A New Job

Mia's POV

I sat in the dark living room, watching the hours tick by. The house felt emptier than usual. Kyle hadn't come home since the incident at the office three days ago. I knew he was punishing me, but I still waited.

The clock struck midnight. Then one. Then two. No Kyle.

My phone buzzed, startling me. A message from an old college friend lit up my screen.

"Hey stranger! Long time no see. Coffee tomorrow?"

Jeo Parker. I hadn't heard from him in ages. Back in college, we'd spent countless hours together in the art studio. He'd always believed in my talent, even when I didn't.

I hesitated before replying. A coffee wouldn't hurt, would it?

"Sure. Where?"

The next morning, I found myself at a quiet café downtown. Jeo was already there, his familiar smile warming the room. He stood when he saw me, and I was struck by how well time had treated him. His dark hair was stylishly messy, his blue eyes as kind as I remembered.

"Mia Williams," he said, pulling me into a gentle hug. "Still as beautiful as ever."

I blushed, unused to such open affection. "You look good too, Jeo."

"I ordered you hot chocolate instead of coffee," he said as we sat down. "You never could stomach coffee in the morning."

The simple fact that he remembered made my throat tight. When was the last time someone had noticed such a small detail about me?

"So," he began, "I heard you're working at K.T. Enterprises?"

I nodded, stirring my hot chocolate. "In HR."

"Really?" His eyebrows rose. "The girl who painted that incredible mural in the university hall ended up in HR?"

"Things change," I said softly.

"They don't have to." He leaned forward. "That's actually why I wanted to meet. My design firm just landed a huge project. We're looking for fresh talent, and I immediately thought of you."

"Me?"

"Don't act surprised, Mia. You were always the most talented girl . Remember that scholarship you turned down?"

I did remember. It had been right after Kyle hired me as his secretary. I'd convinced myself that being close to him was more important than pursuing my dreams.

"I don't know, Jeo. It's been years since I've drawn anything."

"Just come see the studio," he pleaded. "No pressure. Just look around."

His enthusiasm was infectious. For the first time in days, I felt myself smiling. "Maybe I could—"

"Mia."

That voice. My smile froze.

Kyle stood at our table, his expression unreadable. He wore a crisp black suit. He looked perfect, untouchable.

"Mr. Branson," I said automatically, my voice small.

Jeo stood, extending his hand. "Kyle Branson? I'm Jeo Parker. I went to college with Mia."

Kyle ignored his hand. His eyes were fixed on me. "A word, Mia."

It wasn't a request. I stood shakily, avoiding Jeo's concerned look.

"Mia," Jeo called after me. "Think about what I said, okay?"

Kyle's jaw tightened. He led me outside, his hand on my elbow. His touch burned through my sleeve.

"Who is he?" Kyle's voice was low, dangerous.

"Just an old friend."

"Friends don't look at each other that way."

I pulled my arm free. "What way? The way you look at Taylor?"

His eyes flashed. "That's different."

"How? How is it different, Kyle?"

"Because you signed a contract." He stepped closer, crowding me against the wall. "You agreed to certain terms. No relationships with other men during our marriage."

I laughed bitterly. "Our marriage? Is that what you call this arrangement?"

"It's still legally binding." His breath fanned across my face. "Or have you forgotten?"

"No," I whispered. "I haven't forgotten anything. Including where you've been the past three days."

Something flickered in his eyes. Guilt? Anger? I couldn't tell anymore.

"What I do is none of your concern."

"But what I do is your concern?" I challenged. "That's not fair, Kyle."

"Life isn't fair." He straightened his tie. "Remember our agreement, Mia. Don't make me remind you again."

He turned to leave, then paused. "And tell your friend to stop wasting his time. You're not available."

"He's offering me a job," I said to his back.

Kyle stopped. Turned slowly. "What?"

"A job. At his design firm." I lifted my chin. "I used to paint, before..."

"Before what?"

"Before I became your secretary." The words tasted bitter. "Before I signed your contract."

Kyle's expression darkened. "You're not considering it."

"Why not? You've suspended me anyway."

"Temporarily." He stepped closer again. "You're my wife, Mia."

"Your wife?" I met his gaze. "Because it seems like I'm only your wife when it's convenient for you. When you need to show the board how stable you are. When you need someone to warm your bed."

His hands clenched into fists. "That's not true."

