Trophy Wife Read online

  “I’ve gotta go, Mom. I love you and I’ll see you later,” I said quickly, needing to hang up before I said something I couldn’t take back.

  I sunk down onto the pretty iron bench Helen had set up in her flower garden on the side of the shop.

  My ex-husband was having a baby with his new wife? The man who’d told me he didn’t want to have more kids. Who said the ones he’d raised with his first wife were more than enough for him, even though he knew how much I’d wanted a baby?

  “When is he going to stop hurting me?” I muttered quietly, willing the tears unsuccessfully not to fall.

  I gave myself a few moments to mourn the life I’d wanted to have with Jared and then stood up and shook it off. Helen was counting on me to man the store while she took care of some personal business, and no one wanted to buy high-end clothing from a depressed woman with a tear-stained face.

  I hurried inside, stopping in the bathroom to fix my makeup before going to relieve Helen at the front of the store.

  “How’s your mom feeling?” Helen asked when I joined her at the display.

  “She said she’s fine, but she didn’t sound great. I’ll go over there once Simone relieves me.”

  “I’ll go see her this weekend.”

  “I’m sure she’ll love that,” I told Helen with a sunny smile. “Seeing you always makes her feel better.”

  “Okay, well, if you’re all set here, I’m going to head out.”

  “You got it. I’ll make sure the new stock gets loaded into the system and put out,” I assured her.

  I loved my job, and working with Helen was a dream. I got a great deal on beautiful clothes and jewelry and really enjoyed helping the customers find pieces that made them feel beautiful.

  By the time Simone came in for the evening shift, I’d not only done everything I promised Helen I would, but I’d also updated the window display with some of our newest items. As I walked out of the shop for the night, I glanced at my handiwork and left with a smile on my face.

  It felt wonderful to be satisfied in my work. Now if only my personal life could give me the same sense of contentment, I’d have everything I wanted.

  I knew Whitney was probably busy with Luca and her kids, so I shot Margo a text asking if she’d be up for meeting for a drink. The thought of going back to my apartment, where I’d have to eat dinner alone and be stuck with my thoughts of Jared and Vanessa having a baby, was too unpleasant to imagine right now.

  I unplugged my Audi e-tron GT and got behind the wheel.

  The ridiculously expensive car was left over from my marriage, and if it was paid off, I’d totally sell it and keep the proceeds. But since Jared was currently paying on it, I’d happily keep driving it until the tires fell off.

  I always felt silly parking it in my designated spot at my rundown apartment complex, which was the only thing I could currently afford, and often worried it wouldn’t be there when I got up in the morning.

  But so far, she was there every day. All pretty, shiny, and blue. My last token from my previous life.

  The panel on my dashboard beeped and I looked over to see an incoming message from Margo.

  I pressed play and it said, “Yeah, babe. I can meet you at Sullivan’s in ten.”

  I knew I could count on Margo, I thought with a smile as I made a right toward the restaurant.

  I used the valet. Grabbing my Louis Vuitton purse from the passenger side before getting out of the car, I gave the valet driver a flirty smile.

  Okay, so I had more than one token left over from my marriage to Jared.

  I felt lighter as I made my way inside to wait for Margo. Knowing I’d be seeing her made me feel a million times better than I had earlier, and I knew she’d help me sort through my feelings about Jared’s new development.

  I told the hostess we’d be a party of two and followed her through the room to an empty table near the bar.

  Glancing around, I was about to take my seat when a familiar face snagged my attention. It took me a few moments to place him, but there was only one floppy-haired, sexy professor I’d been thinking about recently.

  “Noah,” I said out loud, not realizing how loud until Noah and the man he was sitting at the bar with both turned to look at me.

  4

  Noah

  “Wow, do you know her?” Trent asked, his tone reverent at the sight of the gorgeous woman who’d called out my name.

  “No,” I said, absolutely sure I’d never seen her before. She’s the kind of woman you’d remember meeting. “She must be talking to someone else.”

  Her eyes widened and her cheeks turned pink before she seemed to jump into the chair and slide down as if she were trying to become invisible.

  “Seems like she knows who you are,” he said, turning his attention away from the woman to glance at me. “Are you holding out on me, man?”

  I tore my eyes from the beautiful blonde and gave a derisive snort.

  “Yeah, right,” I muttered. “A woman like that wouldn’t look twice at a guy like me. She can have anyone she wants.”

  “A truer statement has never been spoken, but I swear she looked at you like you were the last slice of chocolate cake on the planet.”

  “You’re the only person I know with a chocolate cake obsession. I’m sure she was simply embarrassed because she thought I was someone else.”

  “Whoa, check out the woman who just joined her. I swear women weren’t this hot when I was single,” Trent said, looking indiscreetly over his shoulder. “Except for Cam, of course.”

  “Of course,” I mimicked with a grin. If there was ever a man who would do anything for his wife, it was Trent. Still, he loved to act like being married was a chore and he missed the single life. Since I knew him when he was single, I knew it was all bullshit. Trent had never been happier.

  I shifted so I could check out the table and see what he was going on about.

