The Next Wife Page 5

  After about a month on the job, I asked him if he had any single friends he could connect me with. I stood at the door of his office. Waiting for a response.

  He looked up from his computer and tilted his head. “For what?”

  “For a date, silly. I’m new to the city, and all I’ve met on my own are gross young guys. I want to find a successful older guy. Like you,” I said.

  “Like me, huh?” He smiled. And I felt it. A zing, a current running between us. “I’m one of a kind, Tish.”

  “OK, well someone almost as handsome and successful as you then,” I said, laughing. “Will you think about it? Please?”

  “Oh, I’m thinking about it,” he said as I ducked out of the room.

  With his wife working away on the other side of the office building, John began thinking about me. At least, that’s what he told me despite the fact the framed publicity clip hanging above my desk declared Kate and John Nelson were “Mr. and Mrs. Incredible.” The Columbus Monthly magazine article by the front desk read: John and Kate Nelson started EventCo with a big idea, long hours behind the computer in their first apartment in Columbus. Today, it’s the world’s biggest online event company. How did they do it? It’s an incredible story. They’re our own local superheroes. And they’re still in love after all they’ve been through.

  So when John made his move eight months after I started working at EventCo, our flirtation had been going on for months. I never thought anything would come of it. I wanted someone like him. Not him. I knew it would be a huge challenge with John. See, it wasn’t like I was just replacing the first wife. This was an empire to divide and conquer. I had to become more vital than a superhero to John.

  It turns out I did have an in, a superpower I didn’t know I possessed. I understood Ashlyn and had an instant connection with her. Teenage daughters, something I’m quite familiar with personally as I recently was one, can be big trouble, a lurking villain in a superhero household. And Ashlyn was playing her role to perfection, the little monster. John and I became close because I could help his relationship with his daughter.

  John confided in me shortly after I started working at EventCo, hands on his hips, a worried frown spread across his handsome face. “Maybe you can enlighten me, Tish. I just don’t get Ashlyn. We give her everything and yet, she treats her mom and me like dirt. All I asked was that she get a summer job. But ‘nobody does that,’ she tells me. I’ve raised an entitled, spoiled brat, that’s what I’ve done. And Kate protects her as a way to get on her good side since she feels mom guilt about all the time she spent working while Ashlyn was growing up. Of course, Ashlyn just walks all over her mother. Always has. As for me, Ashlyn and I used to be so close, but now, who knows?”

  You see, the crack had formed before I arrived. Ashlyn was a little ice pick chipping away at their relationship at home. Meanwhile, at the office, there was more than just me with the chisel. But let’s stick with Ashlyn.

  “John, why don’t you let me talk to her? I could come over, maybe hang out with her? Babysit isn’t the word, but I can, you know, try to relate. How old is she?” I asked, but I already knew the answer. The brat had just been given a shiny new BMW for her sweet sixteen.

  “She’s sixteen, going on thirty.”

  “I’ve got this. I’m almost twenty-one.” I watched as the shock washed over him.

  “What? You’re not even legal to drink yet? I had no idea.” John shook his head, no doubt thinking about the company picnic the weekend before. He and I had bonded over a couple of glasses of rosé.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t tell on you for providing booze to an underage girl.” I winked. Oh, give me a break. It worked in the moment.

  “Sure, yes, why don’t you come over and hang out with Ashlyn. See if you can talk some sense into her. Kate and I fly to California this weekend. It’s Kate’s high school reunion. Not sure how long I have to stay, but I do need to make an appearance like she did at mine. Quid pro quo.”

  “I would rather die than attend a high school reunion.” In fact, I wouldn’t be caught dead in my hometown ever again. “But go enjoy. I’ll watch Ashlyn. We’ll have fun.”

  John nodded his agreement and said, “Kate will be relieved. She didn’t want to leave Ashlyn alone. I’ll go tell her. Thanks so much for the favor.”

  Kate may have been relieved then. But that’s because she didn’t realize what was happening right under her nose. And now I face the same threat. I don’t know how John thought he could keep things from me. He knows I read his texts, have his phone password. I am watching his every move.

