The Next Wife by Kaira Rouda (speld decodable readers txt) 📕
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- Author: Kaira Rouda
Read book online «The Next Wife by Kaira Rouda (speld decodable readers txt) 📕». Author - Kaira Rouda
I’ll allow myself a momentary distraction. But I’m not letting this go.
CHAPTER 33
KATE
It’s like any other Monday, arriving at the office before anyone else, having this place, all of this beautiful office space to myself. My space.
I turn the key and push on the heavy all-glass door. The familiar warning beep of the alarm system greets me, and I hurry to disarm the panel. That done, I inhale. Perfect. There are no morning office smells yet. No perfume fighting with aftershave. No roasted coffee beans competing with the scent of pressed juices and ginger shots.
Early in the morning, the office is my sanctuary. Even when John and I were married, when everything was still happy, or as happy as any couple working together can be, I’d leave home first. To experience this—a slice of solitude in the place I created.
Because when it comes right down to it, I created EventCo. It’s my name on our first patent.
I reach my office and slip the key in the door. I didn’t even have a lock on my private office, not until she came along. The locksmith rekeyed both executive offices again last week.
So much for listening to my own intuition: I protected my office, but not my marriage. There’s likely something juicy in this statement for my therapist, but I’ll tuck that away until later. I know what Dr. Ray would say: “Let’s delve deeper, Kate, shall we? There’s so much more to mine in that statement.”
I remember the look on Dr. Ray’s face when I told her John and I were having lunch together. And her worried brow when I told her I knew that when we were cordial, it was driving Tish crazy. I’d hoped a wedge between them would be enough to get her out of the office at least. It was just a week before he died.
“I need you to be realistic,” Dr. Ray had said at the time, swiveling back and forth in her desk chair. “You can’t control another couple’s relationship. It’s a dangerous proposition you’re playing with here. You have every reason to stay angry, to be angry. You have every reason to move on. I’d hate to see you backslide here.”
“But we do have business to discuss. Sometimes we do it over lunch,” I told her.
Dr. Ray shook her head. “No. That’s a terrible idea. You’ll never be able to trust him again. Stay distant. Professional, but distant. You share a daughter and a business, that’s all.”
“True. But what about forgiveness, Dr. Ray?” I’d asked.
“Yes, you should forgive John. But you also should never forget what he did to you.”
I’d nodded but didn’t say anything. Our session was over. And now I suppose I don’t really have much more to talk to her about. I’m just not angry anymore. I drop my favorite pod into the Italian espresso machine and enjoy the familiar hum, the smell of the dark liquid as it swirls into the mug. Another simple ritual I enjoy in the morning.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a shadow down the hall beyond my door, and goose bumps tickle the back of my neck like a finger. My imagination has been having a field day lately. I’m jumpy, suspicious of the slightest odd sound. It may be because I’m haunted by John’s death and especially spooked by the way she had him cremated. Was it John’s ghost I saw walking down the hall? No, of course not.
It could be the unease of everything right now, the tension in the air here at the office, everywhere. I take a sip of espresso to combat the chill spreading inside me. I can’t fight the feeling of being watched.
When I turn around, Tish stands in the hallway just outside my office, looking at me with a deadly stare.
CHAPTER 34
TISH
Oh, hello, princess. Did I startle you?
I smile at Kate, and she looks, well, I can only say, terrified. I’m not certain why. I guess she’s surprised to see me. She’s standing so delicately in her fancy designer pants suit, sensible Jimmy Choo pumps, enjoying a perfectly brewed cup of coffee in her over-decorated corner office.
As for me, I’m dressed in my John-copying, business-as-usual all black. Black silk top, dress pants, pumps. I turn the handle of her office door and let myself in.
I expect her to jump back, but she doesn’t. She eyes me over her coffee, sizing me up, challenging me. It’s funny and appropriate, I suppose. Here we are, two equals, the two Mrs. Nelsons.
“Good morning. Do you have a few minutes to chat?” I ask. I’m accessible. Friendly. We’re a team now, although I suppose she doesn’t know that yet.
She holds her coffee cup with both hands like a vise. “I don’t have anything to talk to you about. I don’t know why you’re at the office. Remember you resigned? Go back to wherever it is you came from.”
Kate is feistier than I expected.
I take a step forward, my hands on my hips. Power position. “Everything has changed with John’s sudden death. I’m not going anywhere. I’m family.”
“I need you to leave. Now.” Kate points to the open door behind me.
“Fine. If and when you decide you want to be civil, I’ll be in my office.” I’m about one step toward the door when she explodes.
“You don’t work here. Do you understand? Get out.” Kate slams her coffee cup down and splatters coffee all over her desk. I know it’s hard for her to yell. She was raised in a nice family where children were to be seen, not heard. I know this because I had the opposite upbringing. My family is all about rage.
Therefore, unlike Kate, I know how to mask it.
“Oh, what a mess!” I say on my way out. I hurry down the hall of what I like to think of as Kate’s World, her half of the office building where all her
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