The Yiddish Gangster's Daughter (A Becks Ruchinsky Mystery Book 1) Joan Cochran (rom com books to read TXT) 📖

on the counter between us and press the speaker button while he opens the refrigerator and pulls out a pitcher of iced tea.

“Becks?”

The voice sounds vaguely familiar.

“It’s Eva. Daniel’s office manager.”

I’m surprised to hear from her and glance at Daniel. He raises his eyebrows. He’d told me a week earlier he caught her stealing from petty cash and fired her. She’s got to be calling to get her job back.

What comes next is the last thing I expect.

“I hate making this call but there’s no point in beating around the bush. You know Dawn?”

It’s a rhetorical question. She knows I hired Daniel’s assistant a year earlier.

“Well, your husband and Dawn are having an affair.”

A crash sounds behind me and I look up. Ice tea’s all over the floor. Daniel pulls a stream of paper towel off the roll next to the sink and kneels to wipe up the liquid and shards of glass.

“Can you believe that? How could she say such a thing?” I ask.

I know she’s lying. But her accusation still stings.

When my husband stands, his expression stuns me. I expect anger. Or shock. But his face is white and he’s breathing heavily. “That’s crazy,” he says, tossing a wad of towels in the trash before shoving his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t realize she was so angry at me.”

“What do you think is going on?”

“She was upset when I let her go. Couldn’t believe I caught her stealing. Maybe she figured lying to you was the easiest way to get back at me. And she was jealous of Dawn.”

“Dawn? What did Eva have against Dawn?”

“I’m not sure. Dawn came crying to me one day, claiming that Eva was jealous and making her life miserable.”

“Since when do employees confide in you? I thought you stayed away from office politics.”

I do most of Daniel’s hiring and firing and employees tend to contact me with personnel issues.

“I don’t know. I guess she felt more comfortable, that is . . . maybe she wanted . . .” He waves a hand in the air, at a loss.

It makes sense—sort of. And I want to believe him. But something feels wrong. He never mentioned Dawn’s outburst. And his stance, hands shoved in his pockets and back straight, seems stiff and unnatural. Worst of all, he hasn’t reached for my hand or taken me in his arms to reassure me Eva’s lying. For the first time in our marriage, I’m afraid to approach him. My heart races, as disbelief battles horror.

When he glances around the room without meeting my gaze, I become light headed and grab the counter.

“Something isn’t right here,” I whisper. “Are you telling the truth?” I’ve never accused him of lying and feel sick at the words. “Because—”

“How can you accuse me?” he says before I finish. “I’m hurt you’d consider Eva’s word over mine. Particularly after she stole from me.”

He doesn’t sound hurt. He sounds angry and irritated—and steps back as though frightened of what I’ll do or say. When he pulls his hands out of his pockets and crosses his arms, it hits me:

“Eva never stole from you, did she?” I say, speaking slowly as I work things out in my mind. It’s like pulling taffy from an old-fashioned machine. “You fired her so she wouldn’t learn about your affair with Dawn. You knew she’d tell me.”

“Hold on there. I wouldn’t lie about Eva stealing. She took five hundred dollars, for God’s sake.”

I stare at him. Does he think I’m stupid? That I don’t see his indignation as a pathetic attempt to distract me? My stomach churns. “I can’t believe this. You had sex with Dawn.”

“No. I didn’t—I wouldn’t—” He looks me in the eye and his voice breaks. When he drops his head in his hands, I almost pity him. “I’m sorry.” He speaks between sobs. “I never meant this to happen. I love you.”

Sure I pushed him to confess. But now that he has, I don’t want to believe him.

“You never meant to hurt me?” I say when I regain my voice. My knees are so weak I barely make it to the table to sit. “Didn’t you think about what it would do to us? To Josh and Gabriel? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

He looks up and his eyes are red and puffy. “I don’t know. It was just after my mother died. And nothing seemed to make sense. I got caught up in the moment and—”

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear it.” He flinches. We’ve always treated each other with respect and I’m as shocked by my words as he is. I’ve never used coarse language around him. But everything’s different now. The rules have changed.

It’s funny how we worry about awful things happening, but aren’t prepared when they do. I’d spoken with my friend Leisa about the anger and depression she experienced when her husband left. But she didn’t say anything about the humiliation that overwhelms me. Other people know about this affair! If Eva knows, so does Mary, who handles his schedule. I imagine the pharmaceutical reps who come to his office to push drugs joking about it in Daniel’s parking lot.

Successful doctor screws his nurse and his wife is the last to know it. It’s a cliché. But it’s happening to me.

I stare at Daniel, speechless. When he comes to the table and pulls out the chair across from me, I cringe.

He either misses or ignores my reaction. “I know we can get past this,” he says, reaching for my hand. I jerk it away. “We need to sit down and—.”

“Talk?”

“Of course. We love each other. We can work this out.”

“Right. Just like that. Talk about it and the problem disappears.”

“Come on, sweetheart. I’m not saying it’ll be easy.”

“You’re damn right it won’t. I want you out of here.”

“You can’t mean that. It’s been over for weeks. You’re the one I love.”

“You wouldn’t have slept with Dawn if you loved me,” I say, my anger