“I’ve been looking at the financial reports,” I
く
say with a sweet voice. “Lauren’s numbers
are amazing. She deserves to be the
marketing director.”
I cut off Frank before he can change the
subject.
Lauren’s surprised I’m sticking up for her.
I checked into her background last time.
Small–town girl, sick dad, dead mom.
She was willing to put up with being “the
other woman” to get that promotion and pay
for his medical bills.
“Thanks, Josie,” Lauren whispers, eyes
watering.
“We’ll discuss it with the other board
members,” Frank says, trying to weasel out of
- it.
I pull up Ethan’s information on my phone,
sounding puzzled:
“I heard another candidate named Ethan, 36,
community college grad, average Joe. How
did he afford a fancy overseas trip a few
years ago, and then suddenly become a VP at
one of our subsidiaries?”
I pause, casually asking one of the design
assistants:
“Didn’t we have a girl here in your department
who looked like him? What was her name?”
The assistant hesitates, then says:
“Oh, you mean Emily?”
“Josie!” Frank explodes.
He can’t let this go on, so he grits his teeth
and says:
“I think Lauren’s a better fit for the job. I’ll get
HR on it tomorrow.”
“Why wait? Let’s do it now,” I say, smiling
wider.
Frank chokes, then nods in defeat.
Then he says, like he can’t take it anymore:
“I gotta go,” and rushes out of the room.
He’s probably going to grovel to Emily.
I keep smiling and wave goodbye.
Then I wink at Lauren.
As I walk by, she whispers:
“I’ve got what you need. Meet me tonight
near my apartment.”
The party wraps up, but Frank and Emily
never reappear.
I play dumb and text Frank:
“Hey babe, girls want to grab late night bite.
Be home late.”
He texts back right away:
“Okay. Have fun.”
I turn off my phone, sneering at the screen.
If Frank paid attention, he’d know I never eat
late.
I drive to Lauren’s apartment.
It’s a total dump.
I pull up, and Lauren runs down after about 15
minutes.
She’s not dressed up this time.
<
She’s wearing a faded t–shirt with a hole in it.
She looks serious as she gets in the car.
“Three years with Frank, and he couldn’t even
buy you a decent place?” I ask, raising an
eyebrow.
Lauren gives a bitter laugh:
“I didn’t want him to. I thought he actually
loved me. So, I didn’t want to make it all
about money.”
She glances at me, hands me a flash drive,
and says, almost ashamed:
“I was 21 back then. Emily and I started
working here at the same time. I knew Frank
liked me ever since I became his secretary.
But I knew he had a girlfriend, so I never went
after him.”
Her voice cracks, but she quickly pulls herself
together.
“My dad needed surgery, and Frank gave me
the money. I’m grateful. He was the most
く
amazing man I ever met, and when he looked
at me, I lost it. I’m sorry, Josie, but I swear, I
never did anything to hurt you.”
“I never wanted to ruin your relationship,” she
continues. “I just needed the job. The night of
the car crash, I was trying to give you this
drive, but Frank found out.”
I look at this girl who is younger than me.
I feel for her.
I hand her a tissue, saying:
“We both died last time, Lauren. Now, we’re
both done with him. There’s nothing to
apologize for. Why did you want to give me
the flash drive?”
Lauren wipes her eyes, and says, firm:
“I just wanted to earn money to save my dad
and didn’t want to hurt you.”
“I found some shady stuff between Frank and
Emily, and it hit me hard.
“I followed Frank and took some pictures of
him and Emily, and I also found the house he
bought for her.”
Lauren pauses, her voice getting softer.
“Frank was going to stay with you because of
your kid. It was Emily’s dad that forced his
hand.”
Driving home, I see a red light. I take off the
ring.
LY is etched inside.
Frank was being extra cautious.
But what did Lauren do to deserve this?
Or me and my unborn kid?
Or my parents, for speaking the truth?
Night air evaporates the tears in my eyes.
I throw the ring out the window and dial a
number I haven’t called in forever.
After three rings, a deep, gravelly voice
answers:
く
“Josie, I’m here.”
A lump forms in my throat:
“Can you help me with something?” I croak.
For the next two weeks, Frank’s nowhere to
be found.
He said he was on a business trip.
But I have Emily’s secondary Instagram
account.
He was with Emily, in another country.
They are so happy together.
I see the six–figure purse, the engagement
ring worth over ten million.
Frank’s gazing at Emily in every picture.
He’s obsessed.
I exit and open the information file I have
saved: the TRUTH.
I can’t stop smiling.
I hope he’s still loving his “pure” little
sweetheart when the truth comes out.
