Page 4 of The Wife Situation

“What’s going on?” Her brows furrow, and she’s using her full inside voice.

“Shh.” I search her face, pointing up. “There’s a man upstairs, showering,” I whisper, panicked with a racing heart.

“Shit,” she hisses, picking up her pace. She looks as horrified as I feel. “They must’ve letMr. Callowaycheck in early.”

“The asshole?” I ask when we’re finally in the hallway.

“Yes.” She pushes the cart forward, glancing over her shoulder every few seconds, like he’ll swing the door open and catch us.

When we step into the elevator, she lets out a sigh of relief. We’re tense and breathing rapidly.

“Did he see you?” I hear the stress in her voice.

“No. No, he didn’t. Thank God.” I recall his muscles and tattoos and swallow hard.

“Good. He’d have had us both fired if he’d found us in his room. He’s a recluse. Stays to himself. The memo we received last week? It was about him and his space being off-limits.”

“What do we do?” I say.

“I think we’re safe,” she says.

The elevator stops, the doors open, and no one gets in. Then, we continue down to the bottom.

“When he’s in public, does a fan club follow him everywhere? He’s awetdream.”

She chuckles. “You have no idea. He’s also New York’s most eligible bachelor.”

I reach inside my pocket for some lip balm, and my fingers brush against cool metal.

No.The world is closing in on me.

“That look on your face isscaringme.” She’s too good at reading me.

I slide the watch out and hold it in my palm. We stare at it like it’s a bomb that will explode at any second, and it’s as dangerous as one.

“When I entered the bedroom, it was sitting on the nightstand. I picked it up, thinking Helen had left it behind.” I cover my mouth, realization hitting me like a ton of bricks.

Carlee stares down at it, and I don’t think I see her blink once.

“What do I do?” I try not to hyperventilate. “Ihaveto return it.”

“Lexi, you can’t, but you can’t keep it either. You should give it to Mr. Martin and explain what happened before Callowaydoes. Let our boss get ahead of it first, put out fires instead of fighting them.”

The double doors slide open, and she pushes the cart out. We stare at one another.

“I’ve always learned that it’s better to ask for forgiveness when it comes to things like this. We know I’ll be fired on the spot.”

One of the security guards passes us in the hallway and I shove the watch back into my pocket.

“What if I ran up there quickly, rang the doorbell, and gave it back? I could explain to him what happened.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t understand. There is noexplaininganything to that man.”

“Okay, what if I snuck in, put it right back where he’d left it, then bolt out?”

“Both areterribleoptions. Go tell Mr. Martin.”

“You know I’m fired either way.” I tuck the loose strands of hair that fell from my bun behind my ears and dig deep inside for courage because I’m scared of what could happen.

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