between her and Ken, including her irrational insecurities conjured by her pesky subconscious. Her therapist was right. She was manufacturing these ideas for the sake of drama. No wonder some people found her insufferable.
She detoured to the downtown office where Ken was working that day. In true real estate mogul fashion, the Andrews owned their own renovated building that they used for their business and to sublet to others. Yet the top few floors were all theirs, and within those currently empty halls was her husband’s downtown abode where he spent way too many hours a week dealing with grumpy investors, running numbers, and responding to concerns posted by current tenants and those looking to buy and sell other properties. All in a day’s work for those two.
“Yes, thank you.” Ken’s voice echoed through the inner chambers of the private office the moment Lana entered. She quietly closed the door and tiptoed toward the sound of her husband’s voice, intending to surprise him. “I love how willing you are, Chloe.”
Lana stopped. So did her heart.
Color? What color? She didn’t need any color in her face.
Ken wasn’t talking to the maid back home like an employer. He leaned back in his large leather chair, knee resting against the desk as he spun himself to and fro with the dumbest smile on his even dumber face. Fuck me. Fuck him! That voice… that was the voice he used when talking sweet to Lana. To his wife.
“When I think of you, Bunny, I can’t help but sound like this.” That’s what he told her years ago, when she first asked him why he spoke so softly like that. She had never heard it from any other man, and she had yet to hear him talk that way to another woman. Until now.
She was going to kill him.
“That’s fine. Go ahead and put it on my desk. I’ll put it all away later.” Laughter. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll talk to you about it later.” Ken leaned forward, bending his elbows on his desk. That stupid smirk would not leave his face. “And I’ll see you soon.”
He hung up.
Lana remained in the archway, undetected. She stared at her husband, the man who supposedly loved her above all others. The man she took a vow to always be open and trusting with. The man who was definitely cheating on her.
The therapist was wrong. So. Fucking. Wrong.
It wasn’t all in Lana’s head.
It was right here in front of her, and its name was a tale as old as time. My husband is screwing the help.
Maybe not just screwing.
Romancing.
That was one boundary they never crossed: romancing other partners. They would seduce, but they would never make it emotional. That route led to nothing but tears and terror. Like now, as Lana faced her crumbling marriage before her very eyes.
“Kenneth.”
She was going to do it. She was going to confront him.
He turned in his chair, surprised, but not shocked. The man had no shame! Here he was, getting off the phone with the real mistress while the wife walked in and caught him practically red-handed. If she didn’t kill him, his lack of shame would.
“Bunny,” he said, using that same voice he used with Chloe over the phone. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
No shit.
“Thought I’d drop by,” she replied, tight-lipped. “Was in the neighborhood.” Asshole.
Even though Lana stood in front of him like she was about to rip off his balls, Ken remained completely unfazed. How dare he be so composed? Didn’t he realize what his wife had witnessed? “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Wife. Did you drive down? We could go get dinner later. I hear there’s a nice new Italian place a few blocks from here…”
Lana was going to cut straight to the point. “I heard you on the phone with the maid.” She paused for emphasis. “Anything wrong back home?” Like your dick in the wrong woman? Lana heard that happened totally on accident sometimes.
“Oh? That?” Here it came. The lies. “Nothing of any concern. Chloe called me to inform me that a
She detoured to the downtown office where Ken was working that day. In true real estate mogul fashion, the Andrews owned their own renovated building that they used for their business and to sublet to others. Yet the top few floors were all theirs, and within those currently empty halls was her husband’s downtown abode where he spent way too many hours a week dealing with grumpy investors, running numbers, and responding to concerns posted by current tenants and those looking to buy and sell other properties. All in a day’s work for those two.
“Yes, thank you.” Ken’s voice echoed through the inner chambers of the private office the moment Lana entered. She quietly closed the door and tiptoed toward the sound of her husband’s voice, intending to surprise him. “I love how willing you are, Chloe.”
Lana stopped. So did her heart.
Color? What color? She didn’t need any color in her face.
Ken wasn’t talking to the maid back home like an employer. He leaned back in his large leather chair, knee resting against the desk as he spun himself to and fro with the dumbest smile on his even dumber face. Fuck me. Fuck him! That voice… that was the voice he used when talking sweet to Lana. To his wife.
“When I think of you, Bunny, I can’t help but sound like this.” That’s what he told her years ago, when she first asked him why he spoke so softly like that. She had never heard it from any other man, and she had yet to hear him talk that way to another woman. Until now.
She was going to kill him.
“That’s fine. Go ahead and put it on my desk. I’ll put it all away later.” Laughter. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll talk to you about it later.” Ken leaned forward, bending his elbows on his desk. That stupid smirk would not leave his face. “And I’ll see you soon.”
He hung up.
Lana remained in the archway, undetected. She stared at her husband, the man who supposedly loved her above all others. The man she took a vow to always be open and trusting with. The man who was definitely cheating on her.
The therapist was wrong. So. Fucking. Wrong.
It wasn’t all in Lana’s head.
It was right here in front of her, and its name was a tale as old as time. My husband is screwing the help.
Maybe not just screwing.
Romancing.
That was one boundary they never crossed: romancing other partners. They would seduce, but they would never make it emotional. That route led to nothing but tears and terror. Like now, as Lana faced her crumbling marriage before her very eyes.
“Kenneth.”
She was going to do it. She was going to confront him.
He turned in his chair, surprised, but not shocked. The man had no shame! Here he was, getting off the phone with the real mistress while the wife walked in and caught him practically red-handed. If she didn’t kill him, his lack of shame would.
“Bunny,” he said, using that same voice he used with Chloe over the phone. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
No shit.
“Thought I’d drop by,” she replied, tight-lipped. “Was in the neighborhood.” Asshole.
Even though Lana stood in front of him like she was about to rip off his balls, Ken remained completely unfazed. How dare he be so composed? Didn’t he realize what his wife had witnessed? “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Wife. Did you drive down? We could go get dinner later. I hear there’s a nice new Italian place a few blocks from here…”
Lana was going to cut straight to the point. “I heard you on the phone with the maid.” She paused for emphasis. “Anything wrong back home?” Like your dick in the wrong woman? Lana heard that happened totally on accident sometimes.
“Oh? That?” Here it came. The lies. “Nothing of any concern. Chloe called me to inform me that a
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