Page 20 of Whiskey Lies

He clears his throat when Cat walks out. “Get on with it.”

I laugh and roll my eyes. “I need everything you can dig up on Grace Kensington.” I slide the piece of paper that Cat gave me across the desk and then remember that it came from Brutus himself.

“Already done,” he says, handing me a manila folder with a quirk of his brow.

I shake my head. “Thanks. I guess you’re not fired yet.”

“If you remember, I didn’t want this job to begin with.”

I shrug. “And yet you took it.”

“Because you need me.”

It’s true. I really do. Especially now that I know I really am on my own. With no Grace, and nothing to look forward to outside of these four walls, my best friend by my side is the least of my necessities.

I last until nine p.m. before opening the folder. Honestly, it’s not a bad run. But at this point I can’t help myself. Before I sit down with her tomorrow, I need to see proof of her marriage. I need to know everything about her real life so I can get over the fantasy I’ve created in my mind.

The first thing I find is information on her job. She works with a woman named Marion who founded the company. I wonder what their relationship is like. Does she know her star employee is a cheater? The company focuses on the long-lasting forever kind of love. There are testimonials from committed couples, and an explanation of their “tried and true” method to finding happily ever afters.

Rolling my eyes, I flip to the next page titled About Us.

And there she is. Grace Kensington. Graduated in 2007. That would make her thirty-six. At least she didn’t lie about that.

Interestingly enough, there is nothing about her marriage. Odd. You’d think she’d want to advertise that—like her clients—she is happily married.

Next is her Instagram profile. I pull it up on my phone and find it’s public and consists completely of work updates. Nothing from last week. No pictures of the beach and definitely nothing of me.

Of course, why would there be? She couldn’t let her husband know she’d been with another man. I wonder if he even knew she’d been away on vacation. Maybe she told him she was traveling to a convention in Denver or some other boring place he wouldn’t want to go.

How often does she do this?

My skin crawls as I imagine her with other men, which is ridiculous because she is probably at home with another man right now. Her husband.

Nothing on Instagram indicates she’s married. There are a few pictures of her with friends but nothing recent. Tossing my phone, I go back to the folder. Next up is an article from Vanity Fair which mentions Grace by name and sings the praises of the company she works for.

But nothing about her marriage.

I don’t know if I should be happy or annoyed. I need to see her husband—to see her happily married—to convince myself this is real. Something about it all seems so off. The person in my office today was cold and detached, and nothing like the woman I spent the weekend with. Something doesn’t add up, and as unhealthy as it is, that just makes me more intrigued.

Chapter 7

Grace

For the last few days I have been able to avoid going back to the home I shared with Steven, but I’m running out of clothes. Now that I’m going to be dealing with setting up my dream man with someone else, I at least need the comfort of some really hot outfits to make me feel better.

Oh, let’s be honest, nothing is going to make me feel better. Cash hates me and I don’t even blame him. I hate me, too, and I know the truth.

I’m not a cheater. I fell for Cash just as hard as he did for me. But if life has taught me anything it’s that you can’t pin all your hopes and dreams on a man. I need to stand on my own two feet, in business and in life, and in order to do that I need this promotion. I need this company. It’s all I have left.

I blow out a breath before sticking my key in the lock. Fortunately, the house is dark. Steven isn’t home.

It’s weird walking into a home I’ve shared with a man for the last six years that I always imagined growing old in and knowing that all those dreams evaporated after one conversation.

“Grace, you and I haven’t been happy for a long time; this shouldn’t come as a shock to you.”

See, the problem with Steven’s words is that it presupposes that when you’re unhappy in a marriage you just decide to look elsewhere. That wasn’t ever a thought that crossed my mind. Even if I was unhappy—which I’m not admitting I was—I didn’t look to another man to make me happy. I focused on things that made me happy. Or considered what I could do for Steven to make us both happy.

Although, if I’m being totally honest—which I suppose there is no reason not to be now that we’re getting a divorce—I hadn’t thought about how to make Steven happy in a long time. Maybe he’s right; I gave up. I stopped trying. What did I expect him to do?

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