  A very tall, sleek, and I’d have to say, intimidating as hell, woman had joined the blonde, who I also found intimidating, but in a different way. The raven-haired woman looked like she would literally take a man by the balls and have him do her bidding, while the petite blonde had the whole Marilyn Monroe thing going on.

  To put it simply, I had no business even looking in their direction.

  I fumbled absently with the button on my cuff and noticed I’d gotten some wing sauce on my sleeve.

  “Of course I did,” I mumbled, before flagging down the bartender. “Can I get another draft and some club soda, please?”

  “Another one?” he asked Trent, who shook his head and said, “Better not.”

  “Cam still got you on that diet?” I asked when it was the two of us again.

  Trent sighed and looked longingly at the remains of my wings.

  “It feels like we’re always trying a new diet. First it was Atkins, then the Mediterranean diet … the whole thirty, paleo, Nutrisystem … If it’s out there, we’ve tried it. I wish we could just eat what we want to eat and be happy.”

  “Have you told Cam that?” I asked, grateful I didn’t have anyone monitoring my food intake.

  I’m sure my late-night gummy worm addiction wouldn’t be a big hit with most ladies.

  “Nah. Ever since Cam had Tucker, she’s been self-conscious about the baby weight. I’m trying to be supportive by dieting with her. I just wish she saw herself the way I see her. I mean, she’s perfect, ya know?”

  I nodded in solidarity and then my gaze wandered back to the table behind us, as if of their own volition.

  “They’re looking over here,” I whispered to Trent, nerves suddenly flooding my body. “Holy shit, the dark-haired one is getting up … she’s staring at us … she’s coming over … be cool.”

  The last was said in kind of a whisper-shout as I shifted in my seat to face straight forward, my back going rigid as all the reasons she could be coming over ran through my mind.

  Did she catch us staring? Think we were creeps? Is she pissed her
friend had gotten embarrassed?

  “Well … hello, professor,” she said, her tone playful, yet somehow stern.

  Wondering how the hell she knew where we worked, I turned with a curious expression.

  “To which professor are you referring?” I asked, wincing when I could hear the stodginess in my voice.

  “Oh, are you both studious, then?” she asked with a smirk.

  Trent just looked up at her, his mouth slightly agape.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I replied. “Can we help you with something?”

  “You’re Noah, right?” she asked, causing me to give her a baffled nod. “I’m Margo, and that bombshell over there is my friend, Summer.”

  “Uh, this is Trent,” I replied automatically, even though I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what the hell was going on.

  “Hello, Trent,” Margo said, turning to look at him for the first time. She seemed to look him over, before her gaze landed on his left hand. “Hmm, married. Pity.”

  I wanted to laugh at my friend’s stunned expression, but I was too confused.

  “How do I know you?” I asked when she turned her attention back to me.

  “You don’t. But my friend saw you on that True Love dating app.”

  I flushed as her words registered. I’d joined that app on a dare from Trent. I hadn’t been on it in over a year and hadn’t realized my profile was still active.

  “Oh, no, sorry, I meant to close that account,” I said hurriedly.

  “So, you’re no longer single?” she asked, one eyebrow winging up.

  “He’s definitely single,” Trent put in before I could reply.

  I shot him a look before asking, “Why? Did you guys have a friend you wanted to set me up with or something?”

  It seemed far-fetched, but the fact that she was standing there talking to me was against the laws of nature, so anything was possible.

  “Summer, actually,” Margo said, gesturing back to her friend. “She saw you on the app, but accidently pressed the wrong button and couldn’t contact you.”

  I blinked rapidly, like ten times, looking at Summer, who was blushing furiously as she sucked her beverage through a straw, then back at Margo.

  “Her?” I asked, the question coming out a bit harsher than I intended. “And me? You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m always serious,” Margo said, her face going a little scary. “Are you saying you aren’t interested?”

  I scoffed and said, “I’m saying I think you must be mistaken. I don’t think I’m your friend’s type.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she took in my stained sleeve, loose button, and the tweed jacket on the back of my stool.

  “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you’re ignorant to your own charms, rather than insinuating that Summer isn’t good enough for you.”

  “What? No … I mean, yes … er, no. I would never say she wasn’t good enough for me. She’s obviously gorgeous,” I stuttered, while Trent looked at me, his eyes pleading with me to shut the hell up.

  “Great,” Margo said, holding out her hand. “Give me your phone and I’ll program in her number. You’re obviously flustered, so take a few days and work up the nerve, then give her a call. What’s the harm in one date, right? You never know what could happen.”

  I handed her my phone, too afraid to object, then accepted it back with a “Thank you.”

  When she walked away, I turned to Trent and asked, “What the hell just happened?”

  “I think you just won the lottery, man.”

  5

  Summer

  He hadn’t called.

  After Margo had left me at our table to go and talk with Noah and his friend, I’d almost died of embarrassment.

  I could only imagine the things Margo was saying as I willed myself, unsuccessfully, to become invisible.

  I was normally a confident woman. I’d been told all my life that I was beautiful and even when I was only sixteen, grown men had stopped me on the street to say often-inappropriate things.