"Then where were you these past three days, Kyle? With Taylor?"

Kyle grabbed my wrist, not hard enough to hurt, but firm. "You knew what this was from the beginning. Don't act like I deceived you."

"No," I whispered. "I deceived myself. I thought maybe... maybe if I was patient enough, kind enough, if I followed all your rules..." I pulled my wrist free. "But I was wrong, wasn't I?"

Something flickered in his eyes. "Mia..."

"You don't get to control every aspect of my life, Kyle. Not anymore."

"The contract—"

"The contract says I can't have relationships with other men. It doesn't say anything about taking a job." I straightened my spine. "Unless you're jealous?"

His laugh was harsh. "Jealous? Of him? Don't be ridiculous."

"Then there's no problem, is there?"

We stood there, staring at each other. For a moment, I thought I saw something in his eyes. But then his mask slipped back into place.

"Fine," he said coldly. "Take the job. But remember your place, Mia. You're still my wife."

"No, Kyle. I'm your employee who happens to have signed a marriage contract. There's a difference."

"We'll discuss this at home," he said finally. Without another word, he turned and walked away. This time, I let him go.

My phone buzzed with a message from Jeo.

"Are you okay? Want to finish our conversation about the job?"

I stared at the message for a long time. And I typed back: "Tell me more about the position."

Unwanted Feelings

Kyle's POV

I couldn't focus on work. The image of Mia with that man kept playing in my mind. Jeo Parker. Even his name irritated me.

"Linda," I called through the intercom. "Get me everything you can find on Jeo Parker."

"The designer?" Linda's voice was carefully neutral. "Right away, sir."

I loosened my tie. The office felt too hot. What would Mia be doing at his design firm? Would she be alone with him? Would they work late together? Artists do that sort of thing, don't they?

The thought of them in his studio made my jaw clench. Would he teach her how to hold a brush? Would his hands touch hers? Would they work on portraits? Would she pose for him?

I yanked my tie completely off. The images wouldn't stop. Mia smiling at him the way she used to smile at me. Mia staying late at his studio. Mia letting him get too close.

"Stop it," I muttered, pouring myself a drink. This was purely professional concern. Nothing more. Mia was my wife. On paper, at least. I had a right to know about her work environment.

Linda knocked and entered with a thick file. "Jeo Parker's background, sir."

I flipped through it, my frown deepening with each page. Award-winning independent designer. Guest lecturer at prestigious art schools. His work had been featured in major galleries across Europe. Forbes' 30 Under 30. Private commissions from celebrities and royalty.

Something uncomfortable settled in my stomach. "Find out more about his personal life."

Linda hesitated. "Sir?"

"Is he married? Dating anyone?"

"I'll check." She paused. "There's something else you should know."

I looked up.

"Miss Williams was an art major in college. She had a full scholarship offer to Paris."

I stared at her. "What?"

"She turned it down when you hired her as your secretary." Linda's voice was careful. "Her professors said she was exceptionally talented."

The uncomfortable feeling in my stomach grew. Why hadn't I known this? Had I ever asked Mia about her interests? Her dreams?

"Should I look into acquiring his company?" I asked abruptly.

Linda gave me a long look. "Is that really what this is about, sir?"

"Get our lawyers to—"

"Mr. Branson," Linda interrupted, something she rarely did. "Maybe you should talk to your wife instead of trying to buy her colleague's company."

I dismissed her with a wave. My phone buzzed. Taylor. I ignored it.

Taylor. She used to mean everything to me. Now... now her calls felt like interruptions. When had that changed?

I drove home early, something I never did. The house was quiet when I entered. Mia was in the living room, sketching something in a notebook. She looked up, surprised to see me.

"You're home early."

I walked over, studying her face. She looked tired. Pale. Was she working too hard? Was she sick? Or was she just excited about her new job with him?

Without thinking, I pulled her up from the couch. She felt small in my arms, familiar. Right. I lowered my head to kiss her.

She turned away suddenly, her hand flying to her mouth. Before I could react, she ran to the bathroom. I heard her retching.

"Mia?" I followed her, concern overriding my annoyance. "Are you sick?"

She emerged pale, wiping her mouth. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." I reached for her, but she stepped back.

"I won't be your backup plan anymore, Kyle." Her voice was tired. "I won't share you with Taylor."

"This isn't about Taylor." The thought of Taylor felt distant, unimportant.

