Page 8 of Married to Lies

Rei: Okay?

Rei: OKAY?!

Rei: You can’t just send a text like that. I need more words.

Unknown number: So... you don’t want me to find you?

Rei: I don’t like the thought of you always watching and me not knowing who you are.

Rei: It’s better if we meet. But I don’t want to know when we’ll meet because then I’ll probably panic about it happening, so it’s best if you surprise me. But a GOOD surprise. Not a scary surprise. Don’t jump out of the bushes or anything.

Unknown number: I’ll find you. But not in a surprising way.

Rei: Okay.

Unknown number: So it’s okay when you say okay?

Rei: YES. Now stop texting me and do something about it.

Rei: Not saying that anything will happen if you do. I mean, I don’t even know you.

Rei: But I’m open to knowing you.

Unknown: That’s a good sign. Have a good evening, Rei.

Rei: You too, not-stalker.

Five minutes later, I sent another text as more possibilities came to mind.

Rei: But just don’t do it after five PM.

Rei: Or before ten AM.

Rei: I’m a middle-of-the-day kind of gal.

I watched my phone for a moment as I rode to another meeting with my acting CEO, but he didn’t reply. That probably just meant he was good at listening. Or that he didn’t like multiple texts.

My friend Jada told me that some people weren’t a fan of stream-of-consciousness texting, but I didn’t see the difference if the words came in one text bubble or three. Besides, sticky-note guy had no room to judge my communication skills. No one texted me “okay” but my aging father in response to an emotional text message.

A new fear hit me. What if my secret admirer was an old man? I mean, all secret admirers couldn’t be super handsome yet inexplicably shy rich guys, could they? Probably not, considering average population statistics.

I sighed heavily.

George said, “A lot of sighing going on back there, Ms. Rei.”

I shook my head at him, meeting his gaze in the rearview mirror. “Men are confusing, you know?” Then my eyes widened as a new possibility struck me. What if my secret admirer was a woman?

A million questions echoed through my mind as George stopped beside the Radiant Cleaning office so I could meet with Conrad. A temp sat at the receptionist’s desk, looking harried and surrounded by piles of paperwork. Where had that even come from? I wondered as the temp asked, “Can I help you?”

“I have a meeting with Conrad...” I said, trying to figure out what all the papers were. It looked like how-to manuals for using digital calendars and Microsoft Word. Oh brother.

He gave me a confused look behind thick glasses. “Who’s Conrad?”

“Conrad Hale?” I said incredulously. How could he not know the man in charge?

No look of recognition registered in his magnified eyes.

“The CEO!” I nearly cried.