When a charming stranger knocked on the door, mistaking me for the cleaning lady, I decided to play along. But what started out as a funny misunderstanding quickly turned into a surprising revelation.
The smell of lemon cleaner hung in the air as I scrubbed the kitchen worktops. The faint hum of the dishwasher filled the silent house.
Cleaning wasn’t my favorite activity, but it kept my hands busy and my mind clear. I had just thrown the sponge into the sink when the doorbell rang.
I opened the door to find a tall, clean-shaven man standing there with a smile that could have come straight out of a toothpaste ad. He was carrying a leather briefcase in one hand and an elegant phone in the other.
“Hello!” he said cheerfully. ”I’m looking for Mr. Lambert. You must be the cleaning lady. Liliya, right?” He took a step forward, extending his hand. ‘I’m his partner, David. Nice to meet you.’
Before I could correct him, he glanced at his watch and added, ‘I’ve heard a lot about you from Mrs. Lambert. She showed me your picture.’
My heart skipped a beat. ‘Mrs. Lambert?’ I asked, trying hard to keep my voice steady.
“Yes! She and Greg always make a great team,“ he said with a laugh.
Mrs. Lambert? Then who am I supposed to be? The cleaning lady? I was curious. If he thought I was someone else, I’d play along.
“Please come in, sir,” I said with a little bow, trying not to laugh at the absurdity. “So, have you known Mr. and Mrs. Lambert for a long time?“
“Oh, years,” said David, settling down on the sofa. “They’re quite a couple. They always seem so happy together.”
I forced a polite smile. My pulse quickened as I picked up a glass of water, as I needed an excuse to leave the room for a moment. Who is this Mrs. Lambert he’s talking about?
Back in the living room, I found David flipping through his phone. He looked up. “You know, I have a photo of them. Let me show you.”
He handed me his cell phone and my stomach knotted. There, smiling, was my sister Allison on Greg’s arm.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” David said.
I struggled to keep my composure. “When exactly was this photo taken?” I asked, my voice tense.
David didn’t notice. “About a year ago, at a company event. It’s funny, Greg never talked much about his private life. For a long time I thought he was single. Then I met them on the street and he introduced her as his wife.”
I swallowed hard and handed the phone back to him. My ears were ringing, but David kept talking.
“They’re a lovely couple,” he said. ‘Oh, and he once showed me a photo of you. I asked him, ’Who is this beautiful woman?‘, and he said, ’Oh, she’s our cleaning lady’.”
My hands gripped the glass I was holding. The cleaning lady? Is this a joke?
I put the glass down on the floor and forced a smile. “You must have lots of photos of them together.”
“Of course I do! Here’s another one from the same event.” My head was spinning. David looked at me worriedly. “Liliya, are you all right?”
I took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I’m fine, sir. Would you like a coffee while you wait for Mr. Lambert?”
David smiled, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. ”That would be great. Thank you.”
I went back to the kitchen. Mrs. Lambert? My sister? What exactly is going on here?
I returned to the living room, my heart racing but my face calm. David was sitting awkwardly on the sofa, stirring the coffee I had given him. He looked up and gave me a polite smile.
“David,” I began, in a calm but firm voice, ‘we need to talk.”
His smile faltered. ’Sure. About what?”
I pointed to the photo in the silver frame on the mantelpiece. “Do me a favor. Take a closer look at that photo.”
He hesitated and picked up the frame. His eyebrows furrowed as he studied it. ‘This… is you,’ he said slowly, his voice confused.
“That’s right,” I said. “And the man next to me? That’s my husband. Greg Lambert.”
David blinked and gripped the frame tightly. “Wait. What are you saying?”
I clasped my hands in my lap and leaned forward. ”I’m not the cleaning lady, David. I’m Mrs. Lambert. The real Mrs. Lambert.”
His face paled. He returned the photo to the mantelpiece as if it had burned him. “I don’t understand. I thought that…” He stopped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“You thought that my sister, Allison, was Mrs. Lambert,” I finished for him.
