My Boss's Husband

Chapter 9: Kind Taylor

It has been a week since the screaming contest at the hotel, and as promised, Nalo has been calling to check up on me. Wyatt had been as quiet as a mouse, and I keep picking up the phone and putting it back down. Unsure whether to send an e-mail, a text, call him and completely ignore the problem.

I have been going to the law firm and doing my articles, but it is difficult to concentrate when I think a different law firm might serve me with papers for signing a contract and not going to work.

“Miss Acres, are you okay?” Inaya asks when she walks into the interns’ office.

I nod in response.

“Your supervisor said you seemed distracted.”

“I’m so sorry.” I say apologetically.

"Follow me to the office."

“Advocate? Your husband...” She doesn’t say a word, but her raised eyebrows warn me to choose my words wisely. “Your ex husband wants me to quit my job,” I rephrase.

“He wants you to resign here?” She sits on the other side of the desk, while I sit facing her.

I nod.

“He is crazy. You are not going anywhere. I’ll call him and fix this, but you still need to work for him, unfortunately.” I notice a grimace on her face.

“I know.”

“I had to let him pay me to seem less suspicious. I wrote six months because I never thought you would succeed with so fast.”

So, he was right.

“You can’t verbally or in writing or in any way admit that you pretended to like him.”

“I know.”

"Unless you do like him. I saw that kiss, you know." She smiles, making me wonder if she is trying to figure out if I have feelings for him.

"I promise you, I don't..."

She eyes me skeptically. "Just don’t tell him. Otherwise, he might make my life hell. That’s what he wants.”

And now he is making mine hell.

After a long day of research, frustration on writing an article and Inaya’s questioning my article up the extent that I doubt if I ever went to law school, I head straight to the apartments agency. As the receptionist explains the interior, my phone rings. My hands shake when I see the caller ID.

“Hello.”

“Why haven’t you been coming to work?” Wyatt says on the other end of the line.

“I...”

“You have twenty minutes to get here.” He says calmly.

“May I please have 45 minutes? I’m a little far from your house.”

“You better be here within an hour.” He immediately hangs up.

I ask the receptionist to postpone the viewing of apartments, and I grab my purse and head out without waiting for a reply.

I arrive at his house, and I open the gate with my cell phone. The door to the house is open, so I tiptoe to the kitchen, then my heart rate is a million beats per minute. Somehow, my body remembers the place where both our kisses took place, but I’m not supposed to think like that. I’m supposed to hate him for his determination to ruin my career.

I find Taylor Victoria Secret Model, wearing Wyatt’s white shirt. It looks a little big on her, almost like a dress. Her black hair is in a funky ponytail, and she looks like she could be in a photoshoot.

“Hi,” she smiles, showing her perfect teeth.

“Madam.” I say dryly. “Are you cooking?”

“Ofcause, I love to cook. Also, I’m the girlfriend. So, it’s my job.”

“I have someone for that, Mi Amor.” Mr Henderson appears out of the nowhere. He stands behind Taylor and wraps his arms around her belly. Then, he buries his face in her neck.

“That tickles,” she giggles. “Please let go,” she continues to giggle, and during their childish tickling game, a glass of pineapple juice tips over on the counter. I quickly grab a cloth.

“No, I’ll do it.” She says apologetically in her sweet voice and takes the cloth from me.

“Zara doesn’t mind, honey. She loves her job. Do you mind Zara?” Wyatt interjects.

“Not at all, sir.” I roll my eyes.

“See? I told you babe.” He grins.

“But you know how I feel about helping out.” Taylor pouts.

“I know.” He plants a kiss on her neck, and she moans.

“Wyatt. Not in front of Zara.” She says breathlessly.

“Do you want us to do this where we are not in front of Zara?” He grins mischievously.

She blushes, and he carries her like a bride. They leave me standing in the kitchen as I begin to doubt even my existence.

That could have been me, and I don’t understand where this jealousy comes from. I’m not in love with him, or if we met under different circumstances, things would’ve been different.

I wash the cooking utensils, then the oven rings, and when I open it, the smell of lasagne fills the room.

I place the roaster on the table, and I hear footsteps of someone running to the kitchen.

“Thank you very much, I almost thought I burned it.” Taylor beams.

“Where do you work, Taylor?” I ask, hoping to at least make myself feel better about this happy doll who just loiters and shops all day. That’s why she is wearing a man’s shirt at this time, while working girls like me are at their second job.

“Right now? I’m currently a surgeon. I’m studying to become a cardiologist.” She sections the lasagne.

“I’m told that you are a law intern. That must be so cool. Do you want to specialize?”

“Uhm...” I stop in realization. I don’t even know what I want to do from here, given my mom chose my career for me.

“It’s ok, you’ll figure it out.” She smiles a comforting smile. There is no hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“Since you have cooked, would you like me to help out with anything or should I clean up and leave?”

“Are you not staying for dinner?”

“No, I have a lot of work to do. Thanx thou.”

“Let me pack something up for you in a lunchbox.”

“No, thanx. I’m fine.”

“Perhaps I could take a little?” I say quickly.

She beams and then takes out a lunchbox.

Wyatt appears on the doorway, with a smug look on his face

"I’ll email you the new contract, feel free to get a lawyer if you would like any changes."

I nod, and I walk past him.

"Your lasagne." Taylor calls out.

"Thank you," I mumble, and walk out of the house with the speed of a lighting.

I desperately wish I could call my mom to vent, but she would probably say I deserve it. So, I call Nalo, my only friend.