I tossed my book onto the floor and pulled her onto my lap. “Let’s do it.” First we’d made love, and then we’d written a business plan. Two months later we were up and running—in our apartment—but she made us cut a ribbon anyway. Before I knew it, we were married, buying a house, and she was pregnant with Ashlyn, all while growing the company, too. We set up our offices in the basement, painting the walls bright shades of yellow, orange, and blue to give us energy, Kate said. We celebrated every milestone, and we hit every one we set. That’s Kate. The overachiever. Celebrations mean a lot to her. Heck, she built a company around celebrations.
“Earth to John.” Tish stands behind me in the mirror. Clearly I should finish brushing. I open the medicine cabinet and find my blood pressure medicine just where it should be and beside it my bottle of herbal supplements from the naturopath. These pills keep me calm under stress and help with restful sleep. I look in the mirror and see an exhausted middle-aged man. Maybe I should take double the dose today. In the mirror, Tish watches me. I drop my eyes back to the medicine cabinet and remind myself to get a backbone. It’s time to make a change. I swallow the pills with a big gulp of water before turning to my bride.
“What hike are you thinking about? I should take it easy day one.” I move into the walk-in closet and find my hiking attire. I pull on khaki shorts with so many pockets you could never fill them all and a comfortable white T-shirt, then walk into the bathroom. I slide the rest of today’s pills into my pocket. I’m supposed to take them throughout the day, and from the tension between us, I suspect today I’ll need them more than ever.
“Let’s do the meadow. That way we can enjoy all the wildflowers and pick some for the table.”
The meadow isn’t really a hike. It’s a stroll. “Perfect.” I should be able to stay upright for it.
“Breakfast is ready. Let’s eat first.” Tish leads the way out of the bedroom. A bedroom designed by Kate, unchanged by Tish. Is that strange to her, I wonder? Does she care that my first wife’s handprints cover this room? I find the continuity strangely comforting: a reminder of a beautiful past.
I’m such a fool.
On the way to the bedroom door, I slip my hand inside the sheets and grab my phone. I delete the incoming texts once Tish starts down the hall.
She turns around. Did she catch me?
She says, “I have a big surprise.”
Oh no. All I can think with dread is: Now what?
CHAPTER 5
TISH
John follows me to the breakfast nook and sits. I pour him fresh-squeezed orange juice from a sparkling crystal pitcher. On his plate, I’ve arranged a European breakfast of sorts: a hard-boiled egg; toast and strawberry jam; hard, sharp cheese; and some prosciutto. Cherries shine in a bowl. I saw the whole setup in one of my lifestyle magazines. We’re living the life.
“Lovely surprise. Feel free to do this every morning. Or any morning,” John says before shoving a bite of toast into his mouth.
Cute. He’s pointing out my lack of domestic ability. A backhanded compliment. He should watch it. When’s the last time he made me breakfast? Never. “I guess I’ll have the time to prepare this sort of feast since I’m now in forced retirement from EventCo. I still don’t think it’s fair. I like working with you better.”
“That topic is settled.” John’s voice has an edge to it today. I decide not to push the issue at the moment. But it is not settled. Not with me.
“I’m not sure I’m meant to be a housewife. It seems unfulfilling. But I’m glad you like my attempt. Eat up.” I pull out my chair and sit across from him.
I still remember the moment a month ago when John called me into his office and told me to have a seat.
“Ooh, so serious and boss-like. What’s up?” I asked. I made sure to cross my legs, showing them off from the side slit in my tight black skirt.
“Our consultants have told me that the new investors won’t accept an ex-wife and the second wife working at EventCo once we’re a public company. They say it will scare off potential shareholders. That it’s bad for our IPO. It’s negative optics.”
I’ll give you some negative optics, I thought at the time. “Maybe Kate should retire, then. Isn’t she almost that age?” I glared at him, challenging him. “I’ve been here almost five years. It’s not fair. She should leave. I’m the wife now.”
“Of course Kate will not be leaving. This is her company.” John stood up and walked around his huge desk. My mind flashed to the moment he’d seduced me, right there, on top of that desk. I’d had no idea our flirtations meant anything to him, no idea he was unhappy in his marriage. “Unsatisfied” is the word he had used then as he pushed me back onto the desk.
I shake my head. His office took on a whole different vibe a month ago. That’s when he told me I was out.
“It’s my company, too,” I said. “I’ve been a good employee. A great executive assistant. You can’t replace me.”
“Of course not, honey. You’re irreplaceable, but I’ll need to. Sandra’s working on it already,” he said. His hands found my shoulders, massaging the tension, trying to make me agree to his stupid decision.
“Whatever.” That’s all I said. It wasn’t really an agreement; it was a pause, time to think through my options and to appease John. When it comes down to it, for
