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I nodded. "Yes, I have. Got my Bachelor's and MBA at UT Austin and quickly landed a job with WestRock. Been here ever since."
"Twenty years. Wow." Harris raised his eyebrows, but I could see in his eyes that he already knew all this. "Well, it'll be a long time coming, then."
With two gnarled old fingers, he tapped the stack of papers on his desk, the ones he was handing over to me. "This is the one, old boy.Thisis your golden ticket."
I stare at the papers again, which I've spread out over Bash's beat-up desk. And in my mind, I go over all the details. Everything about her. Everything I need to do to get this right. Everything I've dreamed of for all these years is scrawled between each typed line.
If Harris was telling the truth, this is the last rung on the ladder to success.
I hop back into bed and type out a quick text to Sylvia before turning out the light.
Tomorrow morning, I'm going to get exactly what I need. And no one—not even Denise Elizabeth Lawson—is going to stop me.
CHAPTER5
Denise
Iwake up the next morning to sunlight pouring down uncomfortably onto my eyes. As I try to sit up straight, my head begins to pound, and I fall back onto the pillow, burying my face in the fabric.
Ugh.
Last night was such a mess. It's making me cringe under the covers just thinking about it.
Things started off innocently enough. But as the drinks flowed, so did my lies.
Before I knew it, I told Brett my name was Sylvia. And then Ikissedhim, pretending to be the carefree, confident woman I always wished I was. For a moment, I forgot about my problems and just enjoyed all of the attention. And it felt good.
Reallygood.
One of the things that I've secretly hated most about getting older is the way I've started to feel invisible. It's like I'm slowly disappearing into the background. Like I’m becoming part of the furniture. Like I blend in with the wallpaper.
When I was younger, men would notice me and flirt with me when I went out. Even when my hair was a mess and I was trying to lose the baby weight, I could still go to the store and get a flirty smile or two.
But now that I’m in my forties it feels like everything has changed. Even in social situations, I feel like I'm not quite seen anymore. It's a strange feeling, as if I'm slowly losing my place in the world.
But with Brett, it isn’t like that at all. No man has ever looked at me the way he looked at me last night.
He made me feel desirable. Wanted.
He kissed me like I was his. Like he owned me.
Except now I'm feeling conflicted.
Brett and I are supposed to go out on a date tonight. Do I come clean and tell him the truth?
Or do I continue pretending to be Sylvia, the hot woman he met at the bar last night?
I reach over to my nightstand to check my phone, squinting at the bright light. And when I unlock the screen, my stomach erupts into a plume of butterflies as I see a text from Brett.
Morning gorgeous. I'm looking forward to our date tonight. Steak sound good?
Another cheesy grin spreads across my face. And even though I still haven't decided how to tell him my real name, I decide to throw caution to the wind and text him back.
Steak sounds perfect.
A few seconds later, the little typing bubble appears.
Pick you up at 8. What's your address?
