Page 86 of Happily Never After

“Exactly.” She brought up Mindy’s PowerPoint again and flipped through to their four chosen candidates. Heather Clearwater, a Pennsylvania girl turned California girl. She seemed promising, and she had even included a video coversheet. Ashley Dresham and her five years of event coordinating experience for recording studios also intrigued her.

“Are you concerned about Ashley’s image?” Mindy asked, glancing at the phone in Claire’s hand. In all the pictures they tracked down on social media, Ashley had committed strongly to a goth aesthetic.

“Not really. The dark and broody vibe is totally working for her. And just because she dresses differently than we do doesn’t mean she’s any less professional or committed to true love. Don’t judge a book by its cover and all that.”

Mindy nodded. “Oh, he’s turning! Wow, he really is going to a gym.”

Claire breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god he wasn’t pulling into a motel to be whipped by his mistress or leading a meeting full of misogynists. Unless the mistress worked at the gym. Hmm.

“I’m following him in.” Claire unbuckled her seatbelt and waited with her hand on the door. Brad emerged from his Lamborghini, talking on his phone. He was completely unaware. Did he even lock his car door? Anyone with a phone could Google how to hot-wire his car and snatch it before he ever noticed.

While Mindy locked the car, Claire moonwalked twice before hustling to the entrance of the gym. She wouldn’t make the same mistake as Brad. Not that anyone would want to steal a twenty-year-old Porsche when there was a red Lamborghini and a dozen other exotic cars parked outside this upscale gym.

“Hi! How can I help you?” The girl at the check-in desk swept her cornrows over one shoulder and flashed a blindingly white smile. A romance book with a tattered cover was splayed page-down on her desk.

“Hi, uh, two day passes, please,” Claire said.

“Sure thing. It’s sixty per person,” the girl said. “Cash or credit?”

Oof. Her bank account couldn’t handle much more of this West Coast price gouging.

“Think we can expense this?” Claire wondered as she handed over her credit card.

“We might as well actually work out while we’re here,” Mindy whispered back to her. “Oh, he’s headed into the locker room.”

They took their passes and dillydallied in the hallways outside the changing rooms, pretending to stretch against the wall. Minutes later, instead of the classic middle-aged-man workout combo of too-short shorts, New Balance sneakers, and a shirt from an obscure 5K that happened at least a decade ago, Brad walked out clad in suit pants and a button-down shirt.

Claire exchanged a glance with Mindy. Why would Brad wear a button down to work out in the gym?Washe meeting a mistress? Wordlessly, they followed him down the hallway. They passed several doors on either side, occasionally marked by words like “trapeze” or “death metal yoga.”

Brad ducked into an unmarked one and closed the door behind him.

“What do we do?” Mindy hissed.

“Listen, I guess?” Claire craned her neck. “I don’t see any vents we can crawl in.”

Mindy ducked low and pressed her ear to the crack. Claire leaned over her and listened hard against the door.

“Welcome, Brad. Are you ready to begin?” a sultry female voice cooed. What fresh hell was this?

“Yes, Topaz. It’s good to see you again.”

“Very well. Touch me, Brad. Here,” the voice commanded. “Closer.”

Claire’s mouth dropped open. Was this gym a front for a brothel? Her stomach dropped into her butt. She truly thoughtBrad had been the real deal. Sure, he was annoying and he changed his mind sixteen times a day. But she had been utterly convinced of his love for Karen. He glowed when he talked about her.

What were they doing now? Was that a passionate murmur? She leaned even harder into the door. Maybe it was all a misunderstanding. Maybe?—

“Oh, hang on, I forgot my speakers,” the female voice said. There were two footsteps that sounded like high heels ringing on tile. Suddenly, the door moved.

“Oh shi?—”

Claire and Mindy pitched forward and tumbled straight into the room. Mindy’s elbow crashed into her ribs as Claire rolled to avoid the legs of the mysterious woman.

“Claire? Mindy?” Shit. That was Brad’s voice, and he didn’t sound pleased to see them.

Something itchy was on Claire’s hand. She glanced down. The ginger wig must have slipped off when she catapulted into the room.

“Oh, hey, Brad. What are you doing here?” Mindy called from the floor. Her neck was on Claire’s ankle.

---