Chapter 1

At eight months pregnant, I walked into our company Christmas party and learned that my husband had moved me from the head table to a seat beside the restrooms so his longtime female best friend could sit next to him.

He had not told me beforehand.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Holloway." A staff member stopped me before I reached the head table and handed me a new place card. "Mr. Holloway changed the seating this afternoon. Management is at the head table. Spouses and guests are at Table Twelve."

I followed her gesture toward the back of the room.

Table Twelve sat beside the restrooms and the exit. Everyone there was the spouse of an employee I had never met.

The second seat at the head table should have had my name on it.

Instead, the card read Taryn Bell.

Taryn had been Wes's best friend in college. After her divorce eighteen months earlier, he had hired her to "temporarily" manage the office.

Now she sat on my husband's right in a burgundy dress, reaching up to straighten his tie.

Wes finally noticed me. He did not stand. He simply walked over and took my arm.

"Walking is already hard for you," he murmured. "Sitting near the exit will be more comfortable. Taryn has to give a presentation tonight, and the head table is for management. Don't make everyone uncomfortable over one chair."

"The seating chart you showed me last night had me beside you." I handed him the new card. "If you wanted to give my seat to her, you could have told me first."

"I can move," Taryn said, reaching for her purse with a sympathetic smile. "It's only a seat. I don't want to cause trouble between you two."

Her hand closed around the purse, but she did not get up.

"No." Wes pressed the purse back onto the table. "You're representing the company tonight. It makes sense for you to sit here."

Only then did he turn back to me.

"Camille, don't turn this into something bigger than it is. You're my wife no matter where you sit. We'll still go home together when the party is over."

He spoke as though I were fighting over a chair.

Eight years earlier, the company had been a folding table in our garage.

My savings paid for the first order of materials. I prepared the first quote. For two years, while we could not afford a bookkeeper, I worked all day and handled Wes's accounts at night without taking a salary.

Now Taryn represented the company.

I had been reduced to a spouse at the back of the room.

Halfway through dinner, Wes walked onto the stage. He thanked the employees, the clients, and everyone who had stayed through the company's hardest years.

I thought he might mention the nights we had spent in that garage.

He did not.

Instead, he held out a hand to Taryn and brought her onto the stage.

"There is one person I need to thank separately," Wes said. "During the hardest year this company has ever faced, Taryn helped me carry one project after another. She saved our most important client and took on problems no one else wanted to touch."

He looked at her with undisguised pride.

"Starting in January, she will officially oversee daily operations. Whenever I am away, Taryn will make the decisions."

Applause filled the ballroom.

Taryn hugged him, and his hand settled naturally at her waist.

Then the photographer invited management onto the stage.

I started to rise, but he stopped me with an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Holloway. This photo is for company leadership. We'll take one with the families later."

I looked at Wes.

He had heard every word, but he did not correct the photographer.

Taryn was asked to move closer to him. When the flash went off, she slipped her arm through his.

Minutes later, the photograph appeared on the company's official account.

The caption contained one sentence.

In the new year, Wes Holloway and Taryn Bell will lead us forward together.