The Next Wife
Page 1
PRAISE FOR KAIRA ROUDA
The Next Wife
“In The Next Wife, two women go ruthlessly head-to-head. Kaira Rouda knows how to create the perfect diabolical characters that we love to hate. Equally smart and savage, this is a lightning-fast read.”
—Mary Kubica, New York Times bestselling author of The Other Mrs.
“Rouda’s talent for making readers question everything and everyone shines through on every page of her propulsive new thriller The Next Wife. Her narrators are sharp and unpredictable, each one with a tangle of secrets to unravel. The Next Wife will leave you tense and gasping, with a chilling twist you won’t see coming.”
—Julie Clark, New York Times bestselling author of The Last Flight
“One of the most insidious, compulsive books I’ve read recently. Kaira Rouda has a way of drawing you in with great characters, fast-paced writing, and a story that won’t let you go. Brilliant, dark, and dazzling.”
—Samantha Downing, USA Today bestselling author of My Lovely Wife and He Started It
“One man. Two wives. Kaira Rouda has masterfully created cunning twists and sharp narration that take you on an unexpected and delicious journey and will leave you with a gasp. Devious and fun, The Next Wife should be the next book you read!”
—Wendy Walker, bestselling author of Don’t Look for Me
“I absolutely inhaled The Next Wife. Nail-biting suspense, dark humor, and family intrigue. I savored every page and now have the worst book hangover. Loved it!”
—Michele Campbell, internationally bestselling author of The Wife Who Knew Too Much
The Favorite Daughter
“Kaira Rouda’s husband, Harley, may have recently been elected to Congress, but she isn’t looking to make a name for herself just as a politician’s wife . . . The Gone Girl–style domestic suspense novel follows Jane, a narcissistic perfectionist dealing with the death of her daughter.”
—Washington Post
“[An] exceptional psychological thriller . . . suspense fans will be amply rewarded.”
—Publishers Weekly, starred review
“Will hit you right in the heart.”
—Bustle
“Rouda delivers a wickedly perfect thriller with The Favorite Daughter.”
—Good Life Family Magazine
“Delightfully wicked fun!”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Involving psychological suspense that reveals the cracks in what seems like a perfect life.”
—Booklist
“B. A. Paris and Shari Lapena fans will fall head over heels for this suspenseful psychological thriller set in an upscale Southern California community.”
—POPSUGAR
“In The Favorite Daughter, Kaira Rouda . . . provides a front-row seat to the riveting unraveling of an unhinged narcissist who will do anything to regain a picture-perfect image . . . Rouda’s portrayal of Jane is fabulously compelling and darkly hilarious, detailing her self-obsession and conceit . . . This amplifies the discomfort of witnessing Jane coming unwound, but it’s impossible to look away from the wreckage. The resolution is satisfying, but the ride is so diabolically twisted and entertaining that readers will be sorry when it comes to a stop.”
—Shelf Awareness
“Intense, creepy, and classic Rouda. A chilling story, told so well. Don’t miss it!”
—J. T. Ellison, New York Times bestselling author
“Leaves you wanting more.”
—Liv Constantine, bestselling author of The Last Mrs. Parrish
“A smart, wickedly plotted psychological thriller brimming with dark surprises.”
—Heather Gudenkauf, New York Times bestselling author
“Compulsively readable and deeply satisfying psychological suspense.”
—Christina Alger, USA Today bestselling author of The Banker’s Wife
“Alfred Hitchcock meets Patricia Highsmith in this masterful novel of psychological suspense. Quietly horrifying, tightly wound, and diabolical, The Favorite Daughter is a stunning page-turner.”
—A. J. Banner, USA Today, Publishers Weekly, and #1 Amazon bestselling author
“Crafty, unsparing, and gloriously Hitchcockian—a masterful glimpse into a world of privilege and appearance with a nasty edge.”
