The Next Wife

by Kaira Rouda

  “What?” I bark at two young women leaning against a wall as I turn the corner. They both jump, and that pleases me.

  Sandra appears like a sentry as I reach the front offices. Running interference for Kate, I assume.

  “Look, I need to speak to Jennifer. Is she in with Kate? I can talk to both of them.” My hands are on my hips. I’m not backing down.

  “You’ll need to meet with her next week. I’m afraid they’ve all left for an off-site photo shoot. It’s quite exciting. They’re posing for a national magazine, a feature about the mother and daughter duo who will lead EventCo into its bright future after the untimely death of the CEO. It’s for a big national magazine.”

  How dare they do this without me? I am the second Mrs. Nelson, part of the family. I feel tears fill my eyes and push them away. I don’t even understand how Kate can own 70 percent of the company when I got John’s half? I’ll need to ask George. I need someone to help me.

  “I should be in that photo session. I’m leading this company into the future. I’m co-president. Tell me where the shoot is.”

  Sandra tilts her head. “I can’t do that. Why don’t you see Nancy, Kate’s assistant, to make an appointment?”

  “I’ll get in whenever I want. I’m co-president.” Are people dense? Do I need to print copies of the will and show it to everyone? I don’t care what Kate says or what fancy math she’s trying to use, I own half.

  Sandra speaks again. “Your title is not co-president. The new will didn’t stipulate a position. It just provided you with ownership. There really is no reason for you to be here. You don’t have a job. You resigned as an assistant, remember? But if you insist on coming in, that’s where you’ll be. Back in the closet. Understood?”

  “Whatever.” I am so mad right now, I could punch her. Hard.

  “Oh, and I’ve opened a file on you. An employee has charged you with harassment. We take those allegations seriously here at EventCo.”

  “I’m not going to forget this.” I can’t help it. I’m pointing my finger at her. “Someone threatened me. What are you going to do about that? Nothing, right? I’ll go get the proof, and then you’d better do something. Investigate or else.”

  “Are you trying to frighten me?” She takes a step back.

  “I’m simply reminding you that I’m your boss. So, you should be more accommodating, do you understand? And when I’m being threatened, you should care.”

  Sandra shakes her head. “So now you’re being threatened?”

  “Someone left a note in my desk drawer.” I drop my voice. “Was it you? Did you leave that note in John’s desk?”

  “You need to leave. Go back to Pineville, Terry Jane.” Sandra turns and before I know it, she’s closing her office door, stranding me in the hallway.

  She just threw my past in my face and walked away from me. She doesn’t know what she’s stirring, the pot she’s messing with. This all may be her doing. She is the HR officer. She can rummage through anyone’s desk with impunity. But somehow, I don’t think she’s my only problem. All of these people are going to pay. No more nice Tish. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and call George as I walk back to my tiny closet of an office.

  “I’m going to take them all down. I don’t care if I lose money, too. I want them all to suffer.”

  George blows out a breath. “You need to calm down, honeybunch. Right now.”

  That’s the last thing I need. One more person telling me what to do. “Just be sure you’ve covered everything. Make certain I’m secure in all of this. Make sure there is no crack in that will. Do you understand? Kate can’t win.” I hang up on George before I hear his reply. He’d better have my back.

  I’ve changed my mind. Instead of running this place, I will ruin it.

  CHAPTER 54

  KATE

  A photo shoot is the last thing I feel like doing, but at least it gets Ashlyn and me away from the menace masquerading as an employee and wrecking John’s office. Two can play the media game, Tish, but only one of us has done it before. And I’m good at it, despite being forced into this photo shoot long before I would have chosen to push my daughter into the media spotlight.

  But it’s fine. If it’s good for EventCo, I’m in. We’ll prove to the investors that despite John’s death, we’re stronger than ever. The magazine also gets the exclusive about our new Forever product. I’m beyond excited to roll it out.

