Chapter 47 The Other Woman Arrives
Two weeks later, it was Brandon’s forty-sixth birthday.
In my past life I had not been invited; I had been in hiding, treated like a persona non grata. The drama surrounding me made my presence inconvenient.
This time was different.
The dinner was held in a private room at an upscale restaurant. The lighting was dim, the tables dressed in linen, the atmosphere carefully curated. The guest list was small enough to be called intimate, around ten people in total.
Family. Department heads. A few selectively chosen colleagues.
Marissa had organized every detail. She coordinated the menu, approved the wine list, confirmed the seating twice. She played the role flawlessly, the devoted wife and composed hostess.
As the guests began moving toward the table, Marissa paused, her eyes narrowing at the arrangement.
“Why is there an extra place setting?” she said, irritation already sharpening her voice. “I told them ten.”
She turned toward the waiter, ready to complain, when the door opened.
A woman stepped inside.
Elena Brooks, my father’s current secretary. And his mistress.
I recognized her from the photo I had seen online.
She was well dressed, understated, elegant. No flashy jewelry. Neutral makeup.
Elena crossed the room without hesitation and walked straight up to Brandon.
“Happy birthday, Brandon,” she said. “Sorry I’m a little late.”
Her hand rested on his forearm a second too long.
Marissa noticed.
I noticed.
And I enjoyed it.
Marissa’s smile stayed in place, but it never reached her eyes. She leaned toward Brandon and murmured something under her breath.
“It was last minute,” Brandon replied. “I told the restaurant today. It’s not a big deal.”
For the rest of the evening, Marissa barely left his side. She hovered. Redirected conversations. Positioned herself physically between him and Elena whenever possible.
She even tried to seat the secretary farther down the table.
It didn’t work.
Somehow, Elena ended up directly across from Brandon.
I settled back in my chair, perfectly comfortable. My plate arrived, and I ate without hurry, without tension. Seared scallops with a citrus beurre blanc. I cut into one slowly, enjoying the contrast of textures.
Marissa barely touched her food.
Halfway through the meal, Elena handed Brandon a gift. A small, elegant box.
“I remembered you mentioning you needed a new watch,” she said.
Brandon opened it.
He removed his old watch and put the new one on, adjusting it on his wrist and holding his arm up slightly, letting everyone see.
“I love it,” he said. “Thank you.”
I took another bite of my food, chewing slowly, watching Marissa’s fingers tighten around her wineglass until her knuckles turned white. She smiled through it.
The old watch had been her gift.
And as she stared at Elena, I wondered if she thought this was the woman who had been sending those anonymous hints. The little nudges about an affair. The messages that had unsettled her for years.
Apple tried to regain control.
“Dad,” she said, “do you remember when Mom planned your forty-third birthday? At that place downtown?”
Marissa straightened, grateful for the lifeline.
“Yes,” she said quickly. “That was such a special night.”
“Oh, I remember that evening,” Elena added pleasantly, cutting in before Brandon could respond. “I was already working in the office then.”
“This scallop is excellent,” I remarked to the man beside me quietly, one of Brandon’s department heads. “Perfectly seared.”
He brightened, grateful for a safe topic. “Right? And the fennel puree is unexpected.”
I nodded, smiling lightly, while the real tension played out across the table.
Elena’s gaze shifted toward me.
“You must be Ashley. Your father speaks very highly of you.”
Brandon nodded. “I’m really glad you came.”
I returned the smile. Neutral. Uninvested.
The speech came later.
Brandon stood, glass raised. He thanked his family. His colleagues.
“I want to thank everyone who’s supported me over the years,” he said. “Especially this past one. It’s been demanding.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he added, and his eyes landed on Elena as he said it.
Marissa smiled and raised her glass with everyone else.
I hid my smirk behind a sip of champagne.
Later, as guests began to leave, Marissa drifted toward me.
“You see it too, don’t you?” she asked quietly.
“See what?” I asked.
“How familiar she is with him,” Marissa said. “It’s unprofessional.”
I looked at her properly then. At the tension in her jaw. The fear barely contained beneath the polish.
I didn’t know why she thought I would be her ally.
Because my mother had been cheated on by a secretary?
Did she forget that she had been that secretary?
The irony almost made me laugh.
I met her eyes.
“I wouldn’t know,” I said. “You understand these dynamics better than I do.”
Her lips parted, but nothing came out.
I stepped around her and walked away.
I didn’t think about her again.
The next evening, I went down to the hotel gym to walk off the extra calories. The space was nearly empty. Late hour. I set the treadmill to a slow incline and let my body move.
I had been walking for maybe twenty minutes when my phone rang.
Nick.
Why was he calling? It was late.
My first thought was Payton. A flash of another life, another call, bad news arriving out of nowhere. I slowed the treadmill, pulse thudding in my ears.
I hesitated, then answered.
The moment the call connected, I heard rapid breathing, followed by a woman’s ecstatic moans.
“Nick, harder… you’re amazing… I’m coming…Aaaahhhh “
My stomach lurched violently.
I barely managed to hit the emergency stop before bile surged up my throat. I clamped a hand over my mouth and stumbled off the treadmill, gagging, just making it to the trash can by the wall.
My phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a sharp crack.