The Saint's Wife

by Lauren Gallagher

  She gently freed herself from his grasp. “Guest room for now. One thing at a time. Please.”

  He exhaled sharply, probably just resisting the urge to roll his eyes, and muttered, “All right.”

  She turned to leave.

  “Jo.”

  She halted in her tracks and bit down on a curse before turning around to meet his eyes.

  The sarcasm and condescension had melted out of his expression, and his voice was gentle when he said, “It’s good to have you home.”

  There was a time when she could have forced a smile and replied that it was good to be home.

  That time had passed, though. She forced the smile, but the words wouldn’t come.

  And then Chris walked out of the room, and Joanna sagged against the counter.

  I should’ve stayed in Tillamook.

  In the guest room, Joanna faced herself in the mirror. Turned one way, then the other, scrutinizing the way her blouse and jeans fit. She had put on a few pounds since she’d gone to Oregon. Funny how that happened when there was no one around to remind her that “curves are beautiful” was a lie or to give her a disapproving scowl when she dared eat something that didn’t taste like lawn clippings.

  She scowled. God forbid she not take her role as trophy wife seriously. There was no doubt in her mind that Chris’s assistant was already on the phone to schedule a session with Kevin, the personal trainer who made damn sure Joanna stayed appropriately svelte.

  Sighing, Joanna shifted her gaze toward the long hallway that led toward the home gym. All she wanted to do right then was take a shower, unpack a few things and maybe sleep for an hour or two. Or call a few people to let them know she was back in town. Well, okay, two people. Kaylie and her mom, who didn’t even live around here. Anyone else, she’d been out of contact for so long, they probably hadn’t even noticed she was gone.

  Her shoulders sagged. Oh hell. Might as well get on the treadmill and get started before she had Kevin there to bark orders at her.

  She put one of her bags on the guest room bed and unpacked a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Then she went back downstairs and pushed open the door of the gym.

  Chris hadn’t lied—there wasn’t a speck of dust on any of the equipment. Joanna doubted the housekeeper had done a last second “oh shit, she’s coming home” job either. This place had probably been kept immaculate the entire time, since Chris had almost certainly assumed that Joanna would be waltzing through the front door at any moment. He wasn’t used to people walking out on him unless he cut off contact first like he had with his oppressive parents and toxic brother. The fact that his wife had stayed gone as long as she had must’ve baffled him.

  Well, she was back now. He’d won this round.

  Thank God she’d still gone out for daily runs while she was in Oregon—it helped to have some degree of existing fitness before diving into a “lose weight at once” program.

  She put in a pair of earbuds and stepped onto the treadmill. For the first fifteen minutes, she just walked to stretch out everything that was stiff after a few hours in the car. Once her body felt limber again, she turned up the speed to a steady jog. Half a mile into that, she cranked it up higher.

  Her legs burned and her chest ached. Good. By the time she was summoned for dinner, she’d barely be able to move, and Chris would be pleased and he’d get off her back. About this topic, anyway. After six months, he’d probably had time to think of something to harangue her about.

  Movement caught her eye, and she glanced in the mirror on the far wall as the door opened behind her, fully expecting her trainer to walk in. Already, Chris?

  Then she realized the new arrival wasn’t Kevin.

  It was David.

  His eyes were gentler now, though narrowed slightly as if he were trying to read her. Yesterday, the rain had slicked his near-black hair, but today it was the way she was used to seeing it—meticulously styled, as if to counter that ever-present dusting of stubble.

  Pity he was nothing more than a yes-man for Chris. If not for that, he might’ve actually passed for attractive.

  She took out one of her earbuds and turned down both her music and her speed. “Long time, no see.”

  “Right.” He rested his elbow on the elliptical beside the treadmill. “Glad to see you made it home in one piece.”

  “I’m sure you are.” She stared straight ahead as she continued jogging. “Mission accomplished.”

  David watched her for a moment. “It means a lot to him, you know. Having you home while he’s—”

  “Of course it does. Or, well, it’ll mean a lot to him when I’m back to the size he prefers.”

  David exhaled sharply. “He’s lashing out at everyone these days. Not just you.”

  “Oh really?” She shot him a glare. “So he wasn’t being a passive-aggressive asshole to you, me and everyone else before he got sick? Or is it just excusable now because he is sick?”

  David pressed his lips together.

  Joanna didn’t wait for a response. She shoved her earbud back in, cranked up the Maroon 5 song and focused on her burning calves and thighs.

  David stood there for a moment, just at the edge of her peripheral vision. Whether he spoke or not, she couldn’t say—thank God for a good set of earbuds.

  Finally, he left.

  And Joanna kept on running.

  Chapter Five

  David walked out of the gym and didn’t look back. He shouldn’t have come down here. He was on his way in to talk to Chris about some business, and happened to see her through the window. Thought he’d check on her. Make sure she’d made it home, see how she was doing.

  Bitchy and snide as always, apparently.

