Page 127 of The Work Wife

“We’ll talk later, okay? I have to get going. I’m heading into another meeting. You wouldn’t even believe what I’m dealing with.”

“Sure. Later.” She disconnected the call with trembling fingers.

“It’s for the best.” His mother repeated Wes’s words.

Jamie had nearly forgotten where she was or who she was with.

“We both thought it would be better this way than if your employer found out what you’d actually done.” She winced. “I’m sure they wouldn’t be pleased to hear you lied.”

This made sense, except she hadn’t lied. Maybe it started out as a lie, but now she thought it had been real.

The waitress brought their food, and just the sight of it made Jamie want to throw up.

Mrs. Archer didn’t miss a beat. She speared a forkful of salad and pointed at the papers. “He’s left you the apartment here in Boston. You won’t have to worry about rent or moving.”

He owned the building. What was one apartment if it kept his ex-wife quiet?

Somehow Jamie made it through lunch and drove them back to the office, where Mrs. Archer got into her rental. Jamie was surprised she’d driven herself. She half expected the woman to be assisted into a stretch limo by a man in a floppy hat with a brim.

Jamie was losing it.

Rather than make a big, ugly scene at work she drove home and texted Cindy to tell her she wasn’t feeling well.

The apartment had always felt like her home, despite the fact she’d only lived there for a short time. Her things were mixed with Weston’s things. It was theirs.

Except after she signed the papers, it would only be hers.

She took her time, reading through each word, scouring the document for some clue that it was a joke or a misunderstanding. It was pretty straightforward and it was more than generous, considering their marriage had been nothing more than a bad idea.

At a little after seven, she lined up a glass and the whiskey. With a deep breath she signed her name and drank down the shot.

Three shots later the tears started, and she curled into a ball, wishing she’d never walked into Weston Archer’s life.

At some point Jamie must have fallen asleep. It was full dark when she woke. She was still on the sofa, and the light was on in the kitchen, shining in her face. Or would have been in her face if there hadn’t been a huge monster standing over her.

Chapter 24

With Shadow in the carrier strapped over her shoulder, Jamie gave her perfunctory two knocks before opening the front door at her father’s house. After the cat attempted to suffocate her last night, he’d been rather cozy. She didn’t want to leave him behind. She knew firsthand how much that sucked.

With her story ready, she was focused on keeping her face unreadable. It was always her face that messed things up.

She could craft the most elaborate fabrications, but if her face gave her away, she was screwed.

Unfortunately, two knocks was not enough of a warning. She found her father on the sofa with Mrs. Knox, engaging in some heavy kissing—with tongue.

“Oh! Sorry!” She spun around, wiping her eyes as if she could brush the image away.

“Damn it. I thought you just left,” her father said, sounding not too welcoming. Not that she could blame him. She’d just been there two days ago. Rob had been fine when she’d asked to work from home. She hadn’t been specific on which home.

She would have given her father more notice, but she hadn’t had her story ready yet.

Her story.

“My husband is rich and he told me to come spend more time with you.” Hell, she forgot to wait for him to ask. The older couple was still righting themselves for company. “Wait a minute. You’re Mrs. Knox.”

“Widow,” the woman said.

“Oh. Sorry. I wasn’t judging.”