  Just now, John and I walk side by side when he stops, puts his arm in front of me, and points at the trail. “Stop! Snake!”

  I jump back, my heart pounding in my chest, as an eight-foot-long brown snake with an intricate diamond pattern down its body crosses the path in front of me.

  “That’s a rattlesnake,” John adds helpfully.

  Danger lurks around every turn, as they say. Nice of John to save me just now, wasn’t it? Not smart, but nice.

  CHAPTER 8

  JOHN

  It’s a relief to be back in the bustling heart of Telluride instead of trapped in the condo with Tish or alone on the trail. And I cannot believe I almost told her that this isn’t working. I can’t be in this relationship anymore.

  It’s the truth. I must tell her. Soon.

  We’re eating outside at the Chop House, a restaurant on the patio of the New Sheridan Hotel. This place has been in business more than one hundred years. If the walls could talk, I bet they’d say they’ve seen a domestic dispute or two. That’s the thing. Tish and I aren’t having outward obvious fights, no name-calling; no plate throwing is going on. That’s not my style, though if you asked me right now, I would tell you it’s hers. I can feel her rage building like a summer storm. I haven’t really paid much attention to us, to her, not with everything else that’s going on.

  But I feel it between us now like a live grenade. I don’t know what will happen if one of us pulls the pin.

  I don’t like it. Not at all. Kate and I were never like this. I take a bite of my Cobb salad. Keeping my mouth busy chewing right now is for the best. For both of us. I don’t want to start a discussion here that won’t end well. No, that’s best left for when we get back home to Columbus. And I have it worked out. I just needed some clarity, some help. And I got that. It’s the juxtaposition between what I had with Kate and what my life has become with Tish. The difference is stark, once you see things clearly. And I’ve put some things in place, just to be safe. But I still need to do the right thing.

  This is not working.

  I’ll sell the house we share. I’ll give her half. She can keep her car and the jewelry, and she’ll be set. With the stock I’ve given her, she’s a wealthy woman. She’s young. She can start over. She has plenty of options.

  As for me, I just want to get away from her. Sad, isn’t it? How love can so quickly turn to something so painful. Kate and I, we fought, sure, but it was to be expected. We had a teenager, the stress of the business. We didn’t take care of our relationship. This thing with Tish is something much worse. I don’t have a name for it, but it makes you feel like there’s a vise around your chest, and it’s being tightened minute by minute. It’s silent and far more deadly. We don’t yell at each other, we simmer. It makes you want to run away, far away.

  “How’s your salad?” she asks, watching me closely. Ever since I saved her from that rattlesnake, she’s been nicer. I guess we just need to come across a snake every few hours to keep things on an even keel.

  “Good,” I manage to respond before shoving another bite in my mouth. Tish has ordered a bottle of rosé and is in the process of drinking the whole thing alone. That’s not healthy. I’d help her, but my altitude sickness is worse with alcohol. I’m saving myself for tonight. I’ll need a few drinks to get through until tomorrow.

  “You sure you don’t want a glass of wine?” Tish asks. She’s slur
ring a bit. She holds up the bottle. “Oops. Looks like there’s only one glass left. Ha!” She pours the rest of the bottle into her glass. “Cheers! What else do you want to do today? What would make it special for you?”

  I want to say “take a nap,” but I don’t think that’s what an old guy tells his young wife on a romantic weekend. “Whatever you’d like.”

  She smiles at that. I am proud of my smooth answer.

  “You know, I could use some retail therapy. A little shopping sounds good. You should get your daughter a gift. She loves Telluride, right?”

  Ashlyn does love Telluride. She learned to ski here. We spent many happy Thanksgivings and Christmases here, just the three of us. I swallow. The last time I asked Ashlyn to come to Telluride with me, she told me I’d ruined it by proposing to Tish here. I’ll admit, it wasn’t well planned. But Ashlyn will come around. She’s had a wonderful life all in all.

  Tish, well, I know she had it tough as a girl. She hasn’t told me much—it’s what she doesn’t say that lets you know it was bad. Tish never had anybody taking care of her until I came along.

