Chapter 1

On my first morning as CEO, I hear that my husband bought his office mistress a sports car.

Before I can ask her name, another woman storms into the lobby looking for her.

She says she's his wife.

I'm still holding the coffee my driver handed me outside.

I'm early. The group team is due in half an hour to introduce me to the staff.

Across the lobby, three employees stand beside the reception desk, admiring the silver convertible parked beyond the glass.

"He spent the whole holiday with her," one of them says. "Christmas, New Year's. His wife must be a saint."

"Forget the vacation. Look at the car."

"Some of us got a holiday bonus. His office wife got a Porsche."

They laugh.

I stop walking.

Evan told me the trip was business.

Ten days of meetings. Bad connections. Calls cut short because someone was waiting for him.

On Christmas morning, he sent a picture of a hotel breakfast and told me he wished he were home.

"Evan Cole?" I ask.

The woman nearest me turns.

"What?"

"You're talking about Evan Cole?"

Nobody answers.

"He's my husband."

The receptionist's hand stops over her keyboard.

Then the front doors fly open.

"Where is she?"

A woman in a cream coat strides toward the desk.

Her heels strike the floor hard enough to turn heads.

"Where's the woman sleeping with my husband?"

The receptionist stands.

"Mrs. Cole—"

Mrs. Cole.

I set my coffee down.

The woman points at her.

"Don't give me that. He spent Christmas with someone from this office. I know he did."

"Please keep your voice down."

"Why? So you can warn her?"

She leans across the desk.

"Was it you?"

The receptionist shakes her head.

"No. Rachel, listen—"

"Then tell me who."

The receptionist looks straight at me.

"She just said Evan was her husband."

Rachel turns.

Her eyes move from my face to my coat, then to the bag over my shoulder.

"Your husband?"

"Evan Cole is my husband."

She laughs once.

Then she raises her hand.

I catch her wrist before she can hit me.

"Don't."

I push her hand away.

I look from her to the employees beside the desk.

"One woman here. Another outside the office."

"What?"

"Well," I say, "at least I don't have to go looking for you."

Her face hardens.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

I turn to the group.

"Who owns the car?"

The woman who mentioned the holiday bonus steps back.

"I don't know."

"You were just talking about her."

"I didn't say a name."

A man beside her folds his arms.

"We've never seen you before."

"That wasn't my question."

"You walk in here claiming to be Mr. Cole's wife. What are we supposed to think?"

Rachel reaches into her bag.

"Let me clear that up."

She takes out a document in a plastic sleeve and slaps it onto the reception counter.

A marriage certificate.

Her name is Rachel Mercer.

His is Evan Cole.

I look at the date.

Five years ago.

Evan and I have been married for six.

"I've been his wife for five years," she says. "Ask anyone here."

The receptionist nods.

"Mrs. Cole comes in all the time."

I look at her name badge.

Paige Dawson.

Reception Supervisor.

"Lunches," Paige adds. "Holidays. Company events. We all know who she is."

Rachel folds her arms.

"You thought because he spent a few nights with you, you could come here and take over?"

I look down at the certificate again.

I remember our wedding.

My father walking me down the aisle.

Evan holding my hands so tightly I whispered that he was hurting me.

He said he was afraid he might wake up.

Apparently, he found time to dream again.

"Call him," I say.

Rachel smiles.

"So he can come rescue you?"

"So he can explain this."

"I don't need my husband's permission to deal with a woman chasing him."

"I'm not chasing him."

"No? Then why are you here?"

Before I can answer, she turns to Paige.

"Take her picture."

Paige already has her phone in her hand.

"Rachel—"

"Put it at the desk. Send it to security. She doesn't come through those doors again."

Paige points the camera at me.

"Put that down."

"Why? You weren't embarrassed to announce it a minute ago."

Another employee lifts his phone.

Then another.

Rachel watches them.

"Make sure everyone knows what she looks like."

"I haven't given you permission to photograph me."

"You should have thought about that before you slept with someone else's husband."

A man near the elevators laughs.

"She's got nerve. I thought she was somebody important when she walked in."

"Must be his new hire," someone mutters.

Paige keeps filming.

"Just apologize to Mrs. Cole and leave. You're making this worse."

I look at her.

She's very calm for someone whose lobby has just turned into a public confrontation.

Very quick to help.

Rachel steps into my line of sight.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you."

I take out my phone.

She reaches for it.

I move it out of range.

"Keep your hands off my phone."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a request you shouldn't need twice."

The lobby doors open. Two more employees come in, slow down, and stop.

Rachel turns slightly so they can see her certificate.

"This woman thinks she's my husband's wife."

I look past her, through the glass.

At the silver car.

The employees were happy to discuss its owner until I asked who she was.

Now none of them will look at it.

I point.

"You came here looking for the woman he spent Christmas with?"

Rachel follows my hand.

"Start with whoever drives that."