Spilled Champagne

A text taken out off its context is a pretext and a pretext is a fallacy. What does that mean? I don't know, I'm a millionaire's wife not some English major. Leave that to the drama geeks. I have real problems to worry about.

If I'm being honest, I'm not a millionaire's wife exactly. Or in any legal definition, I'm just the woman that he sleeps with. So now here I am being held in a luxurious suite in one of the finest hotels in the world. Well I suppose being held isn't exactly truthful either. Instead of meeting him for dinner and his usual XXX throw down, I decided to send a fake ransom note to him and check into this swanky pad for the weekend. You know typical lover stuff.

The champagne tickled my throat as it makes its way into my blood stream. A bubble bath was running, the steam beckoned for me to climb into the tub. Miles would wire me the money and then I would be free from this wonderful Hell. Not that soon, I wasn't planning on repaying him 'saving' me until I was fully pampered. Making love to him was only slightly better than walking past that Gucci purse you want but can't afford. And really, it's only because he could give me the money to buy the purse. Even if he pretended not to notice all of the hints that I dropped.

Someone knocked on the door four times. Nobody knew where I was, the whole point of a fake kidnapping is for people to not know.

The towel hung low on my breasts, which were bought and paid for by Miles. When we made love, he liked it when I pretended to smother him with them. Like a kid in a candy store. He wasn't the only man who was going to enjoy them, I hoped that there was a hottie on the other side wanting me. It wasn't.

"Well hello there, Candi." Meredith said as she swept into my room. I went to protest but saw that she was packing heat. Why hadn't I thought about bringing a gun with me? Damn, this fool was going to foil my perfect plan to get some extra cash and to eventually stop sleeping with her husband. "Let's not bother with any more pleasantries, I'd rather just kill you and dispose of your body."

"Well see being murdered was exactly on my agenda today. Maybe we can try again for another day." How had my perfect plan gone so wrong? It didn't make any sense to me. Or maybe the champagne was clouding my judgement. Another glass seemed like a good idea, so I went over and poured a glass. "Would you like some?"

"No." She lifted the gun and fired off a shot. The bullet shattered the glass and got lodged in the wall. "Ever since I hired you to sleep with my husband, you have been a pain in my neck. Now I have to get rid of you."

"Three things: You spilled my champagne, bitch! I did everything that you asked me to, and murder is against the law."

"I didn't ask you to get a boob job that my husband paid for, I didn't ask you to jet off with him to Paris and have a pregnancy scare. And finally, I did not ask you to try and con my husband out of two million dollars."

She raised her gun and squeezed the trigger again. Something in my brain forced my body to drop to the ground. Meredith was set on killing me and I wasn't a cop to negotiate my way out of this. Maybe pretending to be kidnapped wasn't such a good idea after all. Who knew that a scheme like that would blow up in my face?

I crawled over to the door, and lost my towel somewhere along the way. It didn't matter, I stood up and ran down the hall. Meredith was behind me, yelling: "Just come back here and let me kill you. God, why do all the mistresses run from me?"

Mothers covered their children's eyes and fathers seemed to be rooted in place, eyes on me, when I ran through the hotel and crashed into the pool area. Meredith hit me on the back of my head, I lost my balance and fell into the pool.

Meredith soon joined me. She grabbed my hair, pushed my head back underwater. It was a struggle for me to breath, so I fought to resurface. But this woman was freakishly strong, like Superman but less attractive and Meredith didn't wear glasses. I punched her in the stomach., she let go of my hair.

"I should have just blown the place up like I planned. But no, I had to go and see you. Why am I so personable?"

"It was great to see you!" I enthused to my former friend and current assailant. "All but the whole you trying to kill me thing."

"One sec." She glanced at her phone and didn't seem to like what she saw. "I have to go. Miles is on his way home, and I need to make sure dinner is on the table for my man."

"See you soon!"

"It's over between you and Miles or next time, I finish the job."

Getting back to my room proved to be easier than I expected. When I walked in, every shook. It felt like an earthquake but there was no way it could be, it didn't make any sense. This was followed by a loud boom. I was tossed from the decimated building and landed in the parking lot. Flaming bricks landed on and near me.

That bitch had planted a bomb, I knew it didn't make sense that she was worried about dinner. One day I would get my revenge for her trying to blow me up, and for spilling my champagne. One day.