The Billionaire's Wife(35)
For the next few days leading up to the charity event I actually start to get butterflies in my stomach. Every time I think about how I’m going to pull off my “crime of the century” I get nervous. God help me if I’m nervous on the day, I’ll end up spilling drinks all over the place like I did the first time I helped at a Lambert charity event… of course that was when I found out I’d just had sex with a billionaire. No, there’s no more billionaire sex in my future. I have to admit I’ll miss that part of things. I wish I were more like Allison sometimes; more able to detach, able to fuck and run, if I were then Gideon would be the perfect match for me. I contemplate for a moment how well suited Allison and Gideon might be for each other before pushing the thought far out of my mind. The very idea of Gideon sleeping with someone else made me angry, wasn’t that what this was all about anyway? Who was I fooling pretending that I had more morals than he did, I still had sex with him even after I found out he was married didn’t I? No, this wasn’t about morals, this was about jealousy. It was about jealousy and bruised egos. Now it was my turn to bruise his ego a little by throwing his money back in his face but doing it in such a way that he didn’t know I’d done it. Sure, I’m disappointed that I won’t get to see his face when he realizes that I’ve thrown the money back at him, but this is the only way to do it without the money lying around as we battle back and forth about who should take it and why.
I decide to dress up a little for my last job at the Lambert estate, and the day before the event I drag Allison out shopping with me. Together we hit every bargain and clearance rack in town clearing out the best they had to offer as well as my measly checking account. Dress code for the wait-staff at the Lambert affairs was simple, classy, black and white and nothing overly ostentatious. I settled on a black tuxedo sheath dress that had a fitted upper bodice, a modest neckline that covered its plunging cut with a fabric inlay and a hemline that came just above the knee. Paired with a pair of plain black wedge heels to ensure that I could actually walk by the time my work was done, after all this was my grand finale and I sure as hell didn’t want to be remembered hobbling my way out. When I tried the dress on in the store Allison had squealed and jumped up and down and while the reaction wouldn’t be the same, I imagined that the effect the dress would have on Gideon would be similar. Even though I know he won’t be at the event, part of me hopes that he shows up just so he can see me in this perfect dress with these perfect heels. So he can see me being an independent woman without his money in my pocket, without someone else’s husband on my arm.
I play the scenario over in my head a million times over. I imagine Gideon walking in after fate drags him to the door. I imagine the look of awe on his face when he sees me in my tight but perfectly fitted dress. I wonder if he’ll beg me to stay with him, apologize for the way he’s acted. I wonder if he’ll spill his guts to me, telling me just why he needed someone like me, someone who looked just like his wife, to hang on to his arm at every function he went to. I know that the chances of any of this actually happening are slim to none; in fact I have no hope at all of it happening and even if it did I don’t know that I’d accept his apology. How could I trust a man who has been so secretive, who has kept so much from me? How could I trust a man who thought it was perfectly acceptable to slip a $10,000 in to my purse as payment rendered for my services? I wonder if I’d have guts enough to tell him this if he walked in the door tonight. I wonder if he would even listen or if he’d drag me off to the bedroom once again, tearing off my clothes and making love to me. No, I won’t allow it to continue, I can’t allow it to continue, not like this.
Chapter Twenty
When Allison drops me off at the Lambert Estate for the final hurrah she gives me a smile that I’ve seen before. It’s the same smile she wears when she slips on her ass kicking boots for a night of fun at the club.
“Are you sure I can’t come, Missy?”
“No, besides, you’d only wind up in a broom closet with one of the rich old guys.” She feigns hurt, pouting her full pink lips at me.
“Missy! You think so little of me! I’d at least pick a young one.” We both laugh and flipping the visor mirror down I check my ruby red lipstick one more time, running my tongue over my front teeth.
“Just in case” I tell Allison and she nods in approval. Flipping the visor back up I check my purse for the millionth time for the wad of hundred dollar bills still bound tightly in the paper band and tucked in to a paper envelope. “I hope no one decides tonight is the night to steal my purse!”