and requested the bill.
“You’re still paying for the pie, right?” she asked playfully.
“My gift to you,” I said, giving her my credit card.
She looked at the plate in her hand. “This isn’t my tip, is it?”
“Not by a long shot.”
Before heading to my van, I gave Nancy her usual $100 “hospitality tip” and scribbled, “See you soon,” on the top of the receipt. Outside, I hailed a nearby taxi and paid the driver $40 to wait for Samantha and Peter.
“No problem, pal,” the cabbie said coolly.
When they stepped out into the early evening sun, I snapped some good identification shots.As the last thing we wanted was for Samantha to get into a strange man’s car, she suggested they take a cab, which caused a brief argument to erupt. Peter was adamant he was fine to drive but soon realized his protests were futile when my cab driver pulled up to whisk them away.
I followed at a discreet distance, recording the plumber’s verbal flirtations with Samantha, who continued to play it cool, before zipping past them to establish a surveillance position at the motel.
The Tecumseh Motel is an older-style building with all the unit doors facing the parking lot. I set up in an adjacent convenience store lot, jumped in the backseat and awaited the taxi’s arrival. The beauty of this location was it gave the target ample opportunities to change his mind, to save his dignity, and to rescue his faltering marriage.
The short cab ride from the restaurant fell into the This is dangerous but fun category. However, once buddy was actually at the motel the reality of the situation set in: “Oh my God, I’m going to have sex with this woman! Should I really be doing this?” Some guys actually sprinted up the exterior staircase, trying to get down to business as soon as humanly possible. Don’t get me wrong, occasionally there are would-be-cheaters who suddenly have looks of terror wash over their features. Maybe images of their wife or kids pop into their mind—who knows. Despite the consequences, one by one almost all physically will themselves forward, across the parking lot, up the two flights of stairs and finally to Samantha’s room, or as she calls it, The Loser’s Love Den.
I videotaped more close-ups of Peter’s face and saw only joy; no trepidation at all. A player, pure and simple. He was alone, out of town, horny and about to make it with a beautiful young woman who wouldn’t charge him a dime.
How lucky could one plumber get?
Once inside the room, Peter immediately tried to kiss Samantha. I could hear the microphone being jostled as their chests collided with one another.
“Hey, slow down,” Sam said.
“I’m sorry,” Peter stammered. “It’s been awhile. I guess I’m out of practice. I didn’t mean to . . .”
“It’s all right,” Sam cut him off. “I’m kind of new at this too.”
Good girl, I thought. Keep him cool. We’re almost there.
“Why don’t I freshen up? The cigarette smoke was pretty thick in the restaurant and I hate the smell.”
“So do I,” Peter replied.
There was a long period of silence in the room that made me uncomfortable, but then our plumber playboy said something that would be the final nail in his marital coffin.
“Would you be opposed to getting cleaned up . . . together?” Long pause. “You know . . . have a shower, or bath, if you prefer?”
“Let me think about that,” Samantha replied, as she entered the bathroom and closed the door. “Let’s rock and roll,” she said in a low whisper to me.
This was my cue. I auto-dialed Samantha’s pager and a minute later, I could hear Sam’s distinctive pager tone go off in my earpiece. I heard the bathroom door open and Sam give out a short cry as she read the message.
“My father’s had a heart attack.”
“You’re kidding?” I heard Peter say.
Wrong reaction, friend.
There was authentic fury in Samantha’s response. “Do you think I would kid around about something like that? What does this message say?”
I visualized poor Peter’s expression as he read my message: Urgent. Dad’s had a heart attack. Call me. Sara.
“Sara is my sister,” Samantha snapped, venom dripping from each syllable.
“Geez, I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean to imply . . .”
“I have to pack,” Sam cut him off again. “I’m the one who should be sorry. You’ve been so nice and we were getting along so well.”
“No, these things happen.” He was good at hiding his disappointment but what choice did he have?
Samantha continued to sob into my ear as the exterior room door opened and I saw Peter looking out.
“I’ll grab the taxi we came here in. It’s still out front.” He turned to Samantha and enveloped her in a big bear embrace. “Everything will turn out okay. Trust me.” He looked at Samantha’s tear-stained face and kissed her on her right cheek.
Samantha stepped away and smiled weakly. “Maybe we’ll meet again.”
As Peter put on his coat, his attention returned to the bed. “I attend these conventions twice a year. With any luck we’ll be able to make some beautiful music together next time.” There was another awkward pause before he added, “I’ll get out of your way so you can pack. It was very nice meeting you.”
“Again, thanks for dinner, it was lovely.”
Peter walked down to the parking lot and then looked up to Sam’s room, where she remained standing in the doorway. They waved to each other as he entered the back seat of the taxi, which was driven off the lot. Five seconds after Samantha closed the door my phone rang. I couldn’t even get, “Hello,” out before she started screaming at me.
“Did you see what he did? That perv kissed my cheek so he could taste my tears! What kind of sicko does that?”
“If your father had cut out those fatty foods, maybe you’d have found out.”
“I don’t think so,” she hissed. “Are you coming up?”
“Be there in a sec. I’m going to follow the taxi, to make sure our mutual acquaintance gets to his hotel in one piece.”
Unfortunately, due to slow traffic flow on the main drag, I lost sight of the taxi a short time later. As it was heading in the right direction, I made the executive decision to pull the plug and return to the motel.
I opened the door with my key and was immediately struck by how gorgeous Samantha was. That she was stretched provocatively across the bed in only bra and panties was also mighty appealing to my old eyes.
“Now what would your significant other say about us hanging out together under these circumstances?”
