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“Interesting,” Nancy says, more to herself than me.
“What?”
“What else has he been doing that’s odd?” she asks.
“Last night he seemed flustered, which isn’t like him. He was just acting different,” I admit.
“Emily.” I turn at the sound of my name to see Mark coming towards us. I force a smile, trying to be polite.
“Hey.”
“I’ll need you to stay late tonight. There’s an event over at the Carlton and I thought we should go over and say hello to a few people. A lot of the people there make donations to the library.” He adjusts his tie that’s already perfectly straight. It’s just something else he does that annoys me.
“Okay,” is all I can come up with. I don’t want to go somewhere with just him. I know Dylan wouldn’t like it either. It almost seems like a date or something. “Nancy, you’re coming, right?” I throw out really quick.
She opens her mouth to respond, but Mark cuts her off. “I can only bring one person.”
“Didn’t want to go,” Nancy mumbles. I second that.
“Take a long lunch to run home and change into something more suitable. We’ll leave here around five thirty.” He turns, dismissing us.
Crap.
I remind myself this is my job and I have to go.
“He’s been here a hot minute and I already can’t stand his ass,” Nancy says from behind me. I second that but keep it to myself. I pull my phone out, checking Dylan’s schedule to see if he can pick up the boys, but I see he’s booked up all day. I text our babysitter and see if she’s free.
She responds instantly, telling me she’ll pick up the boys and not to worry about paying her. She says we overpaid her yesterday and it’s not a problem.
What? I narrow my eyes at the phone. “What are you up to, Dylan?” I mutter.
“Who? The husband?” Nancy asks, clearly having heard me.
“Yes. He used our babysitter yesterday, but he told me he picked up the boys.”
“An affair!” Nancy gasps dramatically, and I burst out laughing. I laugh so hard tears start to leak down my face.
“Yeah, right. My husband would never cheat,” I say, one thousand percent certain that’s not it. “No, he’s up to something else.” I think I’m going to go on a little mission to throw him off his game.
“It’s cute how well you two know each other.” She says it like she really means it.
“I’m going to head to lunch. Will you drop those on my desk when you’re done going over them?”
“Sure.” She picks up the papers and goes back to reading them.
I head to my office and am thankful Mark isn’t there. I grab my purse then head out. I make a quick stop at the house to change, still annoyed that Mark asked me to wear something nicer. I know I have pants on, but they’re dressy.
I find a black sleeveless dress that falls to my knees. It hugs me at the top but flares out at the bottom. I have a jacket that goes with it so it doesn’t show too much skin. I slip my flats off and put on a pair of heels. I reach under my dress, pulling my panties off and putting them into my purse, coming up with an idea.
When I get to Dylan’s office I see his assistant Jonathan is typing away on his computer. He does all of Dylan’s paperwork because Dylan can’t stand it. You’d be surprised how much there is when it comes to construction. Dylan’s company started out as just light remodeling. Now he custom builds million-dollar homes. My man has come so far. I remember many nights staying up late with him, planning projects and doing the paperwork myself. It got to be too much with having newborn twins. When we finally found Marie, who was his assistant for the last five years, she was a godsend. But she moved across the country to be near her grandchildren and I still miss her like crazy.
“Mrs. Wallace,” Jonathan greets me. He’s always way too dressed up, in my opinion. Today he even has on a bow tie. You’d think he worked in a law firm or something. Not a place where men come in covered in dust and dirt half the time.
“Hi.” I give him a little wave before heading towards Dylan’s office.
“He’s not here, ma’am,” Jonathan says with a little hesitation in his voice.
I stop, turning to look at him before pulling out my cell phone. Jonathan might annoy the crap out of me, but he always has Dylan’s schedule marked down with everything.
“I don’t know where he is, ma’am,” he adds. Then he mutters something about my husband randomly disappearing. “Would you like me to pencil you in?”
“Pencil me in?” I roll my eyes at him. Turning back, I head for Dylan’s office. I pull my panties out of my purse and toss them onto his desk before grabbing a pen and paper and leaving him a note.
