“Oh hell yes I did.”
They exchanged girlish smiles before Alicia acknowledged the doorman in front of the conference room. He nodded, scratched her name off a list, and admitted her to the Married Women’s Alliance.
The room was exactly what she had already expected from a place like this high society country club. The views out of the large windows overlooked flat, grassy terrain dotted with croquet courses and horse-riding trails. The encroaching (and immaculately groomed) forest and the faraway mountains created a picturesque landscape that Alicia could easily slap on some postcards and sell by the thousands. Postcards were so below this audience, however.
“Oh, you came!” Lara Anderssen stood from the large mahogany table and extended both hands to Alicia. Grinning, she dumped her things in an empty chair and was instantly swept up in a womanly hug marked by huge breasts pressing against her tender ones and two kisses to her cheeks.You slept with my wife, slut.There. She got it out of her system. “I told you all that she would come,” Lara said to the rest of the table.
A dozen heads turned toward Alicia. She only recognized Monique Warner sitting on the other side of the table, but there were a few others she tangentially recognized from some functions and the tabloids. Of course, Alicia knew a lot about them… on paper. She had been studying their dossiers for the past two weeks. Now, it was time to take the biggest test of her career so far.
She was introduced to everyone, some women opting to shake her hand while others merely smiled in placation. Not everyone there was young. More than one woman sported white hair and crow’s feet proudly walking across her face. For the most part, however, the association was a smattering of women from their late 20s to mid-40s. Lara was a good average to represent them all.I knew walking in here that I was the baby.A baby they allwanted to know and love, she was sure. Thanks to her wife, of course.
I could be eighteen, and they would have invited me here because Danica is my wife.Slowly, Alicia was becoming acclimated to how powerful her new family was. The only thing was playing the part in front of these experienced wives of billionaires.
An older woman by the name of Charlene Fraser was the de facto president of the Alliance.She’s got a gavel and everything.Alicia was glad she sat on the far end of the table, where she didn’t have to get the brunt of thatthwack!when the meeting was called to order.
Alicia’s hand cramped as she took a million notes with pen and paper. Nobody else took as many notes as she did. To be fair, most of them probably didn’t care about Mrs. Fraser’s community garden project or Mrs. Warner’s future investments in adult entertainment.Enjoy your new porn-making enterprise, Candice.Alicia was amused, but most of the women at the table gritted their teeth and counted the Warner dollar signs dancing before them.
Community garden… adult entertainment…Alicia had a damn pie chart going on in her Moleskine notebook. With any luck, she would read her own shorthand later when she typed these up into real notes.
“Now, we’ve heard so much about you, Mrs. Moreau,” said Charlene Fraser toward the end of the