Melissa's Story: The A-Z of Trophy Wives, #13

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.

 

Melissa had a problem. She'd overspent again—and her husband wasn't going to be happy about it. Her allowance was generous, but her often-absent husband meant the house was empty and lonely for her. She compensated by spending and spending and spending…

When she opened her credit card bill, she knew she was in serious trouble. That afternoon at the gym, she was obviously troubled, and her friend Gina asked her what was up. Over coffee, she poured out her woes and the need to find 3k before the end of the month.

Gina had an answer for her, but it meant breaking something Melissa considered sacred – her marriage vows. Could she really pull a trick, as Gina was suggesting? A doubleheader even?

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.D. Grey
• Release date: Sep 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223767893

Book preview

Chapter 1

Melissa had known what was in the mailbox before she walked down the driveway. Just the little flag up was enough to set her heart racing and her anxiety level through the roof. Almost hyperventilating as she tried to appear casual as she walked, no, strolled, out to the mailbox took an effort. At least trying to appear carefree to the neighbors was one way of distracting herself from thoughts of the mail box’s contents.

Sure enough, right there on the top of the pile as she extended her hand and removed the mail from the box, was the letter. A white envelope, bearing the bank’s logo. Her hand trembled, and she almost dropped the rest of the mail, most of which was junk. One was a utility bill, and she wasn’t sweating that, Kelvin would handle that as he always did. It was the one from the bank addressed to her that she’d known was coming, the one Kelvin would want to see when he got home.

Actually no, he wouldn’t want to see, that was the most inaccurate thing she could think of. A total one-hundred-and-eighty-degree reverse of the truth. He would insist on seeing it, yes, but want to, no, he wouldn’t want to see it. Nor would she want to let him see it, but it wasn’t one she could just discard. It couldn’t be ignored. It hadn’t been ignored the month before, or the month before that. It couldn’t be ignored this time either.

As soon as she shut the front door, blotting out the outside world, she hurried through to the kitchen, dropped the mail on the counter top and grabbed her cell.

I need to talk, are you free lunchtime? M

It didn’t take her friend, Gina, long to reply it never did.

Not this lunchtime, honey, sorry. In a meeting. I’ll be finishing up at about four. Got three viewings and a new listing in the area. Not far from you actually. I’ll pop round then, Okay? Gina.

Fine, see you then. You want something to eat or just a coffee?

From the sound of your text, something stronger. No, I’m out tonight, so no food. Gina

The young housewife forced a smile, the sound of her text, indeed. She knew what Gina had meant, she’d sounded desperate. Well, she was. At least Kelvin was away ‘til Friday, she had ‘til then to find a way of settling her credit card bill before he got home. If he saw the total she’d run up, he’d go ape. Last month she’d promised to cut back. The month before she’d said the same and almost made it, just that lovely chintz dining table and dresser set had seemed so nice, so reasonable. In the cold light of day, or rather at the focus of her husband’s tight, icy, glare, it hadn’t seemed so nice, let alone so reasonable.

At least she’d been able to return it last month and get a refund. Only, she’d spent the refund and more on other things. This month had been worse still, worse than she’d imagined it could be. She didn’t dare open the envelope.

She knew what it would say, the total appeared on the banking app on her cell, every time she ran the damned thing. There was only one item on the entire month he wouldn’t quibble when he saw it. That was her birthday present for him. Yes, seven hundred and fifty dollars for a top of the range Calloway driver was a bit pricey. She knew, though, that he’d hankered after one of those for a while. He’d certainly dropped enough hints through the summer. It was three hundred dollars off too.

Even without that, though, she’d exceeded the amount she’d agreed was her limit. It wasn’t her fault the actual card limit was twenty times that, was it? Of course, that difference was for emergencies, but she couldn’t claim that. Nor could she claim she’d spent it on household expenses, they came off a different card, on the joint account. He was the one who got those statements, and although she’d spent up, she hadn’t overshot by enough to matter.

Her own personal credit card, now that was a different matter.

* * * *

The statement sat on the countertop, unopened until gone three o’clock. 

