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

loyalists are housed—sales and computer geeks mostly—and into the lobby atrium, the beloved Ping-Pong table’s space.

I cover my mouth and stifle a yawn. It’s hard to sleep without John in bed next to me. As soon as I closed my eyes, I’d see him, foaming at the mouth, fist clenched on his chest. I bolted upright, wide-awake, and stayed that way. During the night, my heater turned on and went haywire, too, adding to my misery.

My house went after me again when I was getting ready for work. This time, some ridiculous hick music switched on in my bedroom suite, blaring Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire” at 6:00 a.m. The expert at the A/V and security company who stopped by for an emergency visit this morning can’t seem to come up with an explanation.

“Ma’am, we’ve checked the system. Everything is as it should be. Are you sure you’re not just imagining things? You have suffered a big loss. The mind can do powerful things. All the stress.” He shoved his hands in his pockets with a shrug.

“I am grieving the loss of my husband, but what I’m more upset about is the loss of control of my house. I expect answers, not lame sympathy. Understand?” Had I been too firm? I think not. My house is haunted.

Focus, Tish. Lance’s office is next door to John’s, and I knock on his closed door and pop my head inside.

“I need to get into John’s office. Can you help?” I blink, a damsel in distress.

Lance furrows his brow. “Yes, sure. We changed the locks last week, ah, after he died. You’re just stopping by to clean some things out, I assume?”

“Sure, yep.” I don’t feel the need to explain myself. I step into John’s corner office—my office now, the mirror image of Kate’s except mine is larger—and close the door behind me.

As I pull out the black leather desk chair to sit down, there is a knock on the door. It’s not Kate, of course not. I smile through the glass at Ashlyn. What a surprise.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, walking into my office without permission. She pulls the door closed behind her before leaning against it. “I want to make it clear we won’t be hanging out anymore. We aren’t friends. I don’t even know you. Everything you ever told me was a lie. Remember your sob story about your marriage? Remember how you told me the dentist dumped you?”

“Yes, of course,” I say, pulling open John’s desk drawer and rummaging around.

“A lie. Ron says you left him. Without so much as a goodbye. He really hates you,” she says.

What? How does she know his name? How did she find him? I slam the desk drawer closed and stand up.

“I don’t even know what you’re saying.” I am furious. She spoke to Ron? I’m livid. I let out a deep breath as my stomach turns. “Can you just go? Get out of my office.”

“Oh, I talked to your mom. She wants to know where you are. Should I tell her?”

“You what? How dare you.” I walk to the door and face her. She has gone too far.

“I just thought I should learn a little more about you, Terry Jane,” Ashlyn says. “Your momma was very helpful. She wants me to connect you two. Says your stepdad died under mysterious circumstances, sort of like my dad.”

“Your dad died of a heart attack.” I feel my hands clench into fists. I tell myself to take a breath. “She can’t know where I am. She’s dangerous.”

“It’s not fun when people mess with your family, is it?” Ashlyn asks. “How about you leave now, get out of town even, and I won’t tell your mom where to find you.”

“You wouldn’t dare. And I’m not leaving. I have worked too hard to get here,” I say.

Ashlyn laughs. It’s guttural, cruel. “You’ve worked hard? You’re delusional.”

I don’t care what George said. I’m beginning to realize I’m better off without her. Good riddance. I smile and touch my heart to feign compassion. “I know you’re still getting used to the notion that your dad is gone, and you’re lashing out like a child. But you’re not calling my momma again. As for this office, it’s mine.”

She crosses her arms. She’s digging in. I’m surprised. I didn’t think she had it in her, not against me.

“You’re wrong. You’ll see. The thing is, Dad left the company to Mom and me. That was part of their divorce deal. You get your jewelry and some money.”

Think again, sweetheart. “Actually, your father revisited his will just before he died. He had complete faith in me, and you’re so young, too young to handle a company like this. He named me co-president, with your mom, should anything happen to him. And shockingly, it did. You’re picking the wrong side here.”

“You’re only four years older than me. Don’t tell me I’m too young to figure things out.” Her voice wavers. I’ve outmaneuvered her. She knows it.

“You did something to my dad. I’m going to prove it,” she says, pointing her finger at me. “Your own mom says you’re capable.”

“She’s crazy. She’ll say anything.” I need to soften my tone, even if she is accusing me of things. She’s just confused, and sad. “Look, it’s hard, I know. I miss John, too.”

Ashlyn stares at me and shakes her head. I hear her mumble, “OMG.”

I turn on the charm. “College is special. I never had a chance to go myself, but you do. Senior year is supposed to be the best. We can worry about all this business stuff after you graduate. I’ll keep everything at EventCo under control. Sound good? Nothing works if my momma shows up here. Do you understand me? That would be a bad, dangerous choice. She’d for sure bring this whole place down.”

Her mouth moves as if she wants to say something but can’t. Poor girl. I wonder what’s running through her little entitled brain.

“I don’t believe you. I don’t