The Wrong Wife by Maya Alden

Chapter 9

Declan

“You’re such an asshole,” Daisy, a redhead with the cliched fiery temper said when Raya told her how I was making her investigate my new wife.

A successful film producer, Daisy, had joined our group in Boston when we were all in university. She’d married young and lost her husband Shane to cancer and we’d worked through it together. After nearly a decade of friendship we spoke our minds and didn’t bother with niceties with one another.

“Give him a break,” Mateo defended me. “His ex cheated on him for the entire time they were together.”

“Viv’s marriage I doubt is going to last long,” Raya announced. “Nick Steele is known to be a bit of a philanderer.”

“Match made in heaven then,” I muttered.

Raya sighed. “I know we never said anything, but Dec, Viv’s a cold bitch. I think you saw too much of your mother in her…”

“Another cold bitch,” Daisy piped in.

“Daisy, she’s my mother,” I protested half-heartedly.

“Please,” Daisy raised her hand, “I don’t know how you can’t see through all the crap your mom puts you through.”

“She means well,” I shrugged. “And the fact is she’s never made me do anything I didn’t want to do. She overlooks my foibles and I do the same for her.”

We’d abandoned the poker game because I was in no mood to play. Raya had a preliminary report on Esme and according to that report, Esme was an honors student and valedictorian. She had been invited to a PhD program in social service at UC Berkeley, which she had deferred to get more work experience. Esme was an accomplished student—and she had graduated with a master’s degree at the age of twenty three.

“And she’s right, Mark is gay. You know his sister,” Raya informed me.

I raised an eyebrow.

“Maria Caruso.”I nodded. Yes, Maria and I played in some of the same social circles; and I knew that her brother, a neurosurgeon was gay. It had been a scandal when he’d not gone into the family business.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“She doesn’t have a trust fund. She did have a small inheritance from her grandmother who raised her from when she was eight years old. She owned a vineyard. Your girl is into her wine, by the way,” Raya said, looking at a report. “Spends a decent amount of money on wine every month.”

Mateo shook his head. “One thing to see if she’s sleeping around, quite another to look at how she spends her money. This is too invasive, even for you, Dec.”

“All of it is invasive,” Daisy admonished. “Raya, next time, ask him to go fuck himself.”

“He pays the bills,” Raya grinned.

“I’m your boss,” Mateo countered.

Something flared between them, and I once again wondered if they had crossed that line from friendship to something else. I knew she was attracted to him; it was plain to see if you knew Raya. Her eyes followed him. But who knew where Mateo’s heart was. I had never seen him go beyond a few weeks of dating. He wasn’t what I used to be, fuck them, and leave them—he was into serial monogamy.

Maybe that’s what I needed to do again—fuck a few or several women to get the taste of Viv out of my mouth, so to speak.

Viv and I used to be friends, until one day, she seduced me. Best day of my life, I’d thought until a few days ago. After just six months of dating, she asked to move in, and I was happy to let her. She helped me redecorate the penthouse. We officially lived together for three months; but she was mostly in San Francisco, working on a case. I never suspected she was unhappy until she told me that she was done. She had gone to Vegas and married Nick Steele, a quintessential tech bro who could give Elon Musk a run for his money both in finances and personality.

She didn’t explain herself and I was too proud to ask. When she told me what she’d done I told her that Baker would make sure to wipe her existence out of my apartment. So, if she wanted something of hers that was at my place, she should talk to him. And that was that. Since then, she’d called and texted to apologize, and when I married Esme to rail and rant. I hadn’t blocked her. I couldn’t. If she kept calling me and texting me, then there was hope that I could marry the right sister someday.

“The good news is that your wife is not cheating on you,” Raya let me know.

“What’s the bad news?” I asked.

“For you? Nothing. For her? She seems like a softy, Dec,” Raya said sadly. “Gives to women’s shelters. Takes care of people. Volunteers while she’s working in a bar and a women’s clinic; and going to school.”

“She’s a Hartley, I don’t understand why she needs so many jobs,” Daisy said.

“Julien it appears has written her out of his will. Viv inherits everything—even his shares,” Daisy revealed.

“What does Esme get?” Mateo asked.

“Nothing.” Raya turned off her iPad. “From what I can tell, she’s on her own, always has been. Her mother, now she’s a piece of work. Monica Hartley spends a ton of money on clothes and jewelry for herself; just bought a Bulgari diamond choker for one million.”

“But she didn’t pay for her school?” Mateo was baffled.

It almost seemed like Esme was a tool for Julien and Monica. They ignored her until they had a need. Is that why she had become so complacent? Is that why didn’t seem to have a will of her own…except when I said she couldn’t work. No, then the fire came out. Maybe I should talk to my mother and let Esme have her job. And maybe I should talk to my lawyer and make sure that she gets some money at the end of our marriage. I could afford it. And she’d fucking earn it living with me and dealing with my mother.

I stayed, finishing a bottle of red Burgundy with Mateo after Daisy and Raya left.

“I’m treating her like shit,” I confessed to Mateo. “She makes me angry…not because she’s demanding or…she’s just so fucking pleasant, no matter what.”

“Looks like her family trained her to be like that.” Mateo filled my glass up.

We had food delivered from Maestros nearby and the steaks went well with the full-bodied wine. I wondered what kind of wine Esme liked. We had a love for wine in common. Maybe I should take her out for dinner, and we could get to know one another a little.

“Most of the time I feel like she doesn’t give a shit. Like no matter what I say, she’s determined to not change how she behaves. It’s frustrating. I called her a doormat and I think I hurt her.”

Mateo winced. “No one, especially one who is one wants to be called a doormat.”

“But she behaves like one. Viv would’ve kicked my ass fifty times by now.”

“Viv also cheated on you and jeopardized your and her father’s company. Viv is selfish as fuck. Esme doesn’t seem to be the that type. Give her a chance, at least to become a friend if not a wife.”

“Maybe.” I wasn’t sure what I wanted from Esme. Her entire presence exasperated me. I wish she’d stop smiling all the time and fight back a little.