  Or, rather, she came along, and I thought with my dick instead of my brain. I swallow the pang of guilt at the memory and remind myself Tish will be fine. She’ll be rich and never need to worry about anything. She’ll be fine.

  I don’t say what I think. I keep it in, and then things turn ugly.

  Like now. It looks like we are a happy couple who shared a shockingly expensive lunch at one of the best restaurants in Telluride and are now out for a stroll through town. But we’re not. Not really.

  “What’s Ashlyn’s favorite store?” Tish asks.

  I’ve managed to finish my salad, pay the bill, and escort Tish out to Main Street all while lost in my memories. Good question. “Last time we were here was almost five years ago.” That revelation leaves a lump in my throat. Time is racing by, and my daughter and I grow further apart by the minute.

  “That’s too bad. Well, Two Skirts is cute. I’ll find a little something for Ashlyn and something for me. You can wait out here.” Tish points to a bench, and I do as I’m told. With all the wine she’s had, I’m surprised she’s able to walk straight, let alone shop. I take that back. She can shop in any condition. That I have discovered firsthand.

  Kate never went to a mall. She’d browse the windows here but preferred to be outside enjoying the fresh air. Of course, Kate has a stylist who refreshes her wardrobe every month. Somehow, though, that seems sophisticated, sensible. She doesn’t have the time to shop—she runs a huge company. But she always looked great. Still does. Kate would laugh at me if she saw me now, sitting on a bench like a scolded child in time-out.

  Just an old sugar daddy waiting for his lady. Fuck. I pull out my phone. There is something I can do. Despite the fact I’m “not allowed,” I push Kate’s number. I have her in my contacts under Mabel, but I doubt we’re fooling anyone. Too bad, Tish. We have things to discuss that no one else needs to know about.

  She answers on the first ring. “Are you OK? What’s going on? And are you alone?”

  Let me unpack that for you. She’s worried because I’m calling her on a Saturday during my romantic getaway. That is because Tish has made a rule that Kate and I cannot communicate directly without her approval and supervision, especially outside of the office. I never call Kate when Tish is within earshot. That would cause an explosion at my current home. World War III.

  I’ve come to realize this is all ridiculous. Kate and I run a company together. We have a daughter, we have—had—a life.

  Shit.

  “I’m stupid. I let her whisk me away.” I watch the front door of the boutique, ready to hang up if Tish appears.

  “You’re leaving me to handle all the questions.” She exhales loudly. “Sorry, it’s just that it’s a lot. I’m at the office, fielding calls from employees. I wish you were here to help me. We’re so good together. A team. At work, I mean.”

  “I know, Katie. I’m home tomorrow. I’m sorry. For everything. I’m going to fix this.” I don’t know why I added that, but I did.

  “Where is she right now? How are you getting away with calling me? Won’t you be in trouble?” Kate is worried about me. But she’s right to. I’m beginning to think Tish is crazy.

  “Tish is in a store, buying something for Ashlyn, after she buys twice as much for herself.”

  “Shocking. She is good at that, so maybe just let her shop for the rest of the weekend? Don’t worry. I can handle things here until you’re back. It’s fine.” Kate is so nice to me.

  “No, it’s not. I feel terrible about leaving you,” I quickly add. “I promise, I’ll pick up my share as soon as I get back tomorrow.”

  Kate laughs. “Are you sure you’ll be coming home tomorrow? Doesn’t seem like you’re the one in charge. But I hope you’re right.”

  “Look, things will change just as soon as I get home. I promise. I’ll make you proud again, Katie, I will.” I wonder if she’d consider reconciliation, but it’s hard to justify asking that question. Not yet, at least. I have a lot of work to do to earn Kate’s trust back. I know that.

  I see Tish at the cash register inside the store. The saleswoman is wrapping pink tissue around a pile of items. I’m running out of time.

  “Enjoy Telluride. And be careful. Remember getting lost on the back side of the mountain?”

  I laugh at the memory. We had been terrified at first but found a lift five minutes later. We always laughed about our mountain survival skills. “I remember. Quite the rugged mountaineers.”

