–Unknown: I’m pregnant!
I raise both my eyebrows.Wow. Talk about drama.Now I sort of want her to keep going.
–Unknown: I’m not the mistress here! You are!
Oh, cheater drama! Guess I should stop her, since she should verbally beat up the guilty party, not me.
–Me: You have the wrong number. You should check so you can vent your ire on the right person.
Two seconds pass before another text pops up. But instead of an apology, it’s a big middle finger emoji.
–Unknown: Don’t play dumb. You think you won because you’re in Ares’s house?
I frown, then go up to the earlier texts. Is she implying Ares is involved in some kind of bigamy?I’m not the mistress here! You are!sounds like that’s what she’s saying, but Ares is a lawyer. Wouldn’t he know that’s illegal?
Even if he, for some unfathomable reason, doesn’t care about the legality because he just wants to get promoted,Icare. I can’t have any doubt cast upon the reality of my marriage.
But in case she’s dangerous, I stop by the kitchen to grab a sizable frying pan, then experimentally swing it a few times.Perfect.
I head out and see a skinny blonde in a dark burgundy mini-dress standing by the gates. Her arms are crossed, pushing enormous breasts up to create canyon-like cleavage. A pair of huge white wedge shoes elongate her toned and tanned legs. Actually, everything about her is toned and tanned. Her stomach is flat—so if she really is pregnant, it’s still early.
She glares at me, her blue eyes flashing with anger and resentment. The shade is very similar to Ares’s, but the emotions in them are ugly.
“Oh my God, you aren’t even that good looking.” Something about her face is weird as she speaks. She looks me up and down. “Are you his maid?”
“No.” I flip her the bird with my left hand.
She turns red, and her face muscles twitch awkwardly.
I smile blandly. “Oops, wrong finger.” I show her my ring finger. “Here.”
“Did you grab it off eBay?” she sneers, then sniffs.
“No. Peery Diamonds. Perhaps you’ve heard of it. It’s an exclusive brand.”
“Oh, so you think you’re all that just because you got yourself a hot sugar daddy?” She fumes. Or, at least, that’s what Ithinkshe’s doing. It’s hard to tell with her face being so stiff. Then it finally hits me: she’s recently had Botox. Doris was like this too when she sought to preserve what remained of her youth and beauty with my money.
“Areyouupset youlosta sugar daddy?” I ask. I canalmostsympathize with her plight now that her meal ticket is gone. She’s able-bodied, so why doesn’t she get a job?
“Pfft. I’m rich! I don’t need his money.”
“Well, congratulations. Now you don’t have to worry about not having Ares around.”
She puts a well-manicured hand over her belly. “I’mpregnant!”
“Tell that to the father. There’s nothing I can do for you or the baby. I’m not an OB-GYN.” Then I tilt my head. “By the way, what’s your name? I wanna see if my husband ever mentioned you.”
Vindictiveness gleams in her eyes. “Soledad.”
I feign consideration, then shake my head ruefully. “Never heard of you.”
She turns red. “You bitch!”
“Look, Soledad, if you were really somebody Ares was in love with and you were carrying his baby, you wouldn’t be here. You’d be in his arms, pampered and protected. So, why don’t you go stir up trouble elsewhere? Better yet—go home,stayhome, and let the rest of the world enjoy some peace and quiet.”
“Do you think you’re clever because you can say shit about me on the other side of these gates? Look, loser. You aren’t that special. You’re naturally blonde, right? Yeah, thought so. And your eyes—they aren’t fake either.”
I frown. “What are you trying to get at?”
