She Cheered for His Office Crush, Then Left Her Husband Behind novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: Kiss, Kiss, Kiss
Vivian cheers on her husband's tequila shot with Ivy, covers for him on a street corner with a birthday-gift lie, and gets an HR email that makes her give him until Friday.
At the company party, forty people chanted for my husband to kiss another woman, and I chanted the loudest.
"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"
Nobody in that room knew he was my husband.
Tristan, our director, stood at the end of the steakhouse bar holding a shot of tequila.
Ivy held the other side of the glass and laughed with her whole face.
She had just closed our biggest account, so the analyst who ran the office group chat declared that the director owed her a toast.
I stood on a chair and pumped my fist.
"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"
Behind me, somebody said Mr. Hayes looked like he was about to fire the whole room.
"He always looks like that," I said, and climbed down.
I had work to do.
The bar was open and free, and every senior executive in the company was standing near it with a glass in his hand.
I had counted. Dennis Tidwell, the senior vice president, was on his second bourbon and had not been asked about his golf handicap by a single person.
Before the next round of promotions, I was going to be the person who asked.
I spent an hour on that handicap.
I learned about his short game, his bad knee and his wife's opinion of both.
It was the most productive hour I'd had all month, and nobody had to pay me overtime for it.
At twelve-forty I walked out to find a quiet corner to cancel my Uber and heard footsteps behind me.
"Vivian."
Tristan had followed me to the street corner, jaw set.
His dark eyes looked hurt, which I had never seen before and was too tired to ask about.
"Why didn't you get jealous back there?" he said.
I yawned so hard my eyes watered.
"Tristan, can you stop keeping me from my bed? I've worked overtime for a month and I have a seven a.m. meeting."
He looked at the dark circles under my eyes.
His voice dropped. "I'll drive you home."
I nodded at once.
The restaurant was more than twenty miles from our apartment.
The Uber I'd already booked cost a hundred and twelve dollars, which meant I would be paying my employer for the privilege of working there.
I pulled out my phone to cancel it.
"Tristan? Vivian? What are you two doing?"
I knew that voice. Ivy.
She stood three steps away in her coat and heels with her purse held in both hands.
Every head on the sidewalk turned our way.
It was the middle of the night and we had both been drinking.
A beautiful employee and her male boss were standing alone on a corner, talking in low voices.
Anyone who saw us would jump to the same conclusion by breakfast.
For months the group chat had said my good accounts came from "someone upstairs."
Promotions were in three weeks. I would not hand my competitors a photo.
I glared at Tristan, turned around and smiled the smile I use on clients.
"Ivy!" I said, and walked right up to her with my arms open. "Your birthday is coming up, isn't it?"
"Next week," Ivy said. "Why?"
"Mr. Hayes wants to get you a gift. He asked me to help him pick something out, so now you've ruined the surprise."
Tristan did not move.
"Though I think the birthday girl gets the final say," I said, and turned. "Don't you, Mr. Hayes?"
His lips pressed into a line and his eyes went cold.
I was afraid the tequila would answer for him, so I widened my eyes at him until he blinked.
He gave one slow, furious nod.
"Yes," he said. "A gift."
"You didn't have to!" Ivy said, delighted, and put a hand on his arm.
My Uber pulled up to the curb.
I put my hand on Ivy's back and gave her a gentle push in his direction.
"I'll leave you two to it!" I said, and winked, and got into the car.
Only when it pulled away did I breathe out.
The whole ride home, the meter ran at a hundred and twelve dollars, and I counted it as a business expense I would never be reimbursed for.
At the apartment I dropped my keys in the bowl and opened the fridge for milk.
The door was covered in yellow Post-its in my handwriting. Rent. Call Dad. Dentist. Oat milk, not the other one.
I hadn't read them in months. I only checked the milk.
I got into bed and lay on my side of it, where the sheets were cold, and pretended to be asleep when Tristan came in at ten to two.
He stood in the doorway for a long time.
Then he set a glass of water on my nightstand and lay down on his side with a full arm's length of mattress between us.
At six a.m. my phone buzzed.
The subject line said: MANDATORY: Relationships Disclosure Declaration, due next Friday.
I read it twice with one eye open.
Every employee had to sign that they had no relationship with anyone in their reporting line.
Failing to disclose voided your promotion and was grounds for termination.
My reporting line was asleep next to me, and he was my husband.
I looked at the water glass.
Then I decided. I would give him until Friday to act like a husband.
If he couldn't, I would file for divorce.
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