  But I knew being attractive wasn’t the kind of thing that would endear me to a man like Noah. In fact, in my less-than-vast experience, I found men like him as intimidated by me as I was by them.

  It was as irrational as a person being afraid of a tiny spider. We knew in our minds that there was nothing to fear, we were all only human, after all, but there was something either in our genetic makeup or the way we were raised that made us think we were ill suited for each other.

  I had been called, many times, I may add … a trophy wife. According to the Urban Dictionary: A Trophy Wife was defined as a young, attractive woman married to an older, more powerful man. His role in the relationship is to be her sugar daddy and provide her with power and material things.

  In other words, I was arm candy at best.

  I didn’t like thinking of myself in this way, and when I’d first heard a woman at my ex-husband’s yacht club call me that, I was devastated. Even though I could see how technically it was true. My husband was older and he’d also had a lot of money. But I’d married him because I loved him, and I’d believed in us. I also knew I had more to offer the world than simply my looks, so I took offense and hadn’t befriended those nasty women.

  They’d acted like I’d done them a favor. Because why would they want to be friends with a woman like me? The kind of woman who stole husbands.

  Being a sensitive person, I’d been hurt at first, but eventually I learned to ignore them and built a wall around my heart. It wasn’t until I met Whitney and Margo that I found women who saw me for who I was and didn’t slap a label on me and call it quits.

  I still understood that a man like Noah probably saw my outer package and tucked me away in a box in his mind that considered me not only unattainable, but unsuitable.

  I’d hoped after Margo told me about their conversation and that she’d given him my number, that he’d be different. But apparently, I’d been wrong. I couldn’t deny it stung a bit and I was allowing myself to have a little pity party over it.

  That was why I was in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, wearing no makeup with my hair up in a messy bun, perusing the aisle of ice cream in my local grocery store.

  Rocky Road, Mint Chocolate Chip, Chunky Monkey … the possibilities are endless, and right now, they all sound so good.

  I opened the glass door and started picking out pints and dropping them into my hand-held basket. They would all keep in the freezer; it wasn’t as if I’d actually eat them all tonight.

  Once my basket was heavy and full of ice cream, I closed the door and turned to head toward the front of the store to check out. I stopped cold when I saw Noah standing at the end of the aisle, peering through the glass.

  My first instinct was to turn and flee. Instead, I held my heavy basket with two hands and tiptoed slowly over to where he was standing.

  Maybe he’d leave before I got there…

  When I was a few steps away, I cleared my throat and called, “Noah?”

  He turned his head, looking momentarily puzzled before he started blinking rapidly and dropped what he’d been holding.

  Automatically, I crouched down to pick up the bag of frozen strawberries. Unfortunately, so did he, and our heads bumped together before we both pulled back.

  “Oh, no! I’m so sorry,” Noah mumbled, grabbing the strawberries and thrusting them back into the freezer before standing to look down at me while absently rubbing his forehead. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, just a little tap. No worries,” I assured him with a sunny grin. When he continued to watch me with his soft brown eyes, but didn’t say anything further, I said, “It’s Summer … from the other night. You talked with my friend, Margo.”

  “Yes, of course. I remember. Uh, how are you?” he asked, rocking slowly side to side.

  “I’d be better if you called,” I replied, hoping it came across as flirty rather than accusing.

  “Yeah, well, I…” he started, running a
hand through his hair, and letting out a nervous laugh. “I wasn’t sure you really wanted me to.”

  “Yes,” I said, a little too quickly. “I did … do … want you to. Everything Margo said to you is a hundred percent true. I totally would have tried to contact you through the app, if my fat fingers hadn’t hit the wrong button.”

  I held up my hand, as if to show him evidence of my fat fingers, and then remembered how I looked.

  “Oh my gosh, I look terrible,” I whispered, stepping back and raising my hand to shift the bun on top of my head, suddenly horrified. I couldn’t believe I’d actually approached him with no makeup on.

  “Are you kidding? You look gorgeous,” Noah scoffed, before seeming to realize what he said and sucking his lips into his mouth as he shook his head and shut his eyes.

  Pleasure filled me at his words and his reaction assured me they were the truth.

  I giggled and he opened one eye to peer down at me.

  “Thank you. That’s very sweet.”

  Noah shrugged sheepishly and said, “You have to know how beautiful you are, regardless of what you’re wearing to dress it up.”

  I wanted to throw my arms around him and hug him tightly; instead I looked up at him and asked, “So, will you please call? Or you can text, that works, too.”

  “I’m not much of a texter and I know as soon as you walk away, I’ll lose the nerve to call,” he admitted, causing my floating heart to deflate a bit. “So, I would rather just ask you now.” Noah cleared his throat and asked formally, “Would you like to go dancing with me on Friday night?”

  “Dancing?” I asked, completely surprised. Dancing was the last thing I’d expected him to want to do. “Yes, I’d love to. What time?”

  “I can pick you up at nine, if that works.”

  “How about you text me the address and I’ll meet you there at nine?” I countered. I may have had a crush on him, but I didn’t actually know him, and I never let strangers pick me up at my house. I was too cautious for that.

  “That works, too,” Noah said easily.