Page 131 of The Wife Situation

He taps the roof before he runs around to the driver’s side. After cranking it, he gently revs the engine before we take off.

“Do you know where you’re going?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says, shifting the car into fourth gear, hauling ass.

I look up at the clouds and the blue sky, floating my hand out the window. Fifteen minutes later, he’s turning into my parents’ driveway.

“You know, if you file for divorce, you’ll have to deal with my mother,” I warn.

“If.Nice word choice,” he says, parking and turning off the car. “And I’ll be happy to.”

As Easton opens my door and I step out, I hear my mother saying my name.

“Alexis?” my mother says again.

I give her a warm smile as my nerves get the best of me.

“Hey, Mom! Surprise!”

She walks to the edge of the porch. The shock on her face is evident.

“I want you to meet someone, Mama. This is Easton Calloway. My boyfriend and the man I’m marrying,” I say with Calloway confidence.

He grabs my hand and interlocks his fingers with mine. My mother notices, and I think I see her smile.

“Well, you two come inside and catch us all up,” she says, leading the way.

“Us?”

“Your brothers and I were about to eat lunch.”

“They’re here?” I glance at the time on my phone. It’s almost one. I thought they ate lunch each day at eleven.

“Yeah,” she says. “They got caught up in the field today and arrived late. It’s lucky timing that you’re here.”

Easton glances my way. He knows my timing is awful, which can only mean one thing—this might be a total disaster.

28

EASTON

Birthday countdown: 32 days

Since meeting her: 14 days

Company takeover: 39 days

Lexi’s palm grows sweaty as we walk down the hallway that leads to the kitchen in the two-story farmhouse. It feels like home, a place that was full of love, growing up. I envy this.

She leads me toward the kitchen, and I stop to glance over the pictures on the wall, all hanging in different-sized frames. It’s a collage of Lexi’s life.

“Is this you?” I ask, pointing to one of the photos.

There’s a little girl dressed in a red wig, center stage, with her arms spread wide. By the positioning of her mouth, she’s singing.

She laughs. “Yes, I played Annie in the community theater’s summer show. I guess the billionaire thing has been going on for a while.”

Laughter escapes me. “You’re terrible.”

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