Page 7 of Dirty Rotten Cheating Husband

Nope.

The date we’d met.

Nope.

Damn! My fingers hovered over the phone. I thought about doing a date for either of his parents, but I didn’t know much about them.

What did I even know about my husband?

He didn’t want to talk about his job. He didn’t want to talk about his past.

I only had one more attempt until I’d be locked out.

Forcing my pounding heart to slow down, I typed in

2008.

The date his NY Giants had won the Super Bowl with that helmet catch.

Click.

I was in.

Maybe that wasn’t the most romantic date, but that didn’t mean anything, right?

There were no text messages and his email was password protected. Desperately, I flipped to Find my Friends.

I was surprised to see a little dot on the screen.

Grayson had said it was work policy not to have tracking on his phone. But he was showing up!

He was at the Greenbriar Luxury Suites.

Now why was he there?

I felt a prickling uneasiness break out all over my skin, a wave of panic washing over me, my heartbeat pounding in my chest.

My ears felt funny, like I couldn’t hear properly.

What in the world was going on? For a moment I contemplated hiding under my covers and pretending like nothing was wrong.

But I knew I had to find out. Whatever this was, I was getting to the bottom of it.

So I grabbed my car keys and headed over.

As I parked and walked inside, I tried to shake off this feeling of dread.

Come on, did I really think my perfect husband Grayson was doing anything wrong? He was the most straight-arrow person I knew, scrupulous and precise in everything he did.

Maybe there was a meeting here.

That was it.

The Associated Accounting Associates of America meeting or something. And I was going to walk inside, see Grayson delivering a speech on cash flow and depreciation, or whatever the fuck he did, since he wasn’t one who liked to talk about work much.

But when I went inside there was nothing. I checked each of the conference rooms, feeling panic slice through my chest.

Where was he?

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