  Shaking his head, he continued up to Chris’s office. In spite of his irritation with Joanna, David couldn’t help feeling a little better as he went up the sweeping staircase. The fact that he had to go this way was just another sign of Chris’s refusal to surrender to this disease—he would not move his office to the ground floor no matter how much of a struggle it was to get up and down the stairs. Fortunately, his bedroom had always been just across the hall from the office, and he had enough people on his staff to make sure food and water could easily be brought to him when he couldn’t get to the kitchen himself. That had been the case long before the cancer hit, back when sheer workaholicism would keep him from leaving his desk unless he absolutely had to or he was needed at their downtown office.

  The longer Chris worked from here, the more David believed he might hang on. He wondered who was more deluded.

  At the end of the hall, Chris’s office door was open, so David stepped inside.

  As always, Chris was at his desk, hunched over a tablet that sat on top of a pile of papers between two huge flat screen monitors.

  At a smaller desk beside him, Hilary, Chris’s personal assistant, sat with her own tablet and her ever-present day planner. For a split second, David felt a pang of sadness that Alexandra wasn’t Chris’s PA anymore, and so she wasn’t sitting at that desk. She also wasn’t David’s wife anymore, so it was just as well, but still…

  “Hey,” he said to Chris as he took a seat in front of the desk.

  “Hey,” Chris muttered without looking up. Typical—he was probably engrossed in an e-mail or a report, and he’d surface when he reached the end of it.

  David lounged back in the chair, one ankle resting on the other knee.

  “Do you want some coffee?” Hilary asked.

  He shook his head. “No, I’m okay. Thank you.” He glanced at Chris, then at her. “How is, uh, everything—”

  Chris’s phone went off, and he swore as he raised his head to look at the screen. “Fuck. What does he want?”

  Simultaneously, David and Hilary stood. They knew the drill—if Chris actually took a call at his desk, then it was important, so they took
their conversation out into the hall. At least then they didn’t need to speak in code.

  David pulled the door shut behind him. “How is he doing?”

  She glanced past him at the closed door, and shrugged. “I think the news is still sinking in a bit. He’s been kind of…moody today.”

  David had long ago taught himself not to groan aloud in front of an employee. His exasperation was better kept behind closed doors. Of course, Chris was entitled to be moody right now, but that moodiness could be downright exhausting to those around him.

  Behind him, David could hear Chris barking rapid-fire questions at someone on the other end. Probably someone in R&D telling him something was behind schedule—nothing set Chris off faster than the research guys taking too long to have a breakthrough that seemed so obvious to him.

  David coughed into his fist. “I could use something to eat. How about you?”

  Hilary hesitated but shrugged. “Sure.”

  They went downstairs to the McQuaids’ kitchen. He and Chris had long ago established mi casa, su casa at both of their places, and didn’t think twice about raiding each other’s refrigerators, pantries or wine racks.

  This early in the day, the cook wasn’t on duty, so he and Hilary were alone for now. They’d done this enough times since she’d started working for Chris, he already knew her preferences, so didn’t bother to ask while he pulled sandwich fixings from the huge stainless-steel fridge.

  She took a seat in a barstool at the kitchen island, and he stood on the opposite side. While they each made up sandwiches, he watched her surreptitiously. Hilary made a half sandwich, taking a single slice of bread and folding it around the pieces of turkey and a little bit of mustard. Just the simple motions seemed to take a lot of effort. Damn, hadn’t Vanessa looked about the same before she’d quit a few months ago? Being a PA for someone as insanely busy and demanding as Chris was bound to take a toll on anyone. God knew it had run Alexandra into the ground. Though it was Chris who was ill, and these young women were spry and energetic, it never took more than a few months for the latest PA to be, when her boss wasn’t looking, exhausted to the point of lethargic.

  David inclined his head a little. “So, how are you holding up?”

  Hilary avoided his eyes and shrugged. “It’s hard, you know?”

  “Yeah. I know. And…” He paused. “Look, I know this is a difficult subject, and I hope to God I’m being way, way premature, but…when the time comes, if you need any references, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  She winced but met his gaze and nodded. “Thank you. Hopefully that won’t be an issue for a while.”

  “We can hope.”

  They both went quiet.

  She picked at her sandwich, then set it down and met David’s eyes again. “It’s just…he’s my boss, but I like the guy too, you know? It’s so hard to see him struggling with this.”

  Suddenly he wasn’t all that hungry anymore either. “Believe me, I understand.” He eyed his sandwich but finally forced himself to take a few bites, hoping that would subtly encourage her to do the same. She had a lot of long days ahead of her and couldn’t afford to forget to eat like the last three PAs—including his ex-wife—had frequently done.

  Hilary drummed her fingers beside her plate, but then she finally started eating too.

  “How did I know I’d find you two down here?”

  Chris’s voice almost made Hilary choke. She quickly gulped down a bite and then turned toward him as he came into the kitchen. “S-sorry. I didn’t realize—”

  “It’s all right.” He gestured for her to relax. “I could stand to eat too.”

  Well, that was a good sign. He was up and around, and he still had an appetite. God only knew how long either of those things would last.

  Chris rifled around in the fridge. Over his shoulder, he said, “Whatever you said, it must’ve worked. Joanna came home a little while ago.”

