Ilse's Story: The A-Z of Trophy Wives, #9

By D.D. Grey

They're young, beautiful, with fast cars and luxury homes—with absentee, older husbands. Bored and lonely, each of our trophy wives has her own solution.

 

It had been a cliché romance. Hired as an au pair, the leggy blonde had ended up looking after the two children when the wife left, leaving the husband vulnerable to seduction. A year after the divorce, she married her businessman husband, but it wasn't long before she realized she had little in common with him—except for her two charges, now step-daughters.

Now three years later, with them in school and him at work, life started to feel empty for Ilse.

A chance conversation got her back interested in continuing her studies. She'd gained her degree in England, but to go for more, she needed to do some remedial classes. Besides, she was six years out of date, and economics had moved on. Roger was supportive, so she enrolled in the courses she needed and started studying again. Life at home seemed to settle down again, and college life was a new challenge.

Then she met Susan, also doing the remedial course, and they ended up as study partners. However, with her home life still stagnant, Ilse began to wonder what Susan's real motivation was for the intense friendship the younger woman offered.

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.D. Grey
• Release date: Aug 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223365594

Book preview

Chapter 1

Ilse forced a smile and tried hard not to lose her temper. It wasn’t easy, especially in the mornings, and Monday mornings seemed to be worse than the rest of the week. It wasn’t helped by Roger having to head into work early this morning.

Now, come on Denise, these are your favorite cereals, and you have to eat, or you won’t be able to study properly.

I don’t care. I want the chocolate ones.

Not happening, you know they’re too sweet.

Mummy would give them to me.

Ilse tried hard not to let the hurt of that statement show. Her smile wavered, but she forced herself to keep it on her face. It hurt even more because it was Alice, Roger’s ex-wife and mother to the two girls who had walked out on the family four years ago. She’d also been a health freak, and there was no way she’d have allowed any form of chocolate breakfast cereal in the house.

Now, Denise, you know that’s not true. What does mummy make you for breakfast when you stay over on a weekend?

That was another sore subject, Alice was supposed to have the girls one weekend in two, but lately, it had become one in four.

She lets me have them, both of us have whatever we want.

Liar, liar. Pants on fire.

Keep out of it please, Martha. Now I know very well that mommy Alice does not allow you to have chocolate cereals, so eat the ones in your bowl or you’ll go hungry. In any case, we don’t have any chocolate Krispies in the house.

You could go to the shop... Ilse felt she was winning. Even Denise had realized her argument was weakening.

If I went to the shop, I wouldn’t have time to get ready to take you to school, now would I? Don’t you want mommy Ilse to look her best when she takes you to school? You wouldn’t want me to turn up in a housecoat and slippers, would you?

Francis’s mummy did last week.

That’s because Francis’s mummy is ill, and I’m not ill am I?

No...

Ilse breathed a sigh of relief as Denise dug her spoon into the bowl and started to munch on the cereals. She knew what part of the problem was, they were supposed to have gone to their real mum’s this weekend and Alice had backed out at the last minute, leaving two dejected little girls. Two dejected adults too, Roger had been looking forward to some alone time with her, and ditto for her with him.

With both girls eating she breathed a sigh of relief and stepped into the hallway, only to bump straight into her husband.

Oomph!

He chuckled and squeezed harder. As they’d collided his arms had gone around her, and in doing so, he’d grabbed a handful of her left breast. It hadn’t been intentional, but Roger didn’t let go for several seconds. After a reproachful look, she brushed his hand off then noticed he’d already got his suit jacket on.

You handled that well, baby.

You were listening? Why didn’t you step in?

Denise’s voice carries when she’s in that mood. I just said why I didn’t step in. You were handling it pretty damned well. I’m proud of you, you know that. He kissed the end of her nose, his strong cologne whispering up her nose to tug on her psyche. She loved Por Homme, and he’d worn a lot this morning.

Jacket on, already?

Yep, gotta go. I’m already running a little late.

But, I need you to watch them while I get dressed...

He chuckled and looked down at her. She knew what he saw, and that he liked the view. She wasn’t tall, but her legs were long for her body. Since she had her short silk robe belted around her waist, and not a lot underneath, there was a lot to see.

Sixty seconds, no more, while I kiss them goodbye. He kissed the end of her nose again and stepped back, darting around the corner into the kitchen.

Hi girls. Who’s got a hug for daddy because it’s time for daddy to go to work.

