I hate to be the one to tell you this, please forgive me for not being man enough to tell you to your face but I can’t risk running into that woman you hired again. I know her, but she didn’t recognize me. She tricked my best friend into marrying her when he was very young, she was pregnant and I doubt the child was even his. She is a psychopath and a sex addict.
Later in their marriage my friend had some performance issues in the bedroom. Rachel would sleep with other married men and then brag to him about it as if she was such a wonderful person to do that. She even slept with her daughter’s boyfriend when he lived in her house – at the time he was only 16 and she was already in her 30’s.
She is not a registered massage therapist and she screws people’s husbands on her massage table. She used to brag on and on about how she would have pity sex with ugly men, she would laugh and say she was doing charity work by doing so. She is a fraud, only out for money and to get her hands on other people’s men.
I am so sorry, please forgive me,
Olivia’s hands were shaking uncontrollably as she set the letter down. She felt like she might throw up. Was this letter true? And if not, why would Anthony make it up? Could he be mistaken about her identity? She slowly stood and crossed the room, locked the door, and returned to her desk where she buried her head in her hands. “Think Olivia, think,” she told herself. She had never felt so alone or helpless in her life. Who could she call to talk to? Who could be trusted to be objective?
She found herself reaching for her phone and scrolling through her contacts to W. The deep, steady sound of Marcus’ voice spoke on the other end of the line, “Hello my favorite entrepreneur, are you calling me because you reached another revenue target?” Olivia promptly burst into tears.