  Once Sandra had escorted Tish to the back, I went into John’s office and tidied up, as much as I could. I found the note I’d left in the desk drawer crumpled up and tossed on the floor. I slipped it into my pocket. Maybe the note did it, or maybe it was the screen saver? Either way, her reaction made me smile.

  What are a couple of little threats among friends?

  I’m still surprised how well it worked.

  It’s silly, but every once in a while, it feels good to be a step ahead of your enemy. From the looks of the office destruction, she got the message.

  I am back in my office by the time Jennifer and Ashlyn appear outside of my door.

  “Ready for the shoot?” Jennifer asks.

  “Give me ten minutes,” I say. “Ashlyn, can we chat in private?”

  My daughter needs to understand the importance of everything that has happened today. I will make sure she does.

  CHAPTER 55

  ASHLYN

  As I look at my mom, really look at her, I realize how strong, how brave she has been. And how much her heart must have broken. I’m filled with a deep sympathy for her I’ve never felt. And I’m surprised at the new emotion inside me: I’m furious with my dad.

  This is all my dad’s fault. Tish is his fault. If he hadn’t been unfaithful, my mom wouldn’t have suffered. She’s been so lonely since he left her. And then, he flaunted Tish in front of her people, her company.

  And he took all of her friends, except Christine. They all sided with Dad over Mom. I hated coming home, finding her drunk, so sad, mourning for the man she spent her whole life with.

  He just up and left. How could he do that? As for my mom, I’m not sure what all she’s done, but I know she’s done it all for me.

  I think she has been in charge of EventCo from its founding. I think she just let my dad think he was for a time to get the IPO money in the door from the boys’ club of investment banking. My mom is in charge of everything. Tish just didn’t realize it.

  Neither did I.

  CHAPTER 56

  KATE

  We sit facing each other across my desk.

  “Are you doing OK, honey?” I ask. “You haven’t changed your mind about the publicity shoot, have you?”

  “I want to do the photo shoot with you,” she says. “But I’m worried about Tish. What she’ll do to you and to the office.”

  “She won’t do anything to me. Wouldn’t dare,” I say.

  “I hope you’re right,” she says. “Mom, I know Dad hurt you, so much.”

  “Thanks for saying that. You’re right. We built a full life together. Family. Business. He threw it all away,” I say.

  “But you were the last person he called, ever. I have the proof on his phone. He still loved you,” she says.

  “Maybe, but there was a lot of damage done.” I swivel my chair back and forth. “All of this is a moot point. It’s the past. We need to get going. We need to move forward.”

  “Mom, one last question. Why did you use the name Mabel to communicate with Dad?”

  “Oh, that. You know Tish wouldn’t allow your father and me to talk directly, and there was a lot we needed to cover, with the IPO and everything.”

  She nods. “I get that. But why the name Mabel?”

  “It was a nickname, from when we first met. I know, sort of sentimental.”

  “Tish knew it was you, despite the name,” Ashlyn says. “You really got her fired up, that’s for sure. Maybe on purpose?”

  “No. I was just helping Dad through the stress of the IPO. If she read into things, what c
an I say, honey? Makes me look smarter than I am,” I say.

  I can tell Ashlyn is about to ask more questions when a text lights up my phone. It’s from Bob. You are right. Mary Loveless and Sarah Byrne will admit, for a price, they never witnessed John sign anything. Congratulations. We have an attorney taking their statements now. Handwriting expert agrees John’s signature is a fake, too. We have enough to take to the judge and get this thing invalidated.

  “Yes!” I leap out of my chair.

  “What is it, Mom?” Ashlyn asks.

  “We found our crack in the will. The witnesses were phony, and they’ll admit it. The handwriting was faked. It’s over,” I say.

  “That’s great news!” Ashlyn says.

  Jennifer knocks on my office door. “Ready?”

  “More than ready,” I answer. Glad for the diversion. “Come on, Ashlyn. Let’s go show the world who’s boss.”

  The world should know Kate Nelson is holding all the cards.