  “I know. I saw her downstairs in the gym.”

  “She’s in the gym already?” Chris turned around. He smiled and gave a slight nod of approval. “Good. I thought she’d wait until Kevin dragged her back.”

  David scowled. “No, she’s there. Saw her on my way in.”

  “The sooner she gets in and breaks whatever bad habits she’s developed, the better.” Chris waved a hand. “Once Kevin gets hold of her, she’ll be back to—”

  “Cut her some slack, Chris,” David said through his teeth. “She looks fine.”

  Chris shot him a look but then rolled his eyes.

  Hilary shifted uncomfortably and went back to picking at the remainder of her sandwich.

  Oblivious, Chris said, “Anyway, did you bring the proposal for the Galactic Fire expansion?”

  “Yeah.” David gestured toward the stairs. “We can go over that as soon as we’ve finished eating.”

  At least Chris had dropped the subject of his wife. Ironically, for as much as David didn’t particularly like Joanna, this was a topic he and Chris had argued about hundreds of times over the years. Chris knew how he wanted a woman—his woman—to look, and heaven help Joanna if she didn’t stay within those narrow standards.

  As Chris poured himself a pitcher of iced tea, Hilary stood. She took her plate and the remaining sandwich to the counter. “I should get back to work. I need to get on the horn with the hotel and fix the ballroom reservation for next month’s benefit.”

  “Perfect,” Chris said. “We’ll be up shortly.”

  Hilary smiled, collected her things off the island and left. As she walked out of the kitchen, David stole a glance at her.

  And couldn’t help wondering when she’d lost weight.

  The press conference wasn’t starting for another thirty minutes, but the Berserker Tech auditorium was already packed with reporters vying for the best position. Cameras and microphones were clustered in front of the table on the stage.

  Just looking out at the crowd of reporters was enough to make David ill. This was the auditorium where they’d announced several of the video games and game technologies that had put Berserker Tech on the map. It was where they broke the news about buying several smaller companies, expanding into other countries, major additions to the staff.

  A table had been set up at the front of the room with three chairs and one microphone. David would be sitting on the right. Joanna on the left. And in the middle, seated to hide the fact that he could only be on his feet for so long these days, would be Chris.

  It was a completely benign arrangement for a press conference, but it bothered David. Chris was the type who liked to stand up at a podium and speak. He’d never admitted it out loud, but David suspected he liked the feeling of standing up there like Citizen Kane or something, keeping the people in front of him riveted like a charismatic leader or an actor instead of a businessman speaking to his shareholders. David didn’t mind—he hated public speaking, so he was more than happy to let Chris handle that part.

  And the table at the front with the chairs and the microphone was a subtle but unmistakable reminder that Chris was slipping away. He could only stand for so long now. One of the medications made him dizzy, and either the cancer or the drugs had dropped his energy levels dramatically in just the last couple of weeks.

  Two months ago, he’d given a rousing keynote speech at a conference, and a week later, a long, inspiring speech at a graduation. Today, he had to admit defeat and sit down while he spoke.

  The chair was evidence enough of his weakening condition. The horde of reporters who’d convey the news to God knew how many sites and channels made this all real. The combination—the press facing down that chair—underscored the fact that Berserker Tech wouldn’t be announcing a badass new product or an advantageous expansion. Not this time.

  “David, there you are.”

  He turned around as Hilary stepped closer. She handed him some
typed notecards. “This is the statement Chris is going to give. Could you look it over and let me know how it sounds?”

  Oh God…

  “Yeah, sure.” He skimmed over it quickly—he was already pretty familiar with what Chris planned to say, and Hilary had condensed it nicely into a short, eloquent statement. Not quite as good as what Alexandra would have done with it, but not bad at all. And he couldn’t deny being extra relieved today that his ex-wife was no longer Chris’s assistant. Interacting with Hilary was much less awkward and uncomfortable, and David decided he’d take whatever blessings he could get these days.

  She fidgeted beside him. “Anything you want him to change?”

  David shook his head as he handed the cards back. “No, it sounds pretty straightforward. I can make more detailed announcements later when I delegate a few things, but this should keep the shareholders and the media happy for now.”

  She smiled and tucked the cards into her ever-present planner. He halfheartedly returned the smile, and as she walked away, he watched her for a second. Sadness tugged at his heart. Poor kid was good at what she did. Nothing but grace under fire, which was a requirement to work for Chris. She wouldn’t have any trouble finding another job after…after Chris didn’t need her anymore, but he didn’t wish the stress on her or anyone else.

  He mentally ran through Chris’s statement again.

  “…slowly shifting my responsibilities onto my business partner, David Lamont…”

  “…stepping back, but remaining as active as I can for as long as possible…”

  “…trust that Berserker Tech will be in capable hands…”

  David gulped. He’d never let Chris catch on, but the thought of running the company alone made him queasy. Of course there were other people involved, and he could delegate a number of tasks to them. But he and Chris had both been at the helm since day one. They both still kept long hours—Chris’s illness was the only thing that had ever kept either of them out of the office for any length of time—and worked their fingers to the bone to keep things running smoothly.