Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Instead, Liam’s acting like he caught me.
“I don’t know why you’re bringing my wife into this,” I say very slowly. Enunciating every word. Buying myself time to think.
“Wife is one way to describe her. I might describe her as a puzzle.” He pours himself another drink. “From the outside, it seems like your marriage to Fiona is real. There’s a license. There’s a judge that swears he met with you two in Vegas. There are even receipts showing you stayed in the Bellagio. I met a very nice young maid who claims she remembers you and Fiona.”
I work my jaw. That’s much, much more thorough than I guessed anyone would be. And he’s either lying about the maid or I got lucky, because I didn’t think to set that piece of the story in place.
“What your point?” I ask, trying not to commit myself.
“My point is that while it seems real, there are holes. Like, why no social media? Why no friends, no family? I’m sure your pals at that little organization would’ve loved to be present. What’s it called again?”
“Atlas,” I say hoarsely. Nerves roiling my stomach.
“Right, that’s it. The Atlas Organization. Tell me, why not invite them?”
“Whirlwind,” I say. “Things moved fast.”
He nods as if that’s perfectly reasonable. He tosses back the second drink. “Here’s the thing. I think you’re lying. I think your relationship with Fiona seems strange. But what I don’t understand is why? What are you getting out of it? What did you offer her? It’s okay, Gareth, really. My father might talk a big game about family, blah, blah, blah, but I truly don’t give a fuck why you’re married to your wife. Insofar as it doesn’t hurt the family. But if I find out that you’ve been keeping something important from us—” He gestures with the flat of his hand across his throat.
Sweat dribbles down from under my arms. I watch Liam carefully, head spinning. How did he figure all this out? Why is he so fixated on my relationship with Fiona? Everyone else accepts it as given—everyone but Liam.
He has the power to shut this down. I remember the way Orin looked at him back in Boston. The respect in his expression.
If Liam tells his father that there’s something wrong with my marriage to Fiona, everything will fall apart.
“My marriage to Fiona is perfectly normal,” I finally say, choosing my fate. “Go ahead and ask your father. We’ve been around him for two days now. If there were something wrong—”
“My father is getting old and slow.” Liam comes toward me, eyes sharp. “You’re still young. If he hires you, brings you into the family, I’ll inherit your tenure. Which means I care very much about who you are and what you want.”
“I only want the job,” I say, forcing myself to stay focused.
Liam stops by my side and slaps my shoulder. “Wonderful,” he says. “Absolutely wonderful to hear. I look forward to working with you.” He slips past me, out of the room, and down the hall.
I watch him go, ears ringing.
He knows something’s going on.
Liam’s going to sniff around, and if I’m not careful, he might smell all the rotten truth lurking in the heart of my marriage to Fiona.
Fuck. Fiona. I turn and hurry away, back to the living room. I’m in a panic, worried Liam might find her and interrogate her. I don’t think she’s ready for a man like him, not yet anyway. We’ll need more time. More work—
“Fiona,” I say, coming into the room in a rush.
She looks over, smiling happily. She’s sitting at the table playing cards with Orin and Molly. “Gareth,” she says, giving me a mock-sultry wink. “There are you, husband.”
“Your wife is awful at Rummy 500,” Molly says with a laugh.
“But I am very good at drinking champagne.” Fiona raises the glass. “Here’s to that.”
Relief floods me. She’s safe. No Liam, no questions. I drift over, pushing my anxiety away.
This is happening. We’re making it work, even if Liam’s suspicious. He doesn’t have any proof—only a lingering curiosity. If I keep my head down, play the part, do my job, everything will be fine.
I’ll divorce Fiona, blow it up like an atom bomb. We’ll move on. She’ll be free.
Free to be someone else’s wife. To be the mother to someone else’s children.
The idea’s like a stab in my chest.
“We should get going,” I say gently. “The flight’s in two hours.”
“It’s been so good having you,” Orin says, shaking my hand.
Molly gives me a warm hug. “Come back any time. And I really mean that.”
“Thank you,” I say. “And thank you both. I look forward to a long and successful partnership.”
“Here, here,” Orin says, laughing.
Fiona says her goodbyes. I steer her from the room and out of the building. Liam’s not around, but the car’s idling nearby, waiting to take us home.