A perfect time for a date. Dinner and drinks.
She taps him on the shoulder. He half-turns, shock registering on his face. “Stella?” He says it like a question.
“Hi Grant.” She gives him a wicked smile. “How are you?”
“I’m good, what um…what’re you doing here?” He looks puzzled. “Is something wrong?” He gives her a once over, checking to make sure she has all of her limbs.
“Yes, very.” Stella remarks as the blonde woman stares at her with morbid curiosity. Jabbing a finger towards the woman, she jeers, “Who’s this?”
Grant gives her a death stare, shaking his head in silent warning at her. She doesn’t heed it.
“I asked you a question, Grant. Who the F is this?”
“My name is Maggie.” The woman reaches out a hand with no wedding ring, “and you are?”
Stella ignores her question. “Maggie, how charming. Did you know the man you’re out with is married?”
“Excuse me?”
Grant starts to interrupt, but Stella holds a hand up. “Must be nice to leave work early and go shopping for your whore.”
“Wait, what?” The woman’s mouth drops open in disgust, revealing the whitest teeth Stella’s ever seen. Definitely a professional bleach job.
Turning to Grant, Maggie hisses. “What’s going on right now? This is so unprofessional.”
Stella gasps, “Wait, you’re a … you’re a hooker?”
In another life, the matching expressions on both of their faces would be enough to make anyone laugh, both have a set jaw and slits for eyes, their crossed arms defiantly squared towards her.
“I mean an escort, is that a better term?”
“The audacity….” Maggie shifts from one heel to the other.
Stepping away from the hostess stand and the guests that are staring at them with interest, she whispers, “Grant, I’m going to leave. I don’t know what this is … but it’s not going to happen with you and me. I’ll take my services elsewhere. Clearly your reputation is sorely lacking if I have to be addressed in public like this. I’m not going down with this sinking ship.”
Turning to Stella, she continues, “I assume you’re his wife, and I have no knowledge of your relationship, but to accost him and a female colleague at a business dinner should be beneath you. I’ll make sure to let everyone know the type of caliber of people you both are.” Sliding her Gucci sunglasses down from her head, she covers her incensed blue eyes with the shades, stalking out of the restaurant.
Grant just stares after her open-mouthed. Saying nothing, he follows suit, but instead of following Maggie, he goes in the opposite direction, back towards his vehicle.
Stella indignantly follows, rushing to keep up with him. Shrieking, she demands, “Grant, aren’t we going to talk?”
He ignores her, keeping his head down.
Catching up to him, she reaches for his elbow but he shakes her off. Dripping acid, he seethes, “Don’t you dare touch me, Stella.”
“What, why?” she fumes, “because you got caught?”
Stopping abruptly, he turns to her. “Is that what you think you did, caught me in a lie?” Throwing his hands up in the air, his eyes are narrowed slits. “You just fucked up everything. I hope you’re happy.”
“Me?” Pounding her chest with a finger, she sneers, “I messed things up?”
“I can’t talk to you right now or I’m going to lose it.” Grant shakes his head in contempt. “And you know what, you’d deserve every bit of it.” He shoves the forgotten bag at her as she stumbles backward in surprise. “Here’s your gift. Congrats.”
Tears are flooding down her cheeks, but Grant refuses to meet her eyes. “I’m not coming home tonight.”
“What? No, you can't do...”
“Yes, I can do that.”
“We agreed we would never let an argument spiral out of control.”
His gaze is fixated on the toe of his dress shoes. “This is different.”
“Why,” Stella spits, “because now you have another excuse to spend the night with your mistress?”
“You have gone off the rails. Is that what you really think Maggie is, some high-priced call girl?”
Stella shrugs. “You tell me.”
“She’s a client,” he corrects himself, “or was a potential client until today.” He drills Stella with his eyes, his angry stare now penetrating her, holding her in place. “You realize you just lost me one of our biggest accounts? And cost me my reputation. And now you look like a crazy bitch.”
“Client?”
“I’d tell you her full name so you could look her up, but you’ve turned into a fucking psycho.”
Stella can only murmur, “Don’t call me crazy.”
“Then what are you doing showing up to my business meetings?” He runs a hand through his hair. Usually expertly styled with gel and molding paste, it stands on edge. “Christ, Stella, what’s wrong with you? Do we need to get you back to your psych doctor?”
“Why do you always go there?” Stella sags against the light pole she’s standing next to. “You always take my past and use it against me.”
“I’m not using anything against you. I’m merely asking you if you need help since from the events of today, it seems apparent you are not okay.”
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you...” Stella finishes lamely, “and couldn’t.”
“That’s not a reason.” Grant sighs. “I was working. When you can't reach me, it’s typically because I am working.” Punching the air with quotation marks, he says, “You’ve never just ‘showed up’ or followed me.”
“Why didn’t your office know?”
He rubs a hand over his face, like she will disappear from his line of sight if he scours hard enough. Vitriol laces every word. “Because she’s secretly shopping for a new agent. She couldn’t risk it getting out, so I promised her a confidential meeting away from our office.”
