My Husband Called Me Barren, Now a Billionaire Begs for Me novel · Chapter 3 of 32

Chapter 3: Salt

Margaux fixes the lab's failing formula in two hours; Thibault brings pregnant Manon home and orders his wife to cook for her, and Margaux oversalts every dish until he finds her dressing room half empty.

The deputy director of research called her back within a minute.

"Madame Villard, one of our formulas is failing the stability test. Would you look at it?"

"Send it over," Margaux said.

Everyone at Marceau Pharma thought she was only the boss's housewife.

Thibault did not know that three of the company's best-selling treatments had come out of her notebook.

She had never stopped reading the team's results at night.

She opened the file at the kitchen table, pushing the nausea down with a glass of water.

Two hours later she found the fault.

"The binder reacts with the stabilizer at high temperature," she said. "Swap it, and rerun."

The deputy director breathed out. "Madame, the lab loses so much without you."

"I'm coming back," Margaux said. "Monday after next. As director."

He was silent for a second.

"Madame, perhaps you should speak with Monsieur Marceau first?"

"Thibault told me once that the post would stay mine as long as I wanted it," Margaux said. "So I'm not asking. I'm taking it back."

That evening her phone rang again.

*Thibault.*

She picked up with a flat "Mm."

"Margaux, someone in the research lab says you're coming back? Why so suddenly?"

"Because trying for a child hasn't worked, and I'm tired of it," she said. "The doctor says I should find something else to think about."

He laughed gently. "Darling, I'd love you the same without a child. Go back if it makes you happy. I'll tell the lab to be kind."

A girl's voice came faintly through the speaker.

"Thibault, come and dry my hair!"

The call cut off.

Margaux looked at her dark screen.

On the other end, Thibault was already ringing her back, and when she answered he sounded out of breath.

"That was Manon, her father brought her on this trip. I was talking business with him in his room and she barged in. She's a spoiled kid, don't read anything into it."

"Why would I?" Margaux said. "She's twenty. You wouldn't touch a girl that young."

"Of course not. What a thing to say."

Margaux hung up and smiled at the wall.

She sat a while with her hand on her stomach.

Then she opened the dressing room and took down the first of the designer bags he had given her.

Lise had found a buyer within an hour.

Margaux photographed the bag, the shoes and the coat, and listed them all.

By Saturday afternoon she was posting the second bag she had sold when the front door opened.

Thibault walked in with a suitcase in each hand and Manon beside him.

"Margaux," Manon said sweetly, "I'm crashing at your place again. My parents are travelling and the flat is so empty. May I stay a while?"

She had used the same line many times before.

Margaux said nothing.

Manon plucked at Thibault's sleeve.

He stepped in front of her, all worry. "Darling, I'm home. Are you all right? My assistant told me you weren't at the hospital for Lise. You went alone."

"I had a cold," Margaux said. "I didn't want you to worry."

He opened his mouth for the next question.

"Give me your jacket," she said. "I'll hang it up."

He handed it over.

It smelled of Manon's perfume.

Margaux hung it in the hall and stood there for a second, with her hand flat on the cloth.

Manon looked past her to the empty kitchen. "Where's the housekeeper? Who will make dinner?"

"I gave her the week off," Margaux said.

"You can cook?" Manon's eyes went wide. "Oh, you're wonderful. Could I taste it?"

Thibault patted Manon's hand and spoke to his wife. "Manon has never learned to cook, and she's tired. Would you make dinner for her too?"

Margaux went still.

He had brought his pregnant mistress to her home, and now he wanted her fed by the wife he had forged.

She had hesitated about taking half of his money.

She did not hesitate now.

"Of course," she said. "Give me a moment."

She cooked pork ribs and baked fish.

She salted them until the bowl rattled.

She ate only the plain vegetables.

Manon tasted a bite of the ribs and put down her fork. "Margaux, why is everything so salty?"

"Is it?" Margaux said. "I must have been heavy-handed."

"It's fine," Thibault said. "She'll improve. Eat what you can, Manon."

Margaux put her napkin down.

"I'm tired," she said. "I'm going up."

Thibault followed her into the bedroom a few minutes later.

The bathroom door was shut, so he crossed to the dressing room to change.

He stopped.

Half of the rail was bare, and the shelves where her bags had stood were empty.

He called toward the bathroom. "Margaux, where are your clothes?"

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