My Husband's Mistress Thinks She's Me
Juniper Marlow · Completed · 6.5k Words
Introduction
Ten seconds later she deleted it. Breezy apology. Oops, wrong group.
I looked at the photo one more time before it disappeared. I didn't check the numbers. I looked at the name painted across the bow.
It was my mother's name.
The boat was mine. My father had told me about it a week ago.
The chat didn't care. Which family is she from? Ninety-six feet of custom teak. Sienna, you dark horse.
I asked, quietly, if she'd share the registration number. I wanted to hear what she'd say.
My own husband stood up from two desks over and tore into me in front of every member in the room. Told me I was jealous. Told me I was an embarrassment. Told me to know my place.
Later that week, he broke into my safe. Took the diamond my father had given me for my mother â and put it around her neck.
That night my father's encrypted voice memo came in from somewhere at sea. One minute long. The last line was this:
"Find your mother's necklace. I can't wear her myself. I need you to wear her for me."
Chapter 1
Monday morning. Sienna Vance's first week as a club member, and she'd already set the chat on fire.
The screenshot sat in the group for seconds. A yacht purchase contract.
La Celestine.
Her caption read: Thanks for the birthday present, Dad đ„
Then it was gone. A second later: Oops. Wrong chat. Sorry.
No flurry of apology emojis. No begging anyone to keep quiet. Just enough to look innocent.
The group kept going without her.
"La Celestine. Isn't that the one Monaco flagged last year as 'not for sale'?"
"Ninety-six feet. Custom teak. I heard the builder turned down a nine-figure offer."
"Who gives that to their kid for a birthday?"
"Sienna, seriously, which family are you from?"
My husband Julian was in the chat too. I watched his message post under everyone else's.
Sienna, if you ever need a bag boy for the first sail, put me down. đ
Three laugh emojis. Half the chat piled on with more of the same.
I picked up my water glass. Set it down. Picked it up again.
My hand didn't want to be still.
Whatever a man's affection cost, if you were paying for it, it was already worth less than the dust off a shoe.
Julian stood up and walked across the room like he was going to collect a medal. He held out a printed form to her with both hands.
"Sienna. I pushed through your new-member fee waiver this morning. Saves you the paperwork."
She looked at the form. Then at him.
"Excuse me?"
"Sorry?"
"What exactly are you trying to say to me. That I can't cover the initiation fee."
Julian's mouth opened. Closed.
"I. No. I was just..."
"Tear it up."
He tore it. Right there, in front of her.
Someone behind me snorted. "Julian, mate. A favor like that, to a Vance? You're flicking lint at her."
"Try again in ten years, buddy."
He scuttled back to his desk without looking at me.
I'd opened the screenshot again before Sienna deleted it. I hadn't checked the numbers. I'd looked at the name on the bow.
La Celestine.
My mother's name.
My father had called me from the marina last Wednesday. He hadn't told me which boat. He'd said, your birthday present is sitting in the water. Your mother's name is on the bow.
My fingers stopped on the keyboard.
I looked up.
"Sienna. Could you share the registration number? I want to check something."
The office went still.
Sienna's face locked for half a second. Then she tilted her head, and her voice came out sugared.
"Celine. Is that really how you speak to a member of this yacht club?"
Someone picked it up for her, fast.
"Celine, what are you doing? You want Sienna to loan out her yacht for a club tour? Give your little liaison desk something to brag about?"
"Leave her, Vic. She's jealous. The girl's twenty-three with a yacht, Celine's 25 and filing forms."
Julian shoved his chair back. "Celine. What is wrong with you? Sienna's first week and you're doing this. Are you broken today?"
"Sienna hasn't even said a thing and she's already at her."
"It's always the ones filing the forms."
Sienna sighed, slow and patient, like she was about to calm a confused cat.
"Everyone. Please. Celine's probably never seen something like this up close. It's normal to be curious."
"Don't pile on her. Not on my account."
Nobody in the room was in on the joke.
The yacht was mine. My father had told me last week. I hadn't even been down to see it yet.
He was the one who'd decided I'd come through this building as staff first. Keep my head down. Learn what the front desk handled before I stood in a ballroom pretending I belonged. I'd said yes.
Somewhere between last Wednesday and this morning, Sienna Vance had gotten her hands on a photograph of my contract and stood herself up in front of it.
I let the silence settle. Then I smiled.
"You're right. I haven't seen anything like it."
"So since you're being generous, Sienna, why don't you invite us down to the berth? Let the rest of us who've never seen a yacht like that take a look."
The office lit up.
"Yes! Yes!"
"First-sailing party, Sienna, come on."
"Put me first on the list."
Sienna's smile was stuck on her face.
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