Chapter 32
DAVID
Icouldn’t just come out and accuse April of cheating.
I was meticulous by nature, and I wanted to be sure before I came right out and said it. And I certainly couldn’t use a piece of paper as evidence, especially when they weren’t even sure themselves. He or she had only said they thought so, for fuck’s sake. What if they were wrong?
April may not have gotten straight A’s at USC, but she had the street smarts of weathered men twice her age. If I tried to broach her cheating by beating around the bush, she’d see right through me.
So I didn’t say anything when I returned from the office after being offered the promotion. I didn’t even tell her about the offer. I just gave her a few compliments and acted like everything was normal.
I woke the next morning and headed to April’s Coffee Shop. April didn’t work on Saturdays, and I knew she was meeting up with Margie, so this was my chance. If something were indeed up, maybe her co-workers would notice it, too.
I walked in at 8:55 on Saturday morning, and there wasn’t a single customer there. I can’t believe I invested over 200k into this hellhole. Considering I wanted to ask the barista a few questions, maybe it was better that it was empty on this day.
“What brings you here, Mr. Devers?”
Naomi was working. She was a student at USC, and once she applied, it was a foregone conclusion that she would be hired. The owner and the owner’s husband were both Trojans. How could we turn her down? Although technically, I was the owner, despite it being named after my wife.
“I wanted to pick up some coffee for the way home,” I said.
“Isn’t this far from your home?”
Why so many questions, Naomi?
“It is, but I was picking up some food in the area, so I decided to pop in.”
“Oh, that’s great. What food are you getting?”
Jeez. Was Naomi majoring in the Socratic method at SC? Question after question.
“Noah’s Bagels,” I said.
“Oh, Noah’s is great. April is going to love it. And what kind of coffee do you want?”
“Can I get two pounds of Italian Roast. Grounded, please.”
“Coming right up.”
Naomi turned around and started grinding the coffee beans.
“What time did you start today?” I asked.
“I opened.”
I decided to play the “Aw, Shucks” game. “That’s right. I always forget that my wife only opens Monday through Friday. Shoot, I can’t remember my own schedule sometimes.”
Naomi laughed. “I can be a little loopy sometimes, too.”
I didn’t say I was loopy, Naomi. “I think I might surprise her this week. What’s her schedule like on Monday and Tuesday?”
“Uh, let me think. Monday, she works from open at five until ten. And the same thing on Tuesday. She gets off at ten when Bridget comes in. No, wait. Bridget comes in at eight now.”
I had to continue playing dumb. “When did she stop working till ten on Tuesdays. I can’t even remember.”
“I don’t know, maybe a month ago, but don’t quote me on that. As I said, I get a little loopy, too.”
She smiled, and I laughed. Not because it was funny, but because I wanted her to think this was some innocent conversation.
I probably could have kept going and asked her for April’s schedule for the rest of the week, but I didn’t want this conversation to be that memorable for her.
She finished grinding the coffee, put it in the bag, tied the ends, and handed it over to me.
“Thanks, Naomi.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Devers. Enjoy the bagels.”
Tuff Richardson was a good friend of mine, and he knew electronics better than just about anyone I knew.
He was also the type of guy who didn’t ask too many questions, which was necessary for the favor I was going to ask him.
“Hello, David. To what do I owe this surprise?”
“Hey, Tuff. I have a favor to ask.”
“Anything for an old friend.”
“If I bring you a phone and ask you to check its location during a specific time and day, can you do that?”
“And here I thought you were going to ask me for a difficult favor.”
I laughed. “It’s that easy?”
“Not for most people. But for me, it’s a piece of cake.”
“Perfect. I’ll call you when I have it in my possession.”
At that point, most people would ask me what phone I was referring to. Not Tuff.
“I’ll be waiting.”
“One more question.”
“Shoot.”
“How long will it take for you to find this out once I give you the phone?”
“Less than fifteen minutes.”
Now all I had to do was steal April’s phone without her knowing.
The opportunity would present itself later that night.
I asked April if she wanted to have dinner at a restaurant in Santa Monica called Shudders on the Beach. It was one of her favorites, and I knew she’d say yes, which she did.
I had to come up with a plan to get April to give me her phone willingly.
Or willingly leave it in the car.
And that’s when I came up with my plan.
I called Tuff Richardson again. I had one more favor to ask.
I intentionally didn’t answer any of my text messages for the rest of the day.
We arrived at dinner, and I parked my car two blocks from the Pacific Ocean. I handed April her purse that she’d set in the back seat.
I took out my phone and was delighted by the number of texts I’d received.
“Will you look at this?” I said.
April looked at my phone. “My goodness. Twenty-two text messages.”
“I need a break from this stuff,” I said.
“I don’t blame you.”
“I’ll tell you what. I’m making an executive decision tonight.”
“This should be interesting. What is it?”
“We’re leaving our phones in the car tonight. No distractions. We can handle that for one night, can’t we?”
She looked skeptical. “What if there’s an emergency?”
“We haven’t had any kids yet. What possible emergency could there be?”
She stared at me, knowing the first sentence could be a barb meant for her. “So you want to sit and talk, just me and you?”
“Yes. You’re still my wife, after all.”
April took her phone out of her purse and begrudgingly handed it to me.
“Here, I’ll put them in the console,” I said, trying to keep the mood light. “This will be a nice change of pace.”
Her eyes told me she was suspicious. Not that I really cared anymore.