He nodded, still trying to process it. “He told me… Greg introduced her as his wife. He even showed me photos of the two of them together. I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.”
I let the silence fall for a moment, watching him squirm. Finally, I asked him, ”David, why did you come here today?”
He hesitated and sighed. “I’ve come to convince Greg to sell me his share of the business. But… it’s complicated.”
“Complicated why?”
“Well, the share isn’t technically in Greg’s name,” David admitted, looking at me nervously. “It’s in Mrs. Lambert’s name. In your name.”
“And my sister forged my signature to block the sale?” I asked, sharply.
David’s eyes widened. ‘I… I didn’t know it had been forged, but yes, she stopped the sale. I thought it was her decision.”
I laughed bitterly, hiding my anger. ’It wasn’t. But thanks for confirming what I suspected.”
David seemed to want to crawl under the coffee table. “I feel really bad about this. I didn’t mean to get you into anything. If I had known…”
“It’s okay,” I interrupted, although my voice was steely. “It’s not your fault. But since you’re here, let’s close the deal. How much are you offering for Greg’s share?”
David blinked, surprised by my sudden change of tone. “Uh, the original offer was quite considerable, but I’m willing to go higher if it means resolving this quickly.” He named a figure that made my head spin.
I kept a neutral face, although my mind was racing. “That’s acceptable. I’ll take care of the paperwork. Can you have your legal team send the documents by tomorrow?”
“Yes, of course,” said David, nodding enthusiastically. “Thank you, Ms. Lambert. I mean…”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said with a slight smile. “Let’s get this over with.”
The following evening, Greg burst through the front door, closing it behind him. His face was red with anger, his tie was undone and his jacket was slung over his arm.
“What the hell have you done?” he shouted.
I was sitting on the sofa, reading a book. I barely looked up. ”Hi, Greg. Long day?”
“Don’t play games with me!” he shouted, throwing his jacket on a chair. ‘You’ve sold my share of the business! Do you even realize what you’ve done?”
I closed the book and put it on the coffee table. ’I know exactly what I’ve done, Greg. I’ve solved your little problem.”
“My own problem?” he shouted, his face growing redder. ‘You had no right to sell that share! It’s my company, my future.”
I stood up, facing him. ’Wrong. The share was in my name. And after what I found out, I decided it was time to take control.”
Greg’s bravado faltered. ”What… what are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Allison,” I said, my voice cold. ‘Your little ’wife’. Or did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
Greg was frozen, his mouth slightly open. ‘Listen, I can explain…”
“No,’ I interrupted. ”I’m done listening to your excuses. I’ve already spoken to a lawyer. And in case you’re wondering, yes, I’m going to file for divorce.”
Greg’s jaw dropped. “Divorce? Are you serious?”
“As serious as I ever get,” I said, my voice calm but firm. “And since you and Allison forged my signature, I’m entitled to compensation. The sale is already finalized. David will transfer the funds to my account by the end of the week.”
Greg staggered backwards, slumping into a chair. “You… you can’t do this. You’re ruining me.”
I folded my arms, staring at him. ”No, Greg. You’ve ruined yourself.”
Two weeks later, I left my lawyer’s office with a signed divorce agreement in my hand and a new sense of freedom. The agreement was more than generous.
Not only did I secure my rightful share of the sale of Greg’s business, but I also received significant compensation for the fraud committed in my name. Justice had been done.
I cut ties with both Greg and Allison. My lawyer made sure the fraud never went to court, but the legal threat was enough to bring down his carefully constructed web of lies. Greg lost his business and, as far as I knew, his relationship with Allison did not survive the fallout.
For days, I replayed the betrayal in my mind, feeling a mixture of anger and sadness. But as time passed, the anger gave way to clarity. They had taken my trust for granted, but their deception had shown me a strength I didn’t know I had.
Standing in the living room, I looked at the place where Greg’s photo used to be. It was no longer there, replaced by a simple vase of fresh flowers. I smiled.
It wasn’t the end of my story. It was a new beginning. And this time I would write it my way.