We followed her through downtown Houston to the Argonaut Hotel, an upscale establishment where wealthy people conducted business deals and secret affairs, often both at the same time. I paid the driver, asked him to wait, and positioned myself near the lobby entrance with my sunglasses on, looking like just another woman waiting for a lunch appointment. Within minutes, Sable emerged from her car—but she was no longer in workout clothes. She’d changed into a fitted aqua silk dress, high heels, and had styled her hair in soft curls. She walked into the hotel with the confident stride of someone who’d done this before.
I followed at a safe distance, my heart pounding. The lobby smelled of expensive wood polish and orchids. In the corner near the bar, I saw a man I recognized from a business website—Derek Cole, a real estate broker with a reputation for aggressive tactics and questionable ethics. Sable sat across from him, and within seconds, they were touching hands across the table. He slid a thick brown envelope toward her, and she took it with a smile I’d never seen her wear at home—intimate, conspiratorial, hungry.
I pulled out the old phone Gordon had given me, the one I’d set up to record video discreetly, and pressed the button. For fifteen minutes, I documented their meeting—the way she touched his arm, the way he kissed her wrist, the way they looked at each other like lovers sharing secrets. When they finally stood to leave, I slipped out ahead of them and got back to my taxi.
On the ride home, I watched the video three times. It was crystal clear. Sable’s face, Derek’s face, the envelope, the intimate touches—everything I needed to prove this was far more than a business meeting. I saved the video to two separate cloud accounts and emailed a copy to myself with the subject line: “Evidence – Do Not Delete.”
By the time I got home, Sable had beaten me there. She was in the living room in her workout clothes again, a towel around her neck, hair up in a ponytail as if she’d just finished an intense exercise session. “You know,” she said to Nathan, who’d come home early, “yoga was absolutely packed today, but I feel so much lighter. I should really go more often.”
I walked past carrying a tray of tea, and as I set it down, I said casually, “With perfume that strong, I think you definitely needed to detox.” She froze for just a fraction of a second, her smile faltering before she recovered with a too-bright laugh. “You’re always so observant, Cassandra. I’ll have to remember that.”
See more on the next page
Leave a Comment