His Fake Wife, Her Real Voice

views of the Austin skyline, a fully stocked mini-fridge with drinks I co

gh-tech bed surrounded by beeping ma

alled me Mr. Clark, their voices

r in severe business suits, her expression cold and intimidating. Lying here, she just looked... small. Her f

silence was heavy, broken only by t

of a deal for me. A hundred and fifty grand a month. First thing I' m buying is a 1969 Mustang. Boss

g a little drunk

g with my money, you laz

r, and full of indignatio

back. I looked around the empty room.

xpression hadn't changed.

my palms against my eyes. "You' re lo

l figure on the bed. "Alright, fine. No parties. But the

as your work ethic. If you' re buying a car, it will b

finitely a woman' s voice. An

ibs. I leaned closer to Nicole, my

dead ambition? Now, are you going to just stand the

ear my comatose wife. And s