Page 2 of Married to Lies

1. Work with a personal trainer and nutritionist.

Aaric always wore his emotions on his sleeve. He looked visibly relieved as he said, “That’s a good one. Bryce is the only one who doesn’t have a trainer.”

Bryce indignantly replied, “Because I grew up working on a farm and my older brother was a professional athlete. I know how to stay fit.”

Simon ignored them both, writing out his next point.

2. Take quarterly leadership retreats. 3+ Days

“Quarterly?” Cruz muttered. “I’ll be home less than I already am.”

The marker made soft pounding sounds as Simon continued writing. His body hid the words though, so we all had to wait until he finished.

Jude whispered something to Bryce I couldn’t hear, but it made him smirk.

I knew better than to get my hopes up before I heard it all. Simon was smart, yes, but there was a reason his children were the way they were.

3. Take two weeks of vacation a year.

Jude frowned deeply. “Two weeks? That’s not practical.”

It wasn’t if you refused to acknowledge the importance of rest, I thought, but I kept it to myself.

All of these seemed fair. I was about to agree to his conditions, but Simon kept writing.

4. You must get married within the year and sign a prenuptial agreement guaranteeing your wife 50% of your shares upon divorce.

We tried to get out of it. Begged, cajoled, bargained until we were each breathless and frustrated. Nothing would shift Simon’s stance. And when Simon’s children somehow found out about the deal a short while later, they were like bloodhounds chasing a scent. They wanted those shares, a guaranteed revenue stream, regardless of the fact that they’d surely run it into the ground.

That’s why, two months after this meeting, Bryce married Jada in a small country wedding.

That’s why Simon had been poisoned at their wedding.

And that’s why I had to promise someone forever in time to save the company.

1 Rei

One month ago

I pushed up off the tile floor, rolling mushy bits of sticker between my fingers before tossing them in the trash. Rubbing my hands over my jumpsuit got most of the sticky residue off me.

Dozens of people in suits walked past during the shift change, but none of them looked at me, acknowledged me. It was like my light-blue jumpsuit and cleaning cart made me invisible. Not that I minded. I liked to fly under the radar.

There were only two people at MyHome who seemed to notice my presence.

My best friend, Jada, who worked in the daycare.

And the other?... I didn’t know his name.

I left my cart where it sat in the lobby and walked to the wall of sticky notes, the one where people shared their thoughts and ideas in honor of Bryce Madigan dreaming up the idea for MyHome and saving it on a sticky note.

I scanned the wall, reading all sorts of messages. Some were drawings, little more than scribbles. Others featured inspirational quotes. And then, where the sticky notes became sparse by the door to the janitorial supply room, I saw a note in the same handwriting as usual.

You look beautiful today, Rei.

My heart picked up its pace as I looked around, like I could see the person who left it. No one was nearby. No one was looking my way.

And yet, the same person had been leaving me notes for the last several weeks. Sometimes, they were encouraging, telling me I was doing a good job with the lobby. Other times, the notes were more flirtatious. Never did the notes include a name or number, even though I desperately wanted this person to show their face.