Longing for the Unreachable

"I'm working late. I'll be at the office the next couple of nights. You know how slammed I am," I said.

Bernard soured in an instant. "Why didn't you tell me sooner, honey?"

I almost laughed. If I'd given him a heads-up, he'd have gone to the villa without missing a beat.

I put on my best innocent voice and used his favorite line. "It was a last-minute assignment."

He gave a grumpy little huff. "Then, maybe hear me out for once. Quit and come home. I'll take care of you. I hate seeing you grind yourself down."

Maybe all he ever wanted was a trophy wife he could keep under his thumb.

When I didn't answer, Bernard tried again. "Okay, then at least make time tomorrow night?"

"For what? Do you need something?"

"Did you forget? It's Wyatt's birthday. He invited us weeks ago!"

"Sorry, I'm swamped," I said lightly. "Tell him I'm sorry I can't make it."

"Fine," he replied, though I couldn't tell if he was upset. "Take care of yourself. When you're done, text me. I'll pick you up."

"Got it. I've got to get back to it."

That night, the "maid" posted sultry selfies in a sheer lace slip. The bed behind her was mine. They were in my bedroom.

My stomach flipped, but I kept sorting the evidence I'd been collecting.

The following evening, she updated her feed with a big group shot at a bar. Bernard had his arm wrapped around her, grinning like he'd won the lottery.

So, he'd taken her to Wyatt's party instead.

A minute later, she posted another filtered selfie with a caption. "He says I'm much prettier than his old wife at home."

I gave a cold laugh. If she wanted an audience, I wouldn't disappoint her.

I did my makeup, grabbed my keys, and headed to the party.

As I reached the private booth, a woman barreled out and clipped my shoulder. She slipped and nearly fell. "Watch it! Are you blind?" she snapped, baring her teeth like I'd ruined her night.

I got a good look at her face. What a coincidence! She was Bernard's little maid.

She jutted her chin at me. "Apologize now, or my boyfriend will make you regret it!"

So, she didn't recognize me. Guess Bernard never showed her my picture.

No wonder. If she'd ever seen me, she wouldn't have kept posting that I couldn't compare to her.

I let out a soft laugh and raised an eyebrow. "You bumped into me, and now you want me to apologize? Go ahead, call your boyfriend. Let's see what he does."

She stomped her heel. "Just you wait!"

She spun on her toes and stormed back into the booth.

I heard her voice turn pitiful with fake sobs through the door. "Babe, a woman shoved me and refused to say sorry. You need to do something!"

Bernard barked in anger. "Who dares to push around my sweetheart?"

I strolled up to the private booth, leaned casually against the doorway, and looked over the suddenly silent room with a polite smile. "It's me."