She just couldn’t bring herself to face it. Instead, she started blitzing the house. By the time half-past three rolled around, she was dirty, sweaty, but the house was spotless. Sitting at the breakfast bar, she pulled the envelope toward her, and biting her lip, ripped the flap open. She stared at the figures on the sheet of paper, watching them as they blurred, jumped into focus, and then blurred again. There was no way she could clear that two and a half-thousand balance without Kelvin finding out. She was screwed.

She was about to lower her face to her hands and let herself sob when the doorbell rang.

Hi, sweetie, what’s up?

Gina, as always, well, when she knew Kelvin wasn’t home, just rang the bell and walked in. Despite the warnings Kelvin gave her, Melissa rarely locked the front door during the day. Gina took advantage of that fact and stalked straight in. In her navy business suit and crisp white blouse, she looked every bit the professional realtor who was just starting her day. She definitely didn’t look like the woman who’d done three house showings and a listing since lunch.

Melissa gave her a wan smile and looked her friend up and down. Gina, as ever looked impeccable, from the perfectly tailored jacket to the slightly too short skirt that showed off her long, nylon clad legs. Melissa knew her friend never wore pantyhose, hated the damn things. Without having ever asked, she was sure her friend wasn’t averse to flashing some stocking top if she needed to swing a deal.

How the hell do you look so good this deep in the day?

Gina winked. Practice, sweetie, practice. And a damned good air-conditioner set at max in my Audi. It might be ninety-five outside, but in my car, it’s a perfect sixty-five. Or eighteen as the manufacturers claim because the controls work in European scales. It keeps me fresh, and that freshness impresses the hell out of late afternoon customers who’re sweating more than a turkey the day before Thanksgiving."

Melissa rolled her eyes. Thanksgiving turkeys need to be hung for three days, at least, before the day.

If you’d been hung upside down for three days and you knew what was going to happen to you, you’d be sweating too.

Shaking her head, Melisa pointed at the coffee machine and watched as her friend made herself a coffee and pulled up a stool to the other side of the breakfast bar.

Now, what’s up, sweetie? She tapped the paper in front of Melissa. As if I didn’t already know. I think we have these crisis meetings every month. Except when Kelvin gets the mail first.

I know, sorry.

Don’t apologize to me. She giggled. Unless you’re trying to rehearse your apology for Kelvin. She winked, pulling an outrageous face. I’m sure I wouldn’t mind being on the receiving end of that fantastic apologetic blow-job you’re going to give him on Friday, but I don’t have the equipment, sorry.

Melissa just shrugged, not bothering to rise to that. Sometimes the way she confided in her friend could come back and bite her on the ass. She had apologized in that particular way to Kelvin, in the early months of their marriage. Now, two years on, she didn’t think even a nice sloppy blow-job would get her off the hook. Nor would a week of them, or even a month. She’d offer that if she thought it would work, but it wouldn’t. Kelvin had been adamant as he boarded the plane for Japan. Keep to her limits. What she spent it on was entirely up to her, but she’d promised not to go over the grand mark on her card. A little bit over she could have got away with, he wasn’t that harsh. Even saying she’d bought him a new driver for his birthday in two weeks’ time, might have swung it, if she’d been circumspect about everything else. She hadn’t, and now it felt like the weight of the world was crashing in on her.

She looked up to see Gina sitting watching her. Show me, Melissa, how much are we talking about?

Melissa pushed the sheet of paper across the counter to her, and Gina held it in one hand to read, while she cradled her coffee mug in the other, pausing only to take sips of coffee in between reading each line.

Oh.

Gina sat quietly for a minute, and Melissa was grateful for the fact her friend never judged. She never had, although it had to be almost as exasperating for her as it was for Kelvin. There again, perhaps not, after all, it was Kelvin who earned the money that she so casually frittered away. The shame threatened to overwhelm her again.

Right, what’s this one? Gina pointed to the top line of the detailed statement and Melissa had to think before replying. For the next fifteen minutes, Gina continued to question her, and Melissa answered as well as she could There were a couple of entries she had to think hard about, but nothing she couldn’t identify, nothing untoward. Despite almost wishing she could, nobody had cloned her card and gone on a spending spree. That might have been preferable, but there again, maybe not.

After the Q & A Gina paid a visit to the cloakroom and then sat back down opposite