My Husband Played Stranger, So I Took Off the Ring novel · Chapter 22 of 24

Chapter 22: Sundays Are Ours

The man from Columbus came to the diner on Monday at four o'clock, and he ordered pie.

He sat in the corner booth in his pale suit with a leather folder and a very serious fork.

Nate had come up from the dish pit with his sleeves wet to the elbow, and he slid into the seat across from him.

I sat down beside Nate, because he'd asked me to, and because I wanted to see it.

"I'll be quick," the man said. "I run a financial firm, and I've watched your father cheat my friends for fifteen years."

"I'm sorry," Nate said.

"Don't be. I'm grateful. It's the first time I ever got to see the books." He opened the folder. "I've read your work from the Group. You caught two accounts your father's own people missed."

"I caught them in a tie."

"I'd like you to catch them in a better one."

He pushed a page across the table.

I read it upside down.

It said Vice President, with a salary that made me put my coffee down.

It was six times what the diner paid a dishwasher in a year, and then some.

"It's a five-year term," the man said. "Columbus, six days a week. Sunday is a working day, and so is half of Saturday. We have a lot of ground to make up."

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