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

join the rest of the employees for a drink. We’re not going to get any work done around here for a few days.” I walk out of the conference room, wiping beads of sweat from my brow.

In my daydream, I just keep walking and disappear.

CHAPTER 3

TISH

Rude.

John departs the conference room with Lance, abandoning me—and Kate and Ashlyn, for that matter—to walk out to the party. Once the baggage leaves, too, I hang back, watching the scene. Unfortunately, now I’m stuck alone with Sandra in the conference room.

“So much change,” Sandra says as she finally pushes away from the table.

“I know. I just want this to be over. Next phase and all.” I smile at her and flip my ponytail. I guess that’s nerves. I also know she hates it. If I had a piece of gum, I’d pop it in my mouth and crack it. I know how to do that, learned as a kid. The problem is Sandra doesn’t have to be nice to me when John isn’t around. And she’s not.

“Next phase? What would that be, exactly?” Sandra folds her arms across her chest. A smirk spreads across her face. Why does she always wear brown? She leans toward me and whispers, “Seems like you should be satisfied with this phase.”

Really, Sandra? John and I have been married for three years now. I’m not in the mood for this. She’s on my last nerve. So many people are today.

I lean toward her. “What is that supposed to mean?” Although I’ve asked the question, I know what she thinks: I am an opportunist. The beautiful, winning, young second-wife type. And she’s right for the most part. Except John seduced me. He did. Although it seems nobody around here believes that. Sandra and the rest of them all think I worked some sort of magic on John, took advantage of the poor man, yanked him away from his family. I did not make that first move. He did.

But as I said, it’s not all fun and games being in my position. Nobody likes you, nobody believes you. I stare at my huge wedding ring, move my wrist so it sparkles at her. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Sandra embraces her inner Sheryl Sandberg and leans in, too. I take a step forward. She says, “I know all about you.”

“No, you don’t. I mean sure, you’re the one who hired me to be John’s assistant. So, thanks for that.” I’m tired of her and her insinuations. I’ve dealt with them since I started at the company five years ago.

She was the first to catch on to the little something-something between John and me. She sniffed it, I could tell. If she could have, she would have fired me. But John was one step ahead of her. He wanted me, plain and simple. There was nothing Sandra or anyone else could do to stop it.

I look down at my sparkling eight-carat diamond wedding ring and hold my hand up, pretending to inspect it. I know she’s looking at it, too, with a dart of envy. “You’ll probably retire now, right? You’re that age, aren’t you?”

Her face contorts into an annoying grimace. “You mean old, don’t you? I’m sorry, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be watching you.”

“Enjoy the view.” I walk out of the now-empty conference room and feel her eyes on my back. There’s nothing she can do to me, but she should watch herself. She’ll need to stay on John’s good side if she wants to stick around.

And she should know by now that John runs everything through me. At least he did until recently. Another little issue we need to address on our weekend together. We really do have a lot to discuss: our relationship and other relationships in his life. I wish I didn’t have to pretend to be enjoying myself at this stupid party. I’d rather fly away with John and take stock of where we stand now that the IPO is launched. And we will soon. I check my watch.

I reach the atrium where the celebration is in full swing. The DJ is the best in the Midwest, and the catering company is central Ohio’s finest. Waiters in white jackets circulate with silver trays laden with signature cocktails and appetizers. There should be no complaints from the crowd about this bash. On the walls, gobo lights tell employees to use the hashtag #EventCoIPO.

Kate has thought of everything.

And there she is. Standing with John and Ashlyn. I make my way through the crowd without much trouble. Ever since I married the boss, chitchat with fellow employees has been awkward. I get it. I’m so far above them all now: untouchable, wealthy, in command. I’m isolated at the helm. I told you it isn’t easy being me.

“Nice shindig, Kate.” I slip my hand into John’s as I sidle up beside him. He’s mine, ladies. John squeezes my hand but then pulls away. I need to get him out of here, away from all the temptation of his past.

“Ashlyn did a great job helping out,” Kate says, and Ashlyn beams. In a new development, Ashlyn would like to be in marketing someday, and Kate thinks she’s brilliant at it. How wonderful. It’s especially wonderful because she won’t be working for EventCo. Not if I have a say in things. And I do. This gravy train is all over, dear. Too bad. But you’ll always have the memories from this summer’s internship. She graduates college next summer, and hopefully she’ll move far far away.

“I loved helping. You’re amazing, Mom.” Ashlyn finishes gushing over Kate. I fight the urge to say what I really think to the brat. Ashlyn and I have a détente, I suppose. Most of the time, I stay out of her way, and she stays out of mine. We were friends before I married her dad and for a time after. I was her slightly older BFF, a glamorous buddy to confide in, and