he’ll only deny it. I’d spy on him myself, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t be very good at it.”

“And so you came to me,” he said.

“Exactly.”

“Well, I’ve had plenty of cases like yours. If there is anything to find, I’ll find it. I just need to get some information, then we’re in business.”

“Great.”

That night I packed my things for the weekend away. Dressed in my pajamas, I settled on the couch with a hot cup of tea and a new episode of my favorite doctor drama. It was about eight-thirty when there was a knock at my door. The unexpected visit startled me enough to spill some of the hot tea on my hand.
Ouch!
I rose slowly from the couch.
This better be good
.

It was James.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” I said as James came in for a big hug.

“I wanted to say goodbye before you left for the weekend.”

“Oh, how sweet,” I said.

“I guess you’re all packed up.”

“Yeah, I am,” I said.
You sneaky son-of-a-bitch
. Coming over to make sure I was leaving for the weekend. Hmm, two can play that game. He only stayed for a few minutes, claiming he’d had a long day working and would see me when I got back.

Telly and I left in the afternoon for Napa, which was only about an hour away. With traffic, we’d be lucky if we made it there in two. After escaping the city, we headed up I-80. I slipped my shades on, took my shoes off, and kicked back for the ride. Telly and I updated each other on the latest news. She told me that Zack Morris finally made a move and things were getting pretty hot between the two of them. I told her all about the mysterious text and my trip to the PI’s office. Forty-five minutes later the conversation ran dry, and I flipped through the radio for something appropriate or at least decent.

“Wait,” Telly said before I could turn the station again. A classic eighties rock piano intro seeped through the speakers. Telly and I knew the song well. She turned it up so loud that it vibrated my chest. We rolled down the windows and sang the verse. I rocked the air guitar while Telly kept the beat on the dashboard drums.

We finally took the exit for Napa and it wasn’t long before we were at the White House Inn and Spa, a white colonial surrounded by beautiful, lush, and green landscaping. The foyer was equally as stunning with a wooden staircase, intricate molding, and soft, warm lighting. My spacious room was painted in cool beige and furnished with dark woods. A king bed near the window was dressed in fluffy white sheets, which swallowed me. Then I remembered James and the reason I was swallowed up in fluffy sheets in wine country. I sent him a quick text.

Made it to San Diego. Having dinner with some colleagues. I’ll call you when I can.

He quickly replied.

Ok, have a great time!

Telly met me in the foyer around seven o’clock for dinner. We headed to Zuzu, a local tapas restaurant we were unfamiliar with, but which came highly recommended. Zuzu had a quaint European feel, and we were seated up on the balcony. The waiter rushed out Telly’s merlot and my pinot grigio. Everything was going fabulously. Fabulous food, fabulous ambiance, fabulous company. I couldn’t have asked for a better girl’s outing until Telly’s face turned a shade of pale.