  Kate laughs with me. The sound warms my heart. “We should hang up so you don’t get in trouble.”

  “Kate. Wait.”

  I know she’s gone. I shove the phone in my pocket as Tish walks out of the store with two shopping bags.

  I kick the ground with my hiking boot before standing to help her with her latest unnecessary purchases.

  This is not working.

  CHAPTER 9

  TISH

  He doesn’t think I saw him on the phone. Talking to her. Sharing a private moment, a special laugh. I know that expression on his face. It’s love.

  “Looks like you did some damage,” John says, taking the shopping bags from my hands.

  Not as much as you’ve done. “Yes, I think Ashlyn will love the outfit.”

  “I told her you were shopping for her again. She told me to tell you thanks.” He says it lightly, casually, the way you might say, Oh look, there’s a mountain, despite the fact you’re in a valley surrounded by them.

  “Oh, you were talking to Ashlyn just now?” I chuckle a bit, despite myself. He’s such a bad liar.

  “Yes, I spoke to Ashlyn. She’s my daughter. I should be able to do that whenever I’d like.”

  I’m a step behind him so I can’t see his face, but I know he’s flushed. His face turns red when he’s lying. “Of course you should. It’s only when you lie to me about things, that’s when it gets tricky.”

  We’ve reached the gondola station where we’ll hop on for a ride over the mountain and down into the aptly named Mountain Village where our condominium is located. This was all so romantic before. Can’t you imagine it? John and I, snuggled side by side on a date night, the town of Telluride blanketed in thick snow, twinkling below us like a dream. John slipped his hand inside my ski jacket. His touch made me dizzy.

  Those were the days. Now we stand side by side, me fuming thanks to his lies, his deceits. Him smiling, thinking he’s getting away with it. With all of it.

  I think of Ashlyn, the beautiful outfit I selected in one of the bags. She won’t like it, won’t appreciate it, because it’s from me. When we first met, she worshipped the ground I walked on. Kate and John flew off to California and left me and the terrible teen up to our own devices, which, of course, was mostly being on our devices. Kate was so thankful to have me there, keeping Ashlyn “company,” as she put it. I wonder if she blames herself for any of this, for enabling my original e
ntrée into their personal lives.

  After a tour of the large and historic Grandville home—I’d already checked it out online and discovered it was formerly owned by a governor and was one of the most sought-after addresses in the city—Ashlyn had retreated to the family room to watch something on Netflix. While she watched her show, I snooped.

  John and Kate’s bedroom was bigger than any bedroom I’d ever seen. It was elegant, if old fashioned, with soft white bedding, blue silk walls, and a whole separate toilet and sink area for each of them plus a walk-in closet each. I mean, you could get up and never see each other. Fabulous.

  Kate’s dressing room, as they called it online, was filled with designer clothing, of course, but the most amazing thing was that it was divided into sections, with accessories from each brand displayed together with the clothing. I’ve never seen anything like it before or since. I could have moved into her Gucci section, seriously. And John always tells me Kate didn’t shop. He’s so clueless.

  I forced myself to keep moving through Kate’s closet and stopped in front of a family portrait of the three of them. Ashlyn looked to be about ten years old, and they were on Ponte Vedra Beach, where they have yet another house. Some folks just have too much of everything, you know?

  I reached out and touched Ashlyn’s golden hair in the portrait. Such a lucky girl, and she didn’t even realize it. Still doesn’t. But then again, you don’t really appreciate things until they’re gone, am I right?

  “What are you doing?” It was Ashlyn. She’d sneaked up on me.

  “Oh my god, you scared me to death,” I said, clutching my chest. “What do you think I’m doing? What every babysitter does, always. Snooping around. Is your show over?”

  Ashlyn grinned. She wore skinny jeans and a tight T-shirt, and her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked younger than sixteen. She looked like the girl in the portrait. “That’s funny. You’re right. They all do it, but nobody admits it. I caught my nanny in my mom’s jewelry box once. She thought I’d tell on her.”