“I better not have any,” Keatyn laughs. “Since I’m on baby bump watch.”
“Our love child?” Knox says with a knowing smile. “If only we weren’t such good friends, I’d totally knock you up.”
“Wait until I get pregnant in the movie. That will really start the rumors flying.”
“You get pregnant in the next Trinity movie?” I ask, shocked.
Keatyn covers her mouth. “Shit. No one is supposed to know that. Thank god, I didn’t accidentally say it in front of Miss TieMeUp.”
“Shut up. I told you that in confidence.”
“Told her what in confidence?” Knox asks.
He looks over at Shelby, who is complaining to a waiter because he doesn’t have the right kind of champagne.
“Is she arguing with the waiter about not having cheap champagne?” Keatyn asks, looking perplexed.
“I may have bought something cheap in New York followed by the words, Nothing but the best for you.”
Knox punches my shoulder. “You dog. What about Miss TieMeUp? She likes that kinky shit, huh?”
“I don’t think there’s anything she won’t do. Quite honestly, it scares me a little. But, today, I tied her up with a couple silk scarves. When I was about to start doing her, she called me daddy.”
“What’s with young girls calling us old guys daddy?”
“Speak for yourself. You’re in your thirties, you could be her daddy.”
“It made him go limp,” Keatyn says, grinning.
“Oh, wow, that sucks. Can’t say I’ve ever suffered from that problem,” Knox confides. “Unless I was too drunk. And if that was the case, I didn’t really care much.”
“I’m going to go rescue her from making a fool out of herself,” I say, heading toward the bar.
“Let’s just have whatever they’re serving, Shelby. I’m sure it will be to your liking.”
She pouts but then says, “Fine.”
Once she has a champagne flute in her hand, she quickly chugs it, then leads me back to the coat closet, where she gets on her knees and tells me just how sorry she is about this afternoon.
With her lips.
And, damn, if I don’t enjoy it.
Friday, September 26th
Collin & Ariela’s residence - Connecticut
ARIELA
“We have drinks with the Pattersons at five. Don't be late this time,” my husband tells me before he leaves for work.
“Collin, I have an appointment with a new client at three-thirty. I'll do my best.”
He grabs my arm as I walk past him. “Quit. You don't need to work.”
“I like my job.”
“Do you know how embarrassing it is to have a wife who works? It makes me look like I'm not successful enough. You should be having lunch, volunteering, and taking care of our kids.”
“We don't have kids,” I reply with a sigh. This is not the first time we’ve had this conversation.
“Kind of hard to have kids when your wife is frigid.”
“Kind of hard to be attracted to your husband when he's sleeping with his secretary,” I say under my breath.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me. I know. About all of them.”
He pushes me against the wall and pins my arms, his face turning red with anger.
“Don't you fucking say that. I love you,” he says, forcing his lips against mine.
I want to throw up.
I push him away. “Stop it.”
“You better get your shit together, Ariela. Your dad wants us at their country house next weekend with a bunch of clients. And their wives.”
“You're going to be late for work,” I say, changing the subject and knowing that will get him out of the house. If Collin is nothing else, he is punctual.
“You better be on time,” he threatens. “You don't want to piss me off.”
“I will be,” I say softly. He's right. I don't want to piss him off. It’s easier to do what he wants. Go through the motions.
He smiles, kisses my cheek sweetly, grabs his briefcase, and walks out the door.
As soon as I hear the garage door shut, I slide to the floor and cry.
How did my life come to this?
The sad thing is, I know the answer.
Because I let it.
I stop crying and pull myself together, getting up and taking a quick peek in the hall mirror to check my makeup. The girl staring back at me is almost a stranger.
My eyes have lost their zest for life. My hair is pulled back into a bun because Collin says it makes me look more proper. My shoulder bones are sticking out because I don't care if I eat.
Food has lost its taste.
No, life has lost its taste.
I grab my handbag off the counter. Today's choice is a classic Chanel bag. Collin bought it for me. I was excited when I unwrapped it, thinking how sweet it was that he bought it for no reason. But, later, I overheard him telling my dad he got it because someone else's wife had one.
He'd already bought himself a Mercedes, an expensive watch, and a summer home in Palm Beach. This bag was just another way to show his status.
And, to Collin, a perfect wife who doesn’t work is just another status symbol.