  CHAPTER 57

  TISH

  I’m pacing back and forth in my kitchen. The same kitchen I can’t wait to off-load onto some unsuspecting new owner. The heating and cooling guy was here earlier and disconnected the thermostats from the app. He says they’ll work like regular ones now, thank god. The tech guy Chris called should be here any minute to unlink the music system from that app. I’m getting my damn house under control.

  The real reason I’m pacing, truth be told: I’m lonely. Nobody at work will talk to me. I don’t have any friends. I need to start playing tennis. Stat. And what was stupid Kate saying about owning most of EventCo? I don’t understand. I need to find a way to scare Kate some more. I like it when she’s afraid of me. But no one at EventCo would tell me where the lame photo shoot was, and mostly, it seemed, they were laughing at me.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a message from Uncle George. We have trouble, sugar. They bought off our witnesses. Better fold up the con. Move on.

  What? No. I text: No way. I don’t understand. Call me.

  I wait. He doesn’t call. I call him, and it goes to voice mail. I fight the urge to throw my phone across the room.

  This isn’t a con, not really. This was my life. But now it’s over. I’m surprised when tears spill over my eyes. I’ve lost. Kate won. I’m glad I left the office. I can’t have anyone seeing me like this. I need a new plan, apparently. I dab at my eyes, careful not to ruin my makeup. Fine, I will forget about the company, I’ll forget about this place.

  Which reminds me, I haven’t heard from that real estate hunk yet. No worries, though. I’ve decided I’ll be in residence at the Canopy by Hilton downtown until I find the perfect place. I won’t spend another night in this horrible home. I swear it’s haunted. Even as I hope it’s not me who is haunted.

  A brief yet terrifying image of John as a ghost flies through my mind before I push it away. John died a cheater, and in that sense, he earned what he got. He’d better not be haunting me because he knows I always win. At least he knows that now.

  I pull two large suitcases out from the storage closet as the whole house music system begins blaring the song “Who Are You” by the Who.

  The windows are closed, and for once, the house is a pleasant temperature. I can outlast a little loud music. I open my suitcase, find my noise-canceling headphones, and pop them over my ears. One point for Tish.

  I toss a few outfits into my suitcase, sexy dresses for evening and a couple of workout and tennis clothes for next week. Shoes and purses, five in each suitcase, are next. I open the safe and put on one of my most expensive gifts from John, a long gold necklace with diamonds sparkling every half an inch or so along the chain. It’s to die for, darling. I pull out my largest diamond studs, and instead of my travel wedding ring, I’ll wear the real rock from John. I will look like the spoiled wife I was when I check into my suite downtown.

  I close the safe and realize somehow I need to get all of this out of here and into my new place. The only things I care about are my clothes and jewelry. The rest is all John’s stuff. I will pay Sonja to bring the contents of my closet to my suite at the Canopy. I’ll have them set everything up on rolling racks in the adjoining room. And I’ll have Sonja organize it all. She’ll handle that, and then I’ll fire her, too. She seems overly loyal to John and Kate. Overly attached to the past.

  I am the future. That’s who I am. The music still blares as I make my way downstairs to the kitchen. As I stand in the kitchen, the electric blackout shades on the windows in the house start to roll down. I’m plunged into darkness even though it’s sunny outside. My house is a fiend.

  I push aside the electric shades and open all the windows in the kitchen before realizing the music will carry to the golf course.

  I need a fresh start. I’m not going to hang out in downtown Columbus. No, Paris is nice this time of year. Or London. Or, well, anywhere luxurious. I’ll go away for a price. And I know who will be willing to pay just about anything. I pull out my phone.

  I text Kate: How about coming over to my house for a discussion. We need to work things out between us. For Ashlyn’s sake. I don’t understand what you said about owning seventy percent of the company, but I do know I have a right to something for being married to John. Don’t you want me gone? Maybe we can make a deal?

  I watch my phone, pick it up every minute for the next ten minutes. I check to be sure I sent the message to the right phone number. The contact in my phone is labeled Old Mrs. Nelson. Yep, that’s her.

  Finally, my screen lights up. It’s Kate. She texts: I’m busy. Sorry.

