He Kissed Her in My Kitchen. I Kept the Camera On. (Good Wives Keep Receipts #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

MOTION DETECTED

The nanny cam wasn’t my idea.

I remember how hard Gavin pushed for it.

Comparing models. Reading reviews. Talking about motion alerts, storage, blind spots, and safety.

The best-selling point—we are letting a stranger into our home with our baby.

The dramatic side turned up to a level I never saw before.

I chalked it up to him being a first-time dad. A protective father.

Being a man.

It kind of turned me on.

His sense of love and care, wanting the best for us.

All of that plays through my head as I stand behind the counter at Audrey’s Cafe, staring at the app he insisted we install.

I tell myself I don’t have to constantly check. The app will alert me to any movement.

Sometimes I wonder if technology is becoming our worst enemy.

I’m halfway through a short shift.

The morning rush is now over.

I put my phone away and wipe down the counter. I check the pastry case. I try to finish inventory while Audrey talks to someone near the register.

My shirt smells like espresso.

I’m really tired, but I like being here.

I like adults. I like noise.

I like having a few hours where I’m not just Mom.

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

I look.

Motion detected: Kitchen.

I ignore it.

Paige is home with the baby. Movement in the kitchen is normal.

But, wait, is that where I left…

My phone buzzes again.

Finally, after a third time, I open the app.

I see my kitchen.

I’m still wondering why…

Nothing moves.

I’m about to close the app when I hear Paige’s laugh.

Not the soft little laugh she uses with the baby.

This is a real laugh. A private laugh.

If she has someone over…

Gavin walks into the frame.

I stare at him.

He’s supposed to be downtown. He told me he had meetings all afternoon.

Paige follows him into the kitchen.

She’s not holding the baby.

I start building excuses before anything even happens.

You know, maybe he forgot something. Maybe Paige called him home. Maybe the baby is sick.

Or maybe I am so exhausted that I’m reading way too much into the way they stand near each other.

Then Gavin puts his hand on her wrist.

Before I can suck in a breath, he leans down and kisses her.

Paige kisses him back.

Immediately.

No shock. No hesitation. No awkwardness.

I know right away this is not the first time this has happened. It’s just the first time I’m seeing it on a live video feed that they both don’t realize is right next to them.

They start to move together, just proving even more how familiar this is to them.

They know where to put their hands.

They’ve done this before, Claire.

The cafe noise fades.

I stop hearing the grinder. I stop hearing Audrey.

I stop hearing the customer asking for something at the register.

I only see my husband pressing our nanny against the kitchen counter.

My fingers go numb.

I lock the phone.

I look up, forward, and Audrey asks if I’m okay.

I tell her I have a headache.

My voice sounds normal.

That scares me.

I walk from behind the counter to the stock room and close the door.

I reopen the app.

I’m too nervous to check the live feed, so I replay the clip.

This time I look for details.

Gavin’s jacket is hanging over one of the chairs.

Paige’s hand touches the back of his neck.

He pulls her closer without looking nervous.

Neither of them checks their surroundings.

They are not afraid of being caught.

At one point, Gavin starts to turn his head but Paige’s hand touches his cheek, guiding him back to focusing on her. Only her.

I do not call Gavin. I do not call Paige.

I do not drive home.

I start asking questions.

Does the app save every clip? Can a user delete footage? Does Gavin have full access? Can I download it? Can he see that I downloaded it?

How long has this been going on? Why didn’t I see this before?

I chase those last two questions away for now.

I have to stop thinking like a wife.

And go back to thinking like the operations manager I used to be.

I save the video to my phone.

I quickly create a new email address and send the file to myself.

It’s named: Kitchen - Monday - 11:42am

I check the email twice to ensure its arrival.

Audrey calls my name from the front.

I slip my phone into my back pocket and smooth my apron.

I walk back out.

Gavin wanted the camera in our house. He wanted the movements recorded. He wanted the stranger watched. He wanted every possible threat preserved.

So now the video is saved exactly the way he taught me if I ever saw something.

And with that, I go back to work.