The Contract Wife Chapter 10
After that, Nathan launched into something close to obsession.
At first it was calls and texts, daily, unceasing. Short. Just small, ordinary concerns.
I didn’t answer. Didn’t reply. Eventually I blocked him entirely.
Then he began sending things to my office. Desserts I liked. Freshly ground coffee. Cut flowers. Every delivery timed to arrive still warm.
I refused them. He kept sending.
In the end, he began appearing outside my office building, rain or shine.
He didn’t try to corner me. He just stood at a distance and watched.
Whispers began circulating through certain circles: that Nathan Ashford was pestering his ex-wife after the divorce. That he’d cut off Ruby Calloway, the actress at the height of her career, over her.
I didn’t believe it at first. Until my best friend called with more gossip.
“I heard Ruby’s new drama and all her endorsements were pulled. Her agency dropped her. Word is Nathan gave the order, and he covered the breach-of-contract fees without blinking.”
I said nothing.
She went on. “You remember Damon? The private-equity partner who’s always running his mouth at dinner parties?”
I vaguely did. I’d met him a few times at charity galas. Slick, insufferable.
“So at some private cocktail thing recently, he got wasted and started running his mouth right in front of Nathan. First he goes on about how loose Ruby was back in the day, seamlessly attaching herself to whoever, and then he starts saying you’d been his target for a long time. Asked Nathan if he minded.”
I froze.
“Nathan hit him. Right there. One punch, dropped him to the floor. The whole private room went insane. Everyone assumed he was defending Ruby. But then he said something, and it shut every last one of them up.”
“What did he say?”
“He said—’If you ever say her name again, I’ll make sure you never work in this city again.'”
I was still holding the phone. I leaned back in my office chair and stared at the ceiling.
She added, “And afterward, he had someone dig into Ruby. Turns out that when the Ashford crisis hit, she hadn’t been forced away at all. She left on her own to trade up. The love letters were fabricated. She jumped straight from him to Zhou Yan without so much as a day between.”
“Evelyn, do you think… he actually does regret it?”
“I don’t know,” I said, cutting her off. “And I don’t want to.”
I hung up, stood, poured myself a glass of water.
I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window watching the traffic thread through Lower Manhattan.
The water was cold. It went down tight.