He Stole My Bill, So I Divorced Him and Outranked His Father novel · Chapter 4 of 24

Chapter 4: Ms. Wehmeyer

On Monday at 7:50 a courier was waiting by the Capitol's south elevator.

He held an envelope addressed in my husband's mother's handwriting.

"Greta Spurlock," the young man said.

"Wehmeyer," I said, and took it.

Inside was a cashier's check for fifty thousand dollars.

Under it was a two-page form headed Confidentiality and Release, with a yellow tab at the line where I was supposed to sign.

A note was clipped to the top in blue ink.

For your trouble, dear. Do be sensible.

The elevator door opened, and Emilio Cavazos stepped out with his gray jacket buttoned and a binder under his arm.

"Good morning, Ms. Wehmeyer," he said, in the voice he would use on a stranger.

"Good morning, Mr. Cavazos."

We rode up together with two staffers and a woman carrying a cake box.

Between the first floor and the second, I tore the check in half.

Then in quarters.

Then I tore the form, slowly, so everyone in the car could hear it.

I put every piece in the cake box of the woman beside me.

"For the trash," I said. "Thank you."

She stared at me and then nodded and held the box with both hands.

Emilio looked at the floor numbers.

The corner of his mouth moved once, and that was all.

The Governor read my draft at her desk with a red pencil behind her ear.

She read it twice, and the second time she moved her lips.

When she finished she turned back to the cover page and took the pencil from behind her ear.

Under the bill's title she wrote, in ink: Prepared by Greta Wehmeyer.

"There," she said. "Now they'll have to say your name when they kill it."

"They won't kill it," I said.

"Peaches, I like you more every hour."

She sent me out to the staff room with a long list and a lamp, and I worked until the building emptied.

At eight that night I was alone on the second floor with a clean draft on my screen.

The door to the chief of staff's office stood open an inch. Light lay across the carpet.

I knocked and went in.

Emilio was at his desk with his jacket off, signing a stack of folders.

He looked up. He did not look surprised.

"The draft is done," I said. "It's on your server."

"I saw it come in," he said.

"Is the door locked?" I asked.

"No," he said.

I crossed the carpet and shut it behind me, and turned the bolt myself.

"Your rule, Mr. Cavazos," I said. "Not where the Governor's name is on the door."

"I'm aware."

"The Governor's name is on the door."

"I read it this morning," he said. "Twice."

He stood.

He came around the desk slowly and stopped with a foot of space between us.

"Take your jacket off," I said.

"I took it off an hour ago."

"Then take your tie off."

He took off his tie.

He draped it over the back of his chair, and I watched his hands do it, and every muscle in my stomach pulled tight.

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