The Next Wife by Kaira Rouda (speld decodable readers txt) 📕

Kate probably wouldn’t appreciate the old-sweater analogy, but we were so comfortable together, our lives still woven together. We’d even started collaborating outside of work. Kate suggested combining our real estate portfolios again, all our homes, and placing the properties in a trust for Ashlyn. I’d agreed happily. It felt good to be building trust again, literally and figuratively. A big step toward a brighter future together, I hope.

I pull myself into the present, taking a deep inhale of clean mountain air. I keep my tone light and reach for Tish’s hand. “I’m all yours, babe. What’s next on our itinerary?”

See, I’ve still got it. I watch her face flush. She believes I’m still in love with her.

CHAPTER 7

TISH

He’s such a liar. I mean, I guess I am a little bit, too, since I’m grinning at him right now like he’s telling the truth. I know him better than that.

How dare he talk to her while he’s hiking with me in the very place where he proposed? I stop on the trail and turn back to John. He’d better realize where we stand.

From the look on his face, he does. “Oh, honey, I just realized this is the spot. Come over here.”

My heart melts. He loves me, just me. Only me. I run into his arms, and he swings me around. I laugh. We are a Lifetime movie. It’s wonderful. He’s everything I dreamed about all those years ago. Everything I never had. Everything I always wanted. A loving man, a happy home, and a successful career: all the things girls in my hometown never thought they could have. I knew what I wanted. I found it. The perfect job. And then the perfect boss turned into my dream husband. I worked hard to get it. I am not going to let this all go.

“Ah, shit,” John says as we topple to the ground. “Sorry about that. Got carried away.”

I am cradled in his strong arms. I’m fine. We’re fine. The grass is warm and soft and tickles my cheek. I pick a bright-yellow daisy and stick it behind my ear. “I love you, John.”

It really can be this simple again. When Sandra in HR offered me the executive assistant job five years ago, I didn’t know who I’d be supporting. I had some experience, albeit embellished. Everyone does it. I didn’t have any interest in school—I just wanted out of my hometown as fast as possible, and so I left.

There was nothing for me in Pineville. No one had ever been there for me, not really. And once stepdaddy number two died, Momma just about died with him of grief, locked sobbing in her bedroom for days. He hadn’t laid a hand on me in a month on the day he died. As for my dear old mom, soon she’d be finished grieving, and she’d focus on me. I knew the pattern. I was gone before I could feel her wrath again. And I never looked back.

A few months after I moved to Cincinnati, I realized the fastest way out was up, through a man. I met Ron the dentist while I was waitressing. He sat in my booth, morning after morning, at Bob Evans. A few weeks into our flirting, he slipped me a card and told me he’d love to fix my smile. How romantic. But I needed my crappy teeth fixed, straightened, whitened, and whatever else. And he was lonely, so it worked, for a bit.

Another way up was through an executive. Mr. Howe was my first corporate boss, a big step up from waitressing made possible by my newly straightened teeth and a Ron-sponsored professional wardrobe. Mr. Howe was grossly overweight and headed a real estate company. He thought he was god and acted as such. I showed him respect and a lot of thigh, and he doubled my salary.

The one good thing he did was talk me into getting my GED, said I’d look more professional on my résumé. And he was right, I suppose. I probably would have stayed there longer if his wife hadn’t been such a Bible-thumping, mean-spirited, white-pantyhose-wearing bitch. As if I’d want to touch him. I wouldn’t. But I had two long years there, learned all the computer software an executive assistant needs to know about, and earned my GED before I cashed my very generous severance check, hopped in my car, and moved to Columbus.

Truth be told, I googled John Nelson after I read a list of the hottest CEOs in the city. Yep, that’s shallow. Guilty. But I’d already worked for a beast of a man. I wanted to have somebody good to look at all day. Sue me.

So there I sat in front of Sandra’s sleek glass desk, hoping for an offer to support the cute guy I’d googled, or any good-looking executive at EventCo because I didn’t know who was hiring. The job description simply read: administrative support for an executive. That was something I knew I could do. I liked the vibe of the office, the company’s mission. When I walked into the soaring lobby, I felt nothing but possibilities. I mean the lava lamps everywhere were a little much. Everyone said they were Kate’s idea, some sort of environmental branding. Whatever. The place was trendy, cool. Like me. I’d met all the executives, except Kate, in a series of brief speed-dating sessions. I still had no idea who needed help.

“We would like to offer you the position as John Nelson’s executive assistant.” Sandra pushed a white folder across her desk. “The details of the offer are in the packet. We’ll need an answer within the next twenty-four hours.”

“Mr. Nelson?” I was pleased I’d rocketed to the top of the résumé pile and landed the job. But surprised? Of course not.

“Yes. Any other questions?” She glanced at her phone, signaling my time was up.

I opened the folder, saw the offer, tried to keep from screaming,