Stella looks down at the shopping bag. “Then why would you show up with lingerie?”
“Seriously, Stella?” He thrusts his chin at the offending bag. “It’s your size and a present for you. If you don’t believe me, look at the tags. Better yet, go return it, since you just damaged my reputation permanently with your actions.” They glare at each other in silence for a moment. He continues. “Might as well put the house on the market since you’ve royally screwed us.” He eyes her haughtily. “Maybe now I’ll have to sleep with my clients.”
She winces in hurt, twisting her hands around the metal that’s holding her up. “That was uncalled for.”
He inhales. “Look Stella, I’m getting more and more concerned about you. These outbursts you keep having. These baseless accusations. I’ve given you no reason to worry and yet you seem to pick at everything.”
“I’ve had a lot more questions than answers lately,” she whispers. “If it’s not for her, why would you have it if you were going to a meeting? That screams unprofessional.”
“Unprofessional?” He spits out his words. “You want to talk about professionalism? You have some nerve.”
She stares at him, a fresh batch of tears running down her cheeks.
“I didn’t take her to the store to buy you lingerie, nor did I bring her a gift of a sexy one-piece. I had a meeting with her and the store’s here. I intended to shop and put it in my wagon, except she called and asked if I could meet earlier since she had a conflict this afternoon. She was persistent that we meet ASAP, and I didn’t have time to run back and put it in the vehicle.” Grant considers her as she swallows, wiping a combination of salt and snot from her face.
Stella opens her mouth, but Grant interrupts. “I’m going to go to the gym,” Grant remarks, “but I’m serious about not coming home tonight. Don’t wait up.”
“Grant…”
“Stella," his voice sounds weird, as if he's being strangled. “I can’t be around you right now. I’m too angry and confused. I need some space.”
“Can�
�t you do it in the comfort of our house?”
“No. Because it’s confining right now. And you’re confining.”
“I don’t like you staying somewhere else.”
“Tough.”
She offers, “What if I go stay at Lucy’s?”
“No. I’ll go get a hotel room.”
“But...”
“But nothing Stella, it doesn’t matter where I go or what I do, you clearly don’t trust me.” Sadness tinges his voice. “I know you’re stressed about your business. I get that. You have a lot riding on your shoulders right now.” He frowns. “But you need to think long and hard if these emotional meltdowns are worth it, and if it’s worth the cost of our marriage.”
She's incredulous. “Are you threatening me?”
“It’s not a threat Stella, it’s a reality.” Grant glowers. “I can’t live like this, you watching my every move, making sure you’re secure in our marriage when I’ve never done anything to provoke you. It’s like you want me to admit to something I haven’t done.”
At this moment, she feels like her heart’s being ripped from her chest, the way it pounds like the footsteps of shoppers on the sidewalk. Sinking into the nearest bench, she rests her head in her hands, surprised to see it hasn’t fallen to the concrete in misery.
Grant shifts from one foot to the other, silent, as he gives her the once over. Shaking his head in agony, he walks off, crossing the street, his hands jammed in his pockets. Stella stares at his back, watching him until he disappears around a corner.
How could I be so wrong? She asks herself over and over, hyperventilating as she moves her head farther between her knees. She stays in that position, a mixture of deep breaths, sobs, and hiccups.
She tries to focus on breathing, just like one of her doctors taught her years ago.
After a couple of minutes, she sits up straight, gripping the edge of the bench, getting her bearings. Hesitant, she stands, afraid she will topple over if she breaks contact with the cold metal.
23
Stella
Her phone buzzes as she’s walking to her vehicle. Pulling it out of her purse, she’s hopeful it’s Grant.
Crestfallen, it’s not.
It’s Lucy.
She answers with, “I’m having a bad day.”
“What’s wrong?” Lucy’s incredulous. “Are you crying?”
“I caught Grant cheating…” Stella hears an audible gasp. “Or let me rephrase, I thought I caught him.”
“How do you catch someone and then don't?” Lucy wonders. “It’s usually pretty clear. Like when I caught my husband.”
“He wasn’t at work, or home, and I went to one of his usual hang out spots and watched him walk to a restaurant with another woman, carrying a lingerie sack.”
“You followed him?”
“Not really, I couldn’t, because I didn’t know where he was and he wasn’t answering.” Stella explains, “I just had an idea of what area he would be in.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Apparently so. That’s what he thinks.”
“Who was the woman?”
“A business partner.”
“Stella, this isn’t like you…” Lucy’s voice softens. “Do you need to talk to your therapist?”
“Geez, he said the same thing. What’re you, Team Grant?”
“No,” Lucy pauses, hesitating before saying, “I’m always on yours, but this isn't about picking sides.”
There’s a lull as Stella slides into her vehicle, shoving the bag under the seat. She starts her vehicle, waiting for her Bluetooth to pick up before she continues. “I don't like what I saw or how I've been feeling lately.”
