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I longed to text back that she was clueless. That what she was asking me to do was so beside the point, it was laughable.
Sure thing,I texted back instead. At least it would give me something to do!
I wandered upstairs to the enormous primary suite. It also looked out on the Charles and had spectacular views of the Boston skyline. I sat on the bed and ran my hands down the pristine, cool comforter, imagining sleeping next to Bryce in the vast bed that night. I couldn’t wait for him to come home from the office, to be reunited with him…
I wandered to the closet. I was unsurprised to find an entire wardrobe in exactly my size. There were a ton of dresses, blouses, skirts, and shoes, all completely brand-new and designer. I wondered if Midge had shopped for all of this and had it sent down or if Bryce had other employees who did such things. It was crazy to think someone had bought all these clothes forme. I ran my hand down the rack, reveling in the feel of the silky shirts and luxurious-feeling fabrics.
I checked the time—Bryce wouldn’t be home for hours.
I decided to put everything else aside and have some fun for once. I went to the bureau and selected some gorgeous lace lingerie from La Perla. I’d googled the brand after Midge insisted that I wear it. The thongs sold for three hundred dollars a pop! I slid on a pair of red ones and found a matching bra. Never in my dreams did I expect to end up wearing high-end lingerie in a multi-million-dollar home. I couldn’t believe I was in Beacon Hill, waiting for my billionaire husband to come home from work.
I was feeling myself in the red lingerie—wearing a thousand dollars worth of red lace could do that to a girl! I stalked to the gorgeous white-tiled bathroom. I found the stockpile of expensive makeup and sat down at the expertly lit mirror. I was no Midge, but I did the best I could, grooming my brows, applying light foundation, putting on mascara and a little lip gloss. I returned to the bedroom and whipped out my phone when I was done. I laid back on the bed and made kissy faces at the camera, making sure a glimpse of the red bralette was visible.
Thinking of you,I texted Bryce.
He wrote back immediately.Are you fucking kidding me?I’M STUCK IN A BOARD MEETING—FML!He included a crying with laughter emoji.
I’ll be waiting for you,I wrote back.
Don’t you dare take that off,he wrote back.I’ll be home as soon as I can.
Sighing, I decided to get dressed and take the pictures that Olivia had asked for. First, I put on a proper navy sheath and took selfies by the fireplace. Next, I changed into a silk blouse, a black skirt, and knee-high suede boots. I posed in the gorgeous kitchen, smiling, acting like I had some actual business wearing insanely expensive clothes and grinning in a billionaire’s kitchen. I changed again, this time into a formal red gown that swept the floor because…why the hell not? I stood by the windows, ensuring the glittering skyline was visible in the background.
I sent the files to Olivia, then padded to the kitchen for a glass of water.
As soon as I had a sip, something felt wrong. My stomach twisted.
I ran into the downstairs powder room—no small feat in the gown—and threw up, waves of nausea rippling through me. I slumped on the cool tile floor, waiting for the next round. But as suddenly as the sick feeling had come, it was gone. Weird!
I went upstairs and changed out of the dress, feeling off-kilter and more than a little silly about the pictures I’d taken. But Olivia texted me back:These are great. Nice work!At least I’d accomplished something that day.
I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. As soon as I tasted the minty toothpaste, it happened again: I threw up suddenly and definitively, even though there wasn’t much in my stomach.
But as soon as I was finished, I felt fine again. Fine, as in, not even a little sick.I must have some weird sort of bug!
I texted Midge, curious to know if anyone else at the house was feeling ill.
No hon, we are all fine.Three dots appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again.
When was the last time you had your period?
I stared at the screen. I didn’t blink. I didn’t breathe.
And then I ran into the bathroom and threw up again.
* * *
I waited up for Bryce, but just as it was about to turn midnight, I gave up and turned off my light.
Then my phone beeped.
I lunged for it, hoping it was my husband, but instead, it was yet another link to a secure message from Gene Windsor.
Attorney Finley once again blinked at the screen. Did she have nothing better to do than play messenger for her billionaire client? Probably not…
“Mrs. Windsor, we have a situation. My client has learned that the board is considering electing Bryce Windsor as full-fledged CEO, essentially removing my client from his duties. The vote could happen as early as Monday. We will need you to get as much information from your husband as possible regarding the particulars and his plans with respect to this appointment.”
The attorney took a deep breath. “My client wants you to understand that this can’t be allowed to happen. We’ll give you further instructions as more details emerge. Please submit the secure form once you’ve had a chance to speak with your husband. Do not let more than twenty-four hours elapse before you submit it. Good evening, Mrs. Windsor.”