—Emily Carpenter, bestselling author of Burying the Honeysuckle Girls and Every Single Secret
“Both compelling and addictive, The Favorite Daughter is a roller coaster of a ride that will have you twisting and turning.”
—Liz Fenton and Lisa Steinke, bestselling authors of Girls’ Night Out
Best Day Ever
“A tensely written, shocking book that will hold readers on the edge of their seats to the very last page.”
—Publishers Weekly
“This latest psychological thriller from bestselling Rouda is destined to fly off the shelves, enticing readers to ride along as this multifaceted day in the life of the Stroms unfolds.”
—Library Journal, starred review
“Darkly funny, scandalous, and utterly satisfying.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Rouda keeps the pace taut, the action spare, and the characters intense as she takes readers on an hour-by-hour recounting of a couple’s fateful getaway.”
—Booklist
“This uncomfortably creepy thriller from Kaira Rouda (The Goodbye Year) capitalizes on the current buzz about the prevalence of narcissists and psychopaths, and will surely leave readers wondering how well they really know their loved ones . . . adventurous thriller lovers and fans of Lee Irby’s Unreliable will find Best Day Ever a similarly mind-twisting walk on the sinister side.”
—Shelf Awareness
“It’s clear from the beginning that something sinister is going on in this novel, which will cost you sleep as you race through its pages. Chilling, satisfying suspense.”
—Good Housekeeping
“Best Day Ever is filled with suspense and mystery and is a fast-paced page-turner. You’re in for a treat with this new one from Kaira Rouda.”
—Huffington Post
“Best Day Ever by Kaira Rouda asks us just how well we know those who are closest to us.”
—Hypable
OTHER TITLES BY KAIRA ROUDA
Suspense
Best Day Ever
The Favorite Daughter
All the Difference
Women’s Fiction
Here, Home, Hope
In the Mirror
The Goodbye Year
Romance
The Indigo Island Series
Weekend with the Tycoon
The Billionaire’s Bid
The Trouble with Christmas
Her Forbidden Love
Nonfiction
Real You Incorporated: 8 Essentials for Women Entrepreneurs
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2021 by Kaira Rouda
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Thomas & Mercer, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Thomas & Mercer are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542025942
ISBN-10: 154202594X
Cover design by Damon Freeman
To Harley.
My partner in life.
I love you.
CONTENTS
PART 1: TISH AND JOHN
CHAPTER 1 TISH
CHAPTER 2 JOHN
CHAPTER 3 TISH
CHAPTER 4 JOHN
CHAPTER 5 TISH
CHAPTER 6 JOHN
CHAPTER 7 TISH
CHAPTER 8 JOHN
CHAPTER 9 TISH
CHAPTER 10 JOHN
CHAPTER 11 TISH
CHAPTER 12 JOHN
CHAPTER 13 TISH
PART 2: TISH, KATE, AND ASHLYN
CHAPTER 14 KATE
CHAPTER 15 ASHLYN
CHAPTER 16 TISH
CHAPTER 17 TISH
CHAPTER 18 KATE
CHAPTER 19 ASHLYN
CHAPTER 20 TISH
CHAPTER 21 KATE
CHAPTER 22 TISH
CHAPTER 23 ASHLYN
CHAPTER 24 KATE
CHAPTER 25 ASHLYN
CHAPTER 26 TISH
CHAPTER 27 KATE
CHAPTER 28 ASHLYN
CHAPTER 29 KATE
CHAPTER 30 TISH
CHAPTER 31 KATE
CHAPTER 32 ASHLYN
CHAPTER 33 KATE
CHAPTER 34 TISH
CHAPTER 35 KATE
CHAPTER 36 TISH
CHAPTER 37 KATE
CHAPTER 38 TISH
CHAPTER 39 ASHLYN
CHAPTER 40 KATE
CHAPTER 41 TISH
CHAPTER 42 ASHLYN
CHAPTER 43 KATE
CHAPTER 44 ASHLYN
CHAPTER 45 KATE
CHAPTER 46 TISH
CHAPTER 47 KATE
CHAPTER 48 TISH
CHAPTER 49 KATE
CHAPTER 50 TISH
CHAPTER 51 ASHLYN
CHAPTER 52 KATE
CHAPTER 53 TISH
CHAPTER 54 KATE
CHAPTER 55 ASHLYN
CHAPTER 56 KATE
CHAPTER 57 TISH
CHAPTER 58 KATE
CHAPTER 59 TISH
CHAPTER 60 KATE
CHAPTER 61 ASHLYN
CHAPTER 62 TISH
CHAPTER 63 KATE
CHAPTER 64 KATE
CHAPTER 65 ASHLYN
CHAPTER 66 KATE
EPILOGUE TISH
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PART 1:
TISH AND JOHN
CHAPTER 1
TISH
Despite popular notions to the contrary, it isn’t easy being the next wife.
