Page 18 of The Marriage Rival


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To date, it was the scariest move I had made

in my life. Growing up in Virginia meant I was surrounded by beautiful green nature. There was room to run around and take impromptu bike rides down to the lake. I loved to read, spending countless hours underneath the gorgeous Eastern Redbud tree dad grew in our backyard, falling in love with characters and stories who transported me to another life.

It all seemed so simple back in the day, until, of course, I became a teenager and realized there was more to the small town I had grown up in.

Being hours away from my parents brought a sense of relief. They loved me, I never questioned that, but their opinions of what I should be doing with my life became a broken record.

I attended the University of Richmond, only a few hours away from home. Occasionally, I found myself homesick, but for most of the part, I enjoyed the freedom and welcomed adulthood.

Manhattan was always a pipe dream. I’d fantasized about visiting as a child, read countless stories about the concrete jungle and the endless opportunities. I saved every penny working various jobs at night and on weekends, so the second I graduated, my bags were packed ready to move to the Big Apple.

The moment my feet hit the pavement, I felt like I was transported to a different world. It was incredibly dirty, and I wasn’t used to seeing so many homeless people on every street corner. The constant sounds of sirens, tooting horns, and the subway beneath the steaming grates was a rude awakening.

But as many people have said, it’s the one place which never leaves you.

I attended Broadway musicals and spent hours wandering the museums. The nightlife was something else—bar hopping with girlfriends, dancing the nights away only to wake up with the biggest hangover the next day. I dated many men but none who warranted long-term relationships. It was the best way to spend my twenties—carefree without a worry in the world.

I was fortunate enough to land a few jobs to tie me over, but my luck came when David Sadler offered me a job at Lantern Publishing. It was the break in my career I needed. I worked hard, endless hours to prove my worth. During that time, I met my then fiancé, Jason Hart. Life, at the time, seemed almost perfect. A little too perfect which is never a good thing.

Fast forward years later, I married Haden—the co-worker from hell. A man I never envisioned settling down with. For starters, the guy is incredibly sexy. Way above the men I had normally dated. Women were constantly throwing themselves at him. I blame the black-rimmed reading glasses and chiseled jaw. He is like that perfect book boyfriend authors often explained to me their readers fantasized over.

And his body, Haden is ridiculously cut up. Almost every day I admire his toned physique, run my hands along his abs and stare longingly at the ‘V’ shape just about his waistline.

The one-night stand between us turned into the biggest blessing of our lives. Although I loathed Haden and never showed interest in him prior to our drunken night at the club, he often told me his eyes had been on me long before that moment. It’s rather sweet and unlike him to profess his feelings but one of the many reasons why I love him.

Trying to co-work while in a relationship comes with many challenges. Prior to David stepping down as the publisher, he offered me the role of Editor-in-Chief.

With my experience and dedication to the company, he strongly believed I was the right person for the job. Timing was perfect since the person previously filling the role had moved back to London.

But like with any win in life, it came with a spray of negativity. People who I considered friends in the same industry believed I only landed the job due to my relationship with Haden. It was challenging to step into a role I worked hard for only to hear the office gossip circulating about my willingness to sleep with whomever to further my career.

I didn’t take those rumors lightly. Offended people thought my work ethic and skill set weren’t strong enough to land me that role. Often, I would vent to Haden, but he simply reminded me that no matter what would have happened between us, I was always the person marked for that role. David’s mentoring over the years was for that very reason.

I’d grown over the past few years. I learned not to get caught up in the irrelevant details and focus on my set goals. I’ve always been determined, and even motherhood won’t stop me from achieving my career objectives. I just need to figure out how to balance my time, so nobody suffers.

Easier said than done.

Weeks have passed since Haden received the call from Marshall, and he didn’t back off like Haden anticipated. Marshall is a known risk-taker. I, on the other hand, thrive on new projects. As soon as we were given budgets, I threw myself straight into a project timeline which prompted the meeting today.

All eyes are on me in the boardroom as I stand beside the projector screen and finish explaining our targets. Clint is distracted by my outfit, slowly eyeing me from head to toe with a judgmental expression. I find myself looking down, making sure I haven’t spilled anything on my olive-colored tunic style dress I bought online.

“Any questions?”

Clint raises his hand. Knowing him very well, this could easily go two ways.

“Are we considering increasing headcount?” He looks at his peers, many appearing overwhelmed and flustered by our tight deadline. “I’m only speaking for myself, my head’s barely above water. I’m drowning, swallowing the endless work coming in. My chest is tight, heavy weight on my shoulders—”

I cut him off as the team snickers.

“I get it, cue the dramatic play-by-play. Look, we’ve acquired Indie Press, and Haden is working closely with their team. We’d like to avoid losing talented staff and will do our best to retain employees.”

Our meeting carries on for another hour until our receptionist knocks on the door advising me my next meeting has arrived.

“Okay, any questions, you know where to find me.”

Everyone leaves the room except Clint. His lingering presence is annoying, yet I prepare myself for the sea of questions.

“So, what are we dealing with? Are you talking sexy Clark Kent employees or boring, ‘I wouldn’t screw you with a bag over your head’ employees?”

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