Chapter 5: A Board Lunch

Anders took the story of Blair's phone at breakfast.

"Your message came up on her screen," I said. "'Good morning, did you sleep.' At seven-oh-three."

"I sent that at seven-oh-two," he said.

"Then you know where it went."

"I know it went to my wife. Your stepsister may borrow her phone."

"Borrow it."

"Sisters do."

"I'd say it was a good excuse, if it didn't take you two seconds to think of it."

He put down his coffee.

Greta, at the end of the table, buttered a slice of rye with great concentration and said nothing.

"You'll come to my board lunch," Anders said at last.

I stared at him.

"Today. Noon. The Minneapolis Club."

"Why?"

"Because my grandmother has informed me," he said, "that a wife is seen."

"I informed him at six this morning," Greta said, "through his bedroom door."

The Minneapolis Club has dark wood and white tablecloths and a private dining room that smells like old money and furniture polish.

There were eight board members at the long table, all of them older than Anders and all of them watching me come in beside him.

I'd borrowed a navy dress from Greta's closet.

It was ten years out of style and fit like it had been sewn on me by an optimist.

I had left the boots on.

"Gentlemen, ladies," Anders said. "My wife."

It was the first time he had said it aloud.

He said it in the flat voice of a man reading a memo.

The word went down the table.

The vice chairman put down his fork.

He was sixty, with a soft pink face and a signet ring, and he looked at me.

Keep reading free with an account. Start My Double Proxy Marriage to a Billionaire from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.