The Substitute Wife

Chapter 1

Jack

“You’ve got this, Sophie,” I whispered as I knelt on the gleaming wood floor in front of my sweet first-grade daughter. Her determined blue eyes locked onto mine, brimming with confidence. She nodded.

“Atta girl. I’ll be right next door with the Dean.” I stood and nodded toward the teacher waiting to accompany Sophie.

The sharp click of heels echoed down the hall.

“Ah, Dr. Greene, so nice to see you this morning.” Dr. Rodriguez, the dean, greeted me with a firm handshake. “We’re so pleased to have Sophie visit today. While she’s settling into the evaluations, I’d love to use this time to discuss the University School’s standards and expectations. We have a study room just over here.”

“Happy to, Dr. Rodriguez,” I replied, keeping my tone even—cool, collected, but not aloof. This was the best school in the area, a short commute from our new home, and the right start for Sophie was important.

She led me into what she had called a study room, though it was closer to a small library. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined the walls, a stained-glass chandelier casting colorful patterns across the wooden floors, most of which were covered by an ornate Persian rug. A few long wooden study tables sat unoccupied, but the Dean gestured toward a sitting area with leather club chairs.

I lowered myself into the chair across from her.

“Dr. Greene, I’d love to hear more about what brought you to Chicago.”

I met her gaze. “We moved for my job. I’ve accepted a position in neurosurgery at Northwestern Memorial.” I knew she already had this information from our file, but if rehashing it helped Sophie’s chances, I’d say whatever she needed to hear. “University School has a reputation for excellent academics, and since it’s in our neighborhood, it seemed like a natural fit.”

“And has Sophie attended a similar school before?”

“Sure. I mean, she’s only seven, but back in New York, she went to Winston Prep for kindergarten. Before that, she did age-appropriate home learning with our French au pair.”

Dr. Rodriguez nodded, then launched into a polished explanation of University School’s academic culture and high expectations for both students and their families. Then, she shifted. A pause. A careful glance in my direction.

“I understand this question may be forward, Dr. Greene, but what is the former Mrs. Greene’s involvement in co-parenting?”

I blinked.

She continued, smoothing her skirt. “Of course, we welcome all family structures here, but we also emphasize stable, supportive home environments. We want to ensure that our students thrive without... outside distractions.”

Was this woman asking if my ex was crazy? Because, I mean—she was. And she was very much not in the picture.

I exhaled through my nose. “Uh, well, we don’t see Emily much.”

The Dean’s eyes flicked toward my fingers as they tapped against the leather armrest. I stilled them.

She cleared her throat. “We encourage positive co-parenting, Dr. Greene. In fact, it might be... difficult for Sophie to navigate school life without an additional parental presence.”

This was bullshit. I leaned forward slightly. “Are you saying a child needs both a mother and father involved in school life to be accepted here?” My voice was steady, but my patience was fraying.

“Oh, not necessarily,” she said smoothly. “Perhaps two mothers, two fathers, a step-parent, or even a highly involved grandparent or two. What we’re looking for are families who actively participate. Many of our parents have demanding careers, but studies show children excel when they have a strong support system engaged in their school environment.”

I nodded once, keeping my expression neutral.

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem, Dean Rodriguez.”

–

“That lady said what?!” Max sputtered, setting down his beer bottle. Max, my best friend, and really my only friend in Chicago, had come by after Sophie went to sleep. “Are you sure you want her to go to this school?”

“Besides that one interaction, it really is an awesome school. We had a good vibe, Soph did excellent on her entrance evaluations. It is a quick walk.” My eyes roamed the kitchen, still covered in half-unpacked boxes.

“How are you going to meet these “requirements”? Emily is MIA and once you officially start at the hospital, I don’t know how easy it’s going to be for you to get away.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I do have some scheduling flexibility, but not enough to run school interference every time. It’ll work out. I’ve got nanny interviews lined up. Maybe I’ll just add a few more school responsibilities to the job description.”

Our conversation turned to other things and Max went home a few beers later. Which left me with my thoughts as I began to unpack some of the kitchen boxes. I didn’t miss Emily at all. It was better for all of us that she was gone. But I did miss having a partner to navigate these situations. And, as much as I hated to admit it, the Dean had hit on a sore spot. I did worry that Sophie needed more than just me. That she really needed a mom. That I wasn’t enough for her.

Emma

My cheeks burned as I walked down the hallway, a box of my belongings balanced in my arms. I’d never been fired before. Or rather, “let go.” Carol had assured me it wasn’t personal—they were just moving in a different direction.

Didn’t feel that way.

I hadn’t been at Carol Spade Interiors long, but it had been my dream job. And now? Just a few short months on an already short resume.

Stepping onto the busy street, I exhaled sharply. I really, really did not want to go back to working for my dad’s construction company. Or worse—move back home. My lease was up at the end of the month. My roommate was moving in with her boyfriend. And now, with no job, the real possibility of returning home was staring me in the face.

I gave my head a quick shake, as if I could physically jostle the thought loose. No. I would not move back home at thirty-five. That would be even more humiliating than getting fired.

I checked my watch. Close enough to lunchtime that I could go bother my best friend, Natasha. She worked as a receptionist at the hospital a few blocks away. Luckily, it was a beautiful September day—one of those crisp, golden afternoons that made the city feel alive. Three blocks in heels wasn’t ideal, but I could manage.

The moment I stepped out of the elevator, Natasha’s eyes locked onto the box in my hands. Her surprise melted into concern.

“Emma!”

“I got fired. Lunch?”

“Oh, Emma.” She rushed around the desk and wrapped me in a tight hug.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’m doing my best not to cry here.”

“Of course, of course. Here, let me take this.” She grabbed the box before I could protest. “You go sit—I’ll wrap up a few things.”

As she hurried back behind the reception desk, I glanced around the waiting room. Empty. Thank God. I slumped in a chair near the fish tank, watching the water bubble up as colorful fish darted between the fake coral.

“Bye, Natasha!” A sweet voice rang out. Slowly, I shifted my focus from the fish tank to the waiting room. A little girl was waving to Natasha, her hand clasped in that of an impossibly attractive man in a white medical coat.

“See ya tomorrow, Sophie! I’ll be sure to print out some more coloring pages for you,” Natasha called cheerfully.

“Dr. Greene, I’ll be heading out to lunch with my friend shortly. You’ve got a 1 p.m. consultation, but I’ll be back before they arrive.”

“Great, thanks Natasha.” Dr. Greene replied, glancing in my direction. His eyes met mine for a moment, and he froze—just for a second—before quickly recovering. I couldn’t quite place the expression that flashed across his face before he turned away and stepped into the waiting elevator with the little girl.

“That’s your boss?”

“Yeah, and his daughter.” Natasha grabbed her bag and clicked off her computer as she spoke. “He’s super sweet. Just started, actually. That’s why she’s with him. No nanny yet, and school’s out. I don’t think there’s a Mrs. Greene. I think they just moved from New York?”

She kept talking as she straightened up. “Anyway, we’ll leave your box here. Let’s go. I’m starving!”