Living the Good Life

She admired her outfit in the full length mirror inside her closet. She had chosen an outfit she picked up at Saks last week. A blush coloured sequined skirt and a billowy blouson top with matching details at the shoulders and neckline. Her hair was pulled into a braided side bun, and the bits of unruly waves that refused to be forced into a style hung romantically around her face. As she slipped on her favourite nude Jimmy Choos and reached for her clutch, Dennis walked into the closet. He looked at her. “Oh no. There are going to be investors there, you can’t go like that. You look like you’re going to dance on tables all night. You’ll have to change.” He picked up his suit jacket off the back of her dressing chair, “The car is downstairs, hurry up or we’ll be late.” and walked out.

She hadn’t even tried to argue with him. She knew it was pointless. She’d never win, and if they were late he would get even more upset. She had grown accustomed to the way he treated her when they were on their way to a business event. Or any event for that matter. She was expected to dress and behave in a manner flattering to him, and at all times let him be the focus of people’s attention. Most women wouldn’t understand that things like this came with the lifestyle, but then again, most of those women weren’t living this lifestyle for that reason.

She went back to her closet and chose a navy sheath dress with pearl buttons at the nape of her neck. She kept her shoes on but switched her metallic clutch for a much more neutral cream one.
Downstairs, her best friend and assistant Max was pacing the foyer trying to pretend he was interested in the millwork that he had been staring at every day for the last 5 years. He looked up as she came down the stairs.
“Oh thank heavens,” he breathed “he’s in an awful mood. Good luck tonight okay? Text me if you need anything.” He ushered her out the front doors and closed them behind her.

Dennis let out his pent up breath as he saw his wife coming towards the car. He needed everything to go perfectly tonight. His bank account depended on it. He noted that she looked much better than earlier, her dark dress was much more appropriate for the evening. The driver opened the door for her and helped her into the town car. As she slid in beside him, Dennis couldn’t help but notice how tired she looked. Old even. He knew it was horrible of him to think of his wife in this way, but he couldn’t deny that life had taken a toll on her looks. When they first met, Danielle was young and vibrant. Her eyes had so much life in them, her skin glowed, and her breasts were as perky as they should have been for a girl in her early twenties. Now he could see the lines that stress had left at the outer corners of her mouth, her eyes. He had offered her Botox, and she had tried it once. She didn’t like it, said she didn’t feel ‘authentic’. What did that even mean anyway?
He looked out his window and let his mind wander. He couldn’t help himself when it settled on Mandy. She had been his assistant for almost a year now, and he hadn’t hired her for her experience. She was 5’6’’, Dutch, with blonde hair down to her tiny waist. She had blue eyes and pink lips and he was happy to go to work each morning simply to see her tight ass strut around his office. He assumed Danielle would have figured out what was going on much earlier. He wasn’t very good with sneaking around, and she had to have known. She made him confess it though, acted like she had no idea. It almost broke his heart a little. Almost. Truth was, he had felt the same way about Danielle only seven years ago. It felt like a lifetime now, but he had been crazy about her back then.