As I stepped out of my boss's office, I ran into Clementine Chavez at the door.
She was the kind of girl you noticed at a glance.
Very pretty, with a confidence that shone in her eyes, the sort bred into someone raised in comfort her whole life.
"Hi, I'm Clementine Chavez."
I looked down at her outstretched hand, and for a moment my mind went somewhere else.
This company was a branch office of the Farley Group.
Yet in the eight years I'd worked here, Dennis had never let a single person know what I was to him.
I never cared for the spotlight, and I certainly never wanted anyone saying my hard work was really just Dennis's doing.
But for her, on the very day she started, he all but announced it to the world.
She, Clementine Chavez, was under his protection.
Think twice about who stood behind her before you crossed her.
I almost laughed. Whether he loved you or not, it turned out, had been written into all those years the whole time.
Out of pure spite I stepped past her and headed for the exit.
"I know who you are." Her cool voice came from behind me.
I stopped short, but I didn't dare turn around.
I didn't have to guess where Clementine had gotten her information.
Back then, Dennis and I had dated in earnest, and yet here I was, treated like a mistress who couldn't stand the light, hunted down by the proper wife.
I didn't linger. I walked away fast.
At this hour, Dennis was usually at the gym.
He liked to work out, mostly to keep his head clear.
He'd told me once that exercise kept him sharp.
When I got there, I was stopped at the door.
Usually his assistant came out to bring me in.
I waited a while, and sure enough, Dennis's assistant appeared in the distance.
I was about to go to him when my eyes snagged on someone behind him.
Somehow, Clementine had come too.
She'd changed clothes, the office suit gone, now in a white athleisure set, her long hair loosely pinned up, looking young and full of energy.
I wanted to flee, but my feet stayed nailed to the spot.
"Miss Winfield, we meet again."