I mean, sure, I have the benefit of his success without struggling through the “early days,” whatever that means. But I also don’t get to enjoy the open spaces of possibility—the opportunity to create a life together, baggage-free. So as we gather in the conference room to celebrate EventCo’s big news, baggage invades my space.
I note one of the pieces of baggage standing just outside the conference room door: Ashlyn, the opinionated and overly dependent twenty-year-old daughter. For the most part, we have an amicable relationship, one I’ve worked hard to cultivate, and she understands the parameters. I used to babysit her, and we have a certain bond since she told me so many secrets. She thinks I have done likewise.
Next to her stands the steamer trunk of baggage: Kate, wife number one. People say I’m the spitting image of Kate when she was young. And I am. We are both slim with shiny brown hair and big smiles. She is simply older by more than twenty years, a worn version of me. In her, I see my future. Sort of. She can’t seem to stop wearing business suits to the office. I mean, the 1980s are calling, and they want their clothes back. Today she’s wearing all white, meaning she’s either a suffragette or pure as snow. As if.
Despite our differences in age and style, that cliché about men having a type is true. I mean, men aren’t that original. They’re simple beings, easy to figure out. Keep them happy, well fed in all areas if you get my drift, and voilà—a happy life.
Especially after they’ve had success.
Why would you let them slip through your fingers then? That’s when you hold on tight. Sure, they’re more work as they get older, and more successful, but that’s just part of the deal. Some of us know how to keep our men, and some, well, they just don’t. I will hang on. There will not be another wife.
Kate and I make eye contact, and I grin, reveling in the fact that I’m here inside the conference room seated next to John while she’s milling around outside, trying to figure out where to be. Where her place is. Awkward for her, I’m sure.
Oh good, there’s Jennifer, our beautiful vice president of marketing, going out of her way to make Kate feel welcome in the conference room. She’s gushing over John’s past family as if she were a long-lost relative. I should never have allowed her to be hired. Jennifer meets my eye and then quickly finds something to stare at on the floor. I wonder again why I am forced to work around someone who could be ripped from the pages of a fashion magazine: long blonde hair, impossibly smooth skin, big green eyes, and other enhancements. I’m a fool, that’s why. Heaven knows I don’t need John’s attention divided any more than it already is.
The conference room door opens again and in walks Lance Steel—our COO—bald, brilliant, and gorgeous. He slides into a chair two down from me.
“Hey, boss,” he says to John. Lance’s jaw is drawn, intensity radiates from him. He’s always thinking, from what I can tell. John says we were lucky to lure him away from a tech giant, and maybe we were, but I’d appreciate a friendlier COO if I had a choice. I sense Lance watching me, as always, and I meet his stare. I’m not sure if he’s attracted to me or if it’s something else. I assume we’re about the same age, Lance and I, so I’m not interested. I like older men. I squeeze John’s thigh under the table, but he pivots his chair away.
