PART 2
“To stay here,” Rachel cut in. “You can find something smaller. Honestly, for the baby’s sake, you should be reasonable.”
I watched her face. There was no shame there, only impatience, like I was a slow cashier holding up her line.
“How long have you known Tyler?” I asked her.
“Long enough.”
“Rachel works in my office,” Tyler said weakly.
“For how long?”
Rachel waved a hand. “A while. I started right after they hired the new VP, so.”
“That was over a year ago,” I said.
Something flickered in her eyes.
“And when did you find out about my father’s inheritance?”
The flicker cracked. “I don’t know what you’re.”
“You mentioned the house specifically,” I said.
“So what?”
“Not Tyler’s salary. Not the cars. The house. You knew it was paid for. You knew where the money came from. Tyler complained about that inheritance to anyone who’d listen at the office holiday party. I heard him do it myself. Whining into his bourbon about money that wasn’t his to touch. You were there, weren’t you, Rachel? Taking notes.”
Her shoulders flinched once.
It was enough.
I leaned forward, my voice low enough that everyone in the kitchen had to lean closer.
“You didn’t fall in love with my husband, Rachel. You picked him out like a melon at the store. You squeezed him, you checked the price tag, and you carried him to the register.”
Tyler slowly turned his head toward her. “Rachel?”
She recovered quickly, but not quickly enough. “I just heard things around the office, Tyler. Don’t be ridiculous.”
Margaret reached into her tote and slid one folder across the table.
“Then perhaps you can explain this,” she said.
Rachel went still.
Tyler picked up the folder before she could. He opened it.
“Debra asked me to look into a few things back in the spring,” Margaret said evenly.
“Come on,” Rachel smirked.
“I’ve had a paralegal friend at your company, running quiet checks for me ever since. Public employment records, civil filings, and a few LinkedIn trails. Two other executives, at two other firms. Job changes, abrupt departures. Both men left their positions within months of Rachel’s arrival. Both marriages ended.”
Color drained from Tyler’s face page by page.
He read it. Then read it again.
“This isn’t,” Rachel began. “This is out of context.”
“Are you actually pregnant?” Tyler asked, very quietly.
She did not answer.
“Rachel. Are you actually pregnant?”
Still nothing.