"Then what is it about?" Her green eyes challenged me. "Why are you really here?"

Because I can't stand the thought of you working with him. Because the idea of another man making you smile makes me want to destroy something. Because— "Because you're my wife."

"Your contract wife," she corrected bitterly.

I noticed her reaching for something in the bathroom cabinet. A pill bottle. "What are those?"

"Nothing." She tried to hide them, but I caught a glimpse of the label.

"You've been taking a lot of pills lately."

"They're just vitamins." She clutched the bottle tightly.

"For your new job?" I couldn't keep the sarcasm from my voice.

"Yes, actually. I need to be healthy." She tried to move past me.

I blocked her path. "Tell me about this job."

"Why? So you can try to stop me from taking it?"

"I want to know what you'll be doing."

She laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "Now you're interested in what I do? After three years of treating me like your convenient bedroom arrangement?"

Her words stung more than they should have. "That's not fair."

"No? When's my birthday, Kyle? What's my favorite color? What did I study in college?" Her voice cracked. "You don't know anything about me because you never cared to ask."

"I know enough."

"You know what's in our contract. That's all." She pushed past me. "I need to get ready for bed."

"We're not done talking about this job."

She spun around. "Yes, we are. You made your choice a long time ago, Kyle. You chose Taylor. Now I'm making my choice."

"This isn't about Taylor," I repeated, my voice hard.

"Then why did you spend the last three days with her?"

Because I was angry. Because I needed to prove I didn't care what you did. Because being with her felt wrong now, and I don't understand why. "That's none of your business."

"Exactly." She smiled sadly. "Just like my new job is none of yours."

I watched her walk away, feeling strangely helpless. When had everything become so complicated? This was supposed to be a simple arrangement. A marriage of convenience. Nothing more.

So why did the thought of her working with Jeo Parker make me want to destroy everything he'd built?

My phone buzzed again. Taylor.

For the first time, I didn't want to answer. Instead, I found myself walking to my study, opening my laptop. I typed in the name of the pills I'd seen Mia taking.

Something wasn't right. She was hiding something. And I was going to find out what.

But first, I had another call to make. "Linda? Find out everything you can about art studios. Working hours. Common practices." I paused. "And get me Jeo Parker's complete schedule."

I had a feeling I wouldn't be sleeping much tonight. The thought of Mia in his studio, spending hours alone with him... No. I wouldn't let that happen.

She was my wife. Contract or not, she belonged with me.

His Nonchalance

Mia's POV

Linda entered. "Mrs. Branson called. She wants both of you home for dinner tonight."

My mother-in-law was the only person who treated our marriage as real, who saw me as more than Kyle's convenient arrangement.

Kyle's jaw tightened. "Tell her we're busy."

"I already tried, sir," Linda replied, "She insisted. Said, and I quote, 'Tell my stubborn son that if he doesn't bring my lovely daughter-in-law home for dinner tonight, I'll come to his office myself.'"

"Fine. We'll go." Kyle said.

The drive to the Branson mansion was silent. I watched the familiar neighborhoods pass by, each getting progressively more exclusive until we reached the tree-lined street where Kyle had grown up. The mansion stood proud and elegant, its windows warmly lit against the darkening sky.

Catherine was waiting at the door, her silver hair perfectly styled, her emerald dress matching her eyes.

"Finally!" She exclaimed, "My darlings!"

She embraced me first, holding me tight. Her familiar Chanel No. 5 perfume wrapped around me like a comfort blanket. "Mia, sweetheart," she pulled back, studying my face with motherly concern. "You look pale. Has my workaholic son been keeping you up too late at the office?"

"Mother," Kyle's voice held a warning tone.

"Oh, hush," Catherine waved him off, pulling me toward the house. "Come in, come in. Mrs. Reynolds has outdone herself with dinner tonight."

The mansion's interior hadn't changed since the last time we visited. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the antique furniture and family portraits. Everything spoke of old money, tastefully displayed yet comfortable. Catherine had always managed that delicate balance.

Catherine smiled as the first course was served. A delicate mushroom soup that filled the room with an earthy aroma. "Though I do miss the days when this table was fuller. Remember the Sunday dinners we used to have, Kyle? All your cousins would come..."

"That was a long time ago, Mother," Kyle replied.