I force a smile as Kate and Ashlyn settle into their seats in the conference room, selecting chairs on the opposite end from me at the large glass table. All the officers and key employees fill the room now—the stakeholders, as they say—numbering twenty-four of us. Ashlyn stares at me across the table, her entitled confidence misplaced. She has no power here. If she had behaved, been a friend after John and I married, maybe things would be different for her. But it’s too late for that. We act like we have a relationship when John’s around, but it’s a lie.
I break away from the brat and look around the table. Almost all the people at the table have been here since the beginning. Their tension and excitement are palpable. Beside me, I feel John shift in his seat. He’s never quite gotten used to this—all of his family being together in one place, despite the fact we all worked here together in ignorant bliss not so long ago.
John stands, commanding the room. He’s wearing a black polo shirt with EventCo stitched in red on the sleeve, black pants, and a big smile. We both dressed Steve Jobs-style, all in black. We planned it this way. Serious. Techy. My hair is pulled back in a low ponytail. My pants and black T-shirt display my curves. Bright-red lipstick completes my look. I know the men in the office notice what I wear, and I enjoy the attention.
John wears a leather bracelet, the one with a metal peace sign on it, a gift from me that I know makes him feel young. We’re ready. The lines beaming from his blue eyes like sunlight convey warmth, experience. I think I fell in love with his eye crinkles.
The sheen on his forehead is the only sign he isn’t feeling 100 percent. I fight the urge to hand him a napkin. Sweat is so unappealing.
“So, how does it feel to be rich?” John begins the applause, and the rest of us join in. My heart pounds in my chest. I for one think being rich is the only way to be. And now, we have so much more, John and I.
John continues, and I feign devout attention. “I know it’s been a tough couple of months, with the quiet period and those nuisance lawsuits, but just look at those shares of EventCo popping!” John points to the television screen in the corner of the sleek conference room. It feels surreal. On a typical business day, charts and dry-erase marker scribbles cover the walls of this room in various bright colors. One of my jobs used to
be wiping these walls.
Today, someone else wiped the walls clean, stark white, like a blank piece of paper. John and his black attire stand out more than usual. I decide to stand up next to him, enjoying the frowns from Kate and Ashlyn.
I smile at them both and wink at Ashlyn before turning my attention back to the TV screen in the corner. It’s tuned to Market Watch. The stock market never mattered that much to me, but now, with EventCo going public, it matters. It matters very much.
“Look at her go!” John exclaims. I jump before realizing he’s talking about the stock. Jeez, I’m not sure why I’m so on edge. I guess it’s just the excitement of today. The last day before everything changes.
John glances at me, a look of concern but mostly of what the heck are you doing standing next to me? in his eyes.
“This is so exciting, honey.” I kiss him on the cheek and whisper, “You should wipe your forehead.” I push a tissue into his hand, but he ignores me.
John continues. “Before we go out there and join the rest of the company to celebrate, I wanted to gather you all here and thank you. Because of your hard work, Kate and I were able to build the company of our dreams. I hope you’re happy with the results, and I hope you’ll still come to work, even if you don’t need the cash anymore.”
I lean into John and smile, sharing the moment in the spotlight again. I wonder if any media are here to capture this happy scene through the glass-front conference room. If they are, it will be a great shot. Me and my man, all in black, standing in front of a white background with an entire team around the conference table staring up at us with pure adulation. A business success stock photo to be sure.
But I don’t see any cameras, unfortunately, even though they should be there. This is a huge moment for EventCo. John started the company with Kate twenty years ago, and it’s grown to become one of central Ohio’s most prominent and well-respected companies. We’re the all-American success story based in the all-American city in the heartland. Come on, you can’t make this stuff up. We processed more than $1 billion in gross ticket sales last month. Successful beyond our wildest dreams, we offer online invitations, party supplies, and a one-stop shop for the hottest concert tickets all rolled into one. When I say “we,” I mean they. My only job since I arrived was to keep John organized and happy: first as his executive assistant and then as his wife. I guess I did my part.