The Next Wife Kaira Rouda (book club reads TXT) 📖

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 entrée 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.”

“Did you?”

Ashlyn didn’t answer. I followed her out of the closet and into the long grand hallway. She stopped at the top of the stairs, turned, and looked at me. “Not at first. But then, when she started having her boyfriend over during the day instead of taking care of me, well, that’s when I told. When she betrayed me, I betrayed her.”

“I guess a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do. Listen, you can tell on me. It’s fine. I