Catherine sighed, stirring her soup. "Everything changes, doesn't it? Eva next door just became a grandmother last month. Her daughter had twins." She looked up at us, her eyes twinkling. "Speaking of which, when can I expect grandchildren?"

Kyle's fork clattered against his plate. "Mother—"

"Don't 'mother' me," Catherine cut him off. "You've been married three years. Three years! Do you know how many of my friends are already grandmothers twice over?"

"Work keeps us busy," Kyle said.

"Work!" Catherine's voice dripped. "Always work with you, Kyle. A woman needs more than a busy husband to be happy. She needs to be loved."

The word 'loved' hung in the air like a physical presence.

"The company is going through an important phase," Kyle said stiffly. "We can discuss children later."

Catherine's eyes narrowed. "That's an excuse and you know it. When I was pregnant with you—"

"Mother, we've discussed this," Kyle cut in, his voice sharp. "My priority right now is expanding the company into international markets. Children would be... inconvenient."

Inconvenient. The word hit me like a physical blow. My stomach churned violently as the smell of the food suddenly became overwhelming. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision as waves of nausea washed over me.

"May I be excused?" I interrupted, "I need some air."

Catherine's expression softened immediately. "Of course, dear. Use the garden. The night blooming jasmine is beautiful this time of year."

I wandered through Catherine's immaculate garden, past perfectly trimmed hedges and blooming flowers, until I reached the stone bench by the fountain.

My hand drifted to my stomach. Inconvenient, Kyle had called the idea of children. What would he say when he discovered these babies?

I closed my eyes, remembering all the times I'd sat in this very spot, dreaming of a future where Kyle would look at me the way he looked at Taylor. Where our marriage would be more than just a contract. Now here I sat, carrying his children, while he still saw me as nothing more than a business arrangement. The irony was almost too much to bear.

"I thought I'd find you here."

I turned to see Catherine approaching, a cashmere shawl in her hands. She draped it around my shoulders before sitting beside me.

"You always loved this spot," she said softly. "I remember the first time Kyle brought you home. You spent hours here, sketching the flowers."

"I'm sorry, dear," Catherine continued, taking my hand in hers. "I know my son. I failed him in some ways. After his father died..." she paused, her voice catching. "Kyle threw himself into being perfect. Perfect grades, perfect businessman. He forgot how to feel."

"Catherine, I—"

"Let me finish." Her grip on my hand tightened. "You're good for him, Mia. Better than he deserves. I see how you look at him, how much you love him. "

"Mother." Kyle's voice cut through the darkness. "Stop meddling."

Catherine stood, turning to face her son. "Take care of your wife, son. Before it's too late."

The city lights blurred past us as Kyle drove, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. I gathered my courage, trying to find the right words.

"Kyle," I said softly, "what you said at dinner, about children being inconvenient..."

"What about it?" His voice was cold. "Family is not my thing. You knew this when you signed the contract."

My heart sank. Sure. I shouldn't get this idea in my head. I shifted in my seat, trying to find a more comfortable position, when something rolled against my foot.

Reaching down, my fingers touched smooth metal. I picked it up. A lipstick tube – Dior Rouge, the exact shade I'd seen on Taylor's lips countless times at the office. The gold case gleamed mockingly in my palm, and I could smell her signature perfume lingering on it.

Of course. She'd been in his car. Recently. This wasn't some accident. Taylor never left anything to chance. She'd placed it here deliberately, another cruel reminder that she was the one Kyle truly wanted.

"Pull over," I whispered, fighting back bile.

"What?"

"Pull over!" The words came out more forcefully than I intended. "I need air."

Kyle's jaw clenched as he pulled to the curb. Without a word, I got out, wrapping my arms around myself in the cool night air. The car engine revved once before he drove away, leaving me alone on the sidewalk.

The city lights blurred as tears filled my eyes. How had my life become this? My head spun, whether from pregnancy or emotion, I couldn't tell.

"Mia?"

Through my tears, I saw a familiar face. Jeo stood there, concern etched across his features. Without hesitation, he shrugged off his leather jacket, draping it over my shoulders.

"You're freezing," he said, his hand warm on my arm. "What are you doing out here alone?"

"I'm fine," I tried to say, but the words slurred. The ground seemed to be moving beneath my feet.

"You're not fine." Jeo's voice grew urgent as I swayed. "You need a hospital."

"No, I just need—" My knees buckled.

"Hospital," Jeo decided, catching me before I hit the ground. "Now."