"I need you to send these papers to the publishing house in New York quickly, and as soon as you can, you should—" I stop talking. I look up at you and see that you're not paying the slightest attention to me. All your senses are focused on the glass behind me, and I don't have to think too hard to know that you're staring toward your husband's office.

I turn around in my chair and that's when I see what has you so absorbed. Your husband, with another woman sitting on his lap, whispering in her ear. Probably another petty revenge for working for me.

A few weeks ago, you came to my office to apply for the vacant assistant position. This made me hesitate, suspicious. Why would my rival's wife want to be my assistant? Probably to get inside the company and snitch on your husband. But no, your reasons were quite different.

You told me you'd caught your husband with another woman, and to top it all off, in your bed, in your house. You couldn't get revenge by simply leaving with another man, so your plan went further, hitting him where it hurt the most: working for his rival.

So, since I like to screw him over, I hired you, and you're a great assistant, I have no complaints. Besides, my office and your husband's are across from each other, in different buildings, so he always sees when you come in to drop off paperwork and such. It's the perfect revenge, but it seems he likes to play games, too.

"I certainly didn't expect that," I murmured, turning back to you. "At least you know he's pissed off that you're working for me."