Keep Calm and Kill Your Wife by Lucky Stevens Read Free Book Online

would be so much easier to call you Mr. Day,” she said, her head dropping a little like a puppy dog. “I call all the other partners Mister. They seem to expect it.”
    “Well, I hope I’m not like all the other partners.”
    “No, you’re not.” She held her gaze.
    “Listen, I shouldn’t bother you with this, but...”
    “I’m sure it’s fine. What is it?”
    “Well I was just thinking I should get your cell phone number just in case I can’t find something here at work. I mean, you’re so organized. But forget it. I don’t want to bother you on vacation. Forget I brought it up.”
    “It’s alright, Bob. It’s no big deal.” I’m sure my number’s in my files , she thought, but really didn’t mind giving it to him. Besides, she felt he might be embarrassed if she mentioned the files. So she jotted her number down and handed it to him.
    “Thanks.” He took out a business card from his jacket pocket. “Let me just jot down my cell number.”
    “Sure,” she said, but they were both wondering the same thing. Why—or what was the pretense for why— would she need his cell phone number?
    He handed her the card. “Here you go. Hey you never know. Let’s say you’re about to eat some ivy up there and you want to know if it’s poisonous or not, give me a call. I was an eagle scout.”
    A few forced jokes later, about ivy being off her menu since the third grade and how forests were teeming with legal briefs these days, and Bob was walking back to his office. His head was held high, but his chin felt like it was dragging on the ground as he rolled his eyes and cursed himself.
    She, on the other hand, was smiling. Adorable. If I wasn’t so happily married...

TEN
    H ART PACKED HIS BAG like a cartoon character might. One quickly-built giant pile of clothes on the bed was just as quickly bear-hugged and deposited into his only suitcase. Heavily scuffed, his imitation leather-gilded bag had been through the wringer. After stuffing anything back in that happened to be sticking out, he closed the suitcase and fastened the latch. Then he grabbed it, as well as one good-sized semi-filled backpack, and loaded them into his Acura TSX. Summer’s Santa Fe would have made a lot more sense but Hart hated that car and didn’t think it was reliable, even though it had never given Summer a bit of trouble.
    “Are you ready?” he bellowed as he re-entered the house, knowing damn well she wasn’t.
    “Almost.” Unlike Hart, Summer was very meticulous about her packing. Anything that could potentially spill or leak, like hand cream or shampoo, was deposited individually in a plastic bag before being laid in her suitcase. Her shoes were turned sole to sole and also placed in a plastic bag so they would not touch her clean clothes. And unlike her husband, she rarely forgot anything when packing.
_______________
    Interstate 5 seemed to be wide open. A real relief to Hart who was so sick and tired of driving everyday on his job that he could just scream—and often did.
    “You okay with the Eagles?” he asked, tuning around the dial and pausing at the song, “Take it Easy.”
    “Sure,” Summer said. She smiled to herself. She didn’t know if it was her impending pregnancy or what, but Hart had been so nice to her lately that she beamed inside. She loved the little touches. The hand-holding. Asking her if she was okay with his music in the car. Things that he had neglected to do for years.
    “Thanks again, Hart, for not minding about me taking a day to go flying. I know we’re trying to spend time together.”
    “No problem. This is your vacation, too. I want it to be memorable.” He smiled at her and she took his hand. Besides, while you’re away flying, I’ll have time to sabotage the bridge. He squeezed her hand.
    It also flashed in his mind that she might die while flying. It was pretty remote but there was always the chance. It would sure make things easier, but it might not be such a good thing. He’d