“Do you have reason to believe he’s cheating?” Lucy asks.
“I think I’ve found more than enough. He’s seemed off lately, and his interests have been very image-focused, which is weird for him.”
“Have you thought about the fact he might feel insecure next to you?”
“What do you mean?”
Sighing, Lucy points out, “Stel, you’ve always been the pretty one. He’s been successful, but so have you, and now with all the exciting news with your biz, maybe he's starting to feel like he needs to step up his game.”
“But I’ve never made him feel less than my equal.”
“Yes, but your star power is starting to potentially outshine him. Maybe he feels threatened.”
“Then why do I feel like something else is wrong in my marriage?”
“Because you can't let your personal and professional life both be in a positive light. You have to be convinced that one is falling apart.”
Stella groans, “I don’t know about that...”
“You went looking for your husband convinced he was cheating.”
“What would you think if Adam walked by you with a beautiful woman, lingerie from an expensive store in hand?”
Lucy doesn't immediately reply, and Stella think she’s been hung up on.
“Hello?”
There’s a sharp intake of breath as Lucy exhales. “Fair point, it doesn’t look good, but what was their body language like, were they being affectionate? Holding hands? Walking close?”
“They weren’t making out, no.” Stella feels stupid. “But they were walking close together.”
“So it caused discomfort.”
“Yes.”
“It’s hard having a husband that meets women all the time, and has to see them in public places.”
“Did he need to meet her in public?” Lucy questions. “Why not at his own office?”
“Supposedly because it was a secret.”
Lucy balks, then moans, “I think you are right to be concerned. He should let you know he’s meeting in a public place one-on-one out of respect for you. If you hadn't shown up and just run into him, it would've been an awkward encounter anyway.”
“Exactly.”
“But Stel, let me remind you...”
“Why must you always feel the need to bring this up?”
“Because you haven't been entirely innocent in your marriage. Are you sure you're not just manifesting this since you've had your own slip?”
“Sorry Lucy, going to lose you. Dead spot.” With that, she disconnects her phone, unable to continue the conversation.
Gripping the steering wheel, she heads back to Malibu, back to her safety net.
24
Stella
Stella tosses and turns. Her phone calls earlier to Grant have gone unanswered. In fact, she must be on do not disturb because voicemail automatically picks up.
Her emotions have been a maelstrom, they’ve shifted from agitation to acceptance and back again. Earlier in the tub she went from angry tears to wailing, then her mood shifted to one of a ‘fuck you’ sentiment, then one of pity.
Now in bed, she kicks the covers off in frustration. Drinking chamomile tea on the patio before lying down didn’t help. The darkness is spread out before her, the churn of the water in the distance.
Standing, she steps into a long wool sweater that’s more like an overcoat, belting it over her sheer nightie. She slides into a pair of flip-flops and heads down to the sand, wanting to take a walk and try and clear her head.
What Lucy said is accurate, and she’d been sworn to secrecy a few years ago. In fact, had she not caught her in the middle of a lie, she wouldn’t even have confided in her, or been forced to own up to her own indiscretion.
It was over a year ago, and Stella had been working her ass off, trying to get her business in a more financially solid state. She’d had a lot of the capital saved, and Grant had been invaluable in making sure she didn’t have to stress about money.
She had decided to consult with a financial advisor and business coach, who came highly recommended and was also a friend.
When she walked into his office, it was low-key and friendly, the way they had always been. Respectful would be the right word, and all business.
Except that she was dr
awn to him in a way she had never been to a man.
He was the polar opposite of her husband.
And the way he talked, he could speak about the most uninteresting topics like money management and organizational focus, and she was spellbound.
It wasn’t long before she would find reasons to contact him outside of their weekly coaching sessions.
Then one early evening, it happened.
Just like she imagined, just like she wanted it to.
She was prepared.
Waxed, shaved, hair done, new lingerie. Makeup expertly applied.
Sans wedding ring.
And he must’ve anticipated it - when she arrived that afternoon for a last-minute appointment, he was the only one in the office. He motioned for her to follow him not into his corner office, but into the breakroom.
There he locked the door behind them and faced her.
The chemistry between them was palpable, the sexual tension overwhelming.
“Why here?” she asked.
His response was husky. “What do you want?”
“You.”
“As your advisor?”
“I want you to coach me.”
“How so?”
“Sexually.”
She flushes crimson thinking about it as she digs her toes into the cold, wet sand. It was like someone had taken over her body, a vixen, since she removed her clothes seductively in a way she never had, twisted into positions she’d never experienced, and whispered in his ear all the dirty things she wanted him to do, so much so that he blushed bright red.
Then he succeeded in making all of her fantasies come true over the next six months.
And she had to keep a big secret from Grant, her friends, and most of all, herself. Because she was falling in love with the double life, and it was all-consuming.
It wasn’t until Lucy caught her that she was forced to take a step back.
The Perfect Stranger Page 13