Ilse didn’t wait around for the inevitable squeals of greeting and dismay following his announcement. She headed for the stairs almost at a run and was through the bedroom door to the sound of the sudden cacophony from the kitchen table.

Dropping the robe to the floor, she grabbed the clothes she’d already laid out and stepped into the panties. Only then did she notice Roger had opened the drapes, meaning she was nude in front of the picture windows that lit their bedroom. She squealed and turned away.

What’s the matter? Roger’s voice floated up from the bottom of the stairs.

The drapes, You opened the drapes. She wanted to swear but bit back the f-word that she wanted to insert into the sentence—the girls would be listening.

So?

I’m not dressed.

He chuckled, and she heard an inquiring voice.

What’s the matter with mommy Ilse?

It’s alright Martha, mommy Ilse is just flashing the garden. Go back and finish your cereal.

What do you mean flashing the garden...

Ilse rolled her eyes, Roger hadn’t thought that one through, and now there was no doubt her younger step-daughter would be talking about that at school. Probably all day, knowing Martha’s persistence with anything she didn’t understand. She uttered a sarcastic sub voce Thank You and pulled her jeans on.

I’ve got to go.

I know.

She pulled her t-shirt on and stepped into her mules, not bothering with heels, then grabbed her purse and her hairbrush and hurried downstairs in time to get a peck goodbye as Roger rushed out the door.

Come on girls, time to finish up. Put your dishes in the sink, I’ll deal with them later.

Okay, why have you got your hairbrush in your hand?

Because mommy didn’t get time to brush her hair.

Is that because you were flashing the gardener?

The gardener isn’t here, and daddy didn’t say the gardener, he said garden.

Oh. So why were you flashing the garden?

I wasn’t doing anything of the kind, Martha, now get your shoes on.

But daddy said...

Daddy was joking. Shoes. Go. Now.

Martha at least dropped the subject, but Ilse knew it wouldn’t be long before it came back up. She just hoped it wasn’t at school.

* * * *

Martha’s teacher smiled at Ilse. I gather someone was having a fun morning.

Ilse frowned at the young blonde. I was?

Entertaining the gardener according to young Martha.

Ilse couldn’t help it, she was shaking her head even as she blushed. That wasn’t what happened at all!

Miss Brown laid her hand on Ilse’s arm. Trust me, I know. If half of the things the kids told me were the real truth, as opposed to their literal interpretation of what they think they heard, this town would be the biblical equivalent of Sodom and Gomorrah.

Ilse breathed out a sigh of relief. I could strangle them at times.

Don’t worry about it. I know what you mean, but be careful I don’t take you literally. If I did, I have a duty to report...

You wouldn’t.

The teacher chuckled. As I said, if I took everything I heard literally, I’d be reporting someone every day. Don’t for one moment think Martha is the worst, she’s not, by a long chalk. I guess she’s upset that mummy Alice didn’t pick her up for the weekend.

She told you, then.

Yeah, she was quite down this morning until she decided to recount the story of the gardener and ask everyone she met what flashing meant.

Oh God...

Don’t worry, none of the staff answered the question, which just frustrated her. Let me guess, someone left the drapes open?

Yep.

Ah. And the gardener wasn’t there?

Nope, doesn’t come in the week, only on Saturdays. As Martha knows as well as we do.

You’re in the clear then. Don’t sweat it and let the subject drop, like all the other things she comes out with. Honestly, I suspect they’re just trying to get a reaction out of you because their biological mother doesn’t seem to give them the time of day, let alone the attention they crave. You’re doing good.

Thank you.

Think nothing of it. If they’re happy at home, it makes my life much easier. Now, must dash...

Before she could say anything else the teacher was gone, and Martha was standing in front of her, hands on hips, frowning at her.

And your problem is...?

Well If you really want to know ...

I do.

Oh... It seemed Martha was surprised by Ilse’s response. She smiled down at her step-daughter and took her hand and headed for the car. Denise was already leaning against the car, a long-suffering look on her face.

Finally.

Martha’s teacher wanted to talk to me about something, learn some patience young lady.

Oh? So what’s my sister been doing today to get into trouble?

She wasn’t in trouble.

Oh. Denise seemed disappointed to hear that and responded by sticking her own tongue out when Martha did it at her.

Enough. In the car, now.

Yes, mummy Ilse.

Chapter 2

Talk to me, babe.

Hmmm? Ilse looked up from the book she’d had open on her lap but hadn’t been reading. Her thoughts had been elsewhere. She looked over at her husband. Sorry, what?

I said talk to me.