  I’m so tired of these people. I want out. Kate’s my multimillion-dollar golden ticket.

  I text. I can be reasonable. Buy me out.

  She texts: Out of what? I can prove the will is fake. Witnesses, Mary and Sarah, signed statements. Notary ledger is being subpoenaed. John’s signature declared a fake per expert. You’re done.

  Well, shit. I remember George never called me back. And his stupid receptionist, Mary, has turned on me. I’m alone, as usual. Ok, but I’m still here. I can make your life miserable. I can go to the press. Ruin the IPO.

  I watch the bubbles as Kate responds. She must have a lot to say. I’m about to send another text when hers finally comes through. You already tipped off the media.

  I text: Yup. But I’ll keep quiet from now on, for a price.

  Kate texts: You killed John. You sabotaged Ashlyn’s car. You tried to take my company with that fake will. You tried to take everything.

  Interesting. I wonder what she thinks she knows. She’s bluffing. She has no proof. Just Ashlyn’s stupid speculations.

  Still my hand shakes as I reply, His heart stopped. His fault. Ashlyn is a brat who should go back to school. I don’t want the company anymore. I know what you want. You can have it.

  I yank up the shade and stare outside at the backyard and the golf course beyond. Those guys out there on the golf course are John’s people. They were never mine. These neighbors aren’t my type. The whole scene in the suburbs never suited me. This is a place people come to die, the last stop before a retirement home. I’m so glad I’m getting out of here. I’m about to be super rich. I search for flights on my phone and discover several to New York this evening. I book a seat, first class of course, and when the travel site screen prompts me, I decide yes, I would like to add a luxury hotel suite. So I do. From New York, I can go anywhere in the world.

  My phone lights up with a notice that there’s motion at the front door. Likely it’s a golfer coming to complain about the late afternoon noise. Or worse. It’s probably the neighborhood security guard writing me another citation for not understanding how to control my house. It’s like if you have a dog that keeps running away and digging up your neighbor’s yard. Sure, it’s not you doing the digging, but still, you’re responsible. Until you put some ground-up cherry pits in the dog’s food, then you’re not. That was a lesson dear old Momma taught me when she killed my puppy.

  Kate te
xts: This is your last chance. I’ll be over at 7. You better be telling the truth.

  I text: I am.

  “Coming,” I yell, even though I know the person at the front door can’t hear me.

  I pull open the door. It’s the stupid rent-a-security-guard cop again.

  “Mrs. Nelson. Good evening.” He’s yelling and points to my noise-canceling headphones.

  I yank them off. “Good evening, Officer.”

  “Ma’am, your music. We’ve had several complaints.” He’s opening his little citation pad and begins to write.

  Who cares? “As I told you, I can’t control the house. It’s haunted. I’m moving. Tell them all I’m moving. Gone tonight for good. That’s going to make all of us really happy.”

  “You know what, ma’am. You’re right. I’ll let them know. Have a great evening.” He is laughing as he walks down my front path.

  I hate them all. I walk back inside and just like that, the music stops. I know something else will happen soon, but for now, I enjoy the silence.

  I walk out to the garage, and I find a picnic basket. We only used it once, but it’s so cute, I should have used it more. The basket is woven, with a red-checkered lining and a small wooden cheese board. The board has a message stamped on it: BRIE HAPPY.

  The message warms my heart as I carry everything inside. I’ll make a proper cocktail party for me and Kate. We deserve it after all we’ve been through. I start whistling and preparing for Kate’s arrival. This is the sophisticated way to handle our disagreements. We will come to an understanding. We had better. I make two different batches of margaritas. One in a glass pitcher I’ll leave in the kitchen. This one is to celebrate if we strike a deal. I tuck the thermos with the special batch inside the picnic basket and take it to the garage.

  This is the batch to serve if we don’t. I pile freshly rinsed cherries in a crystal bowl and carry them to the living room. I fluff the couch pillows, and as I do, I dream about Paris. I’ve always wanted to visit. I thought it would be with John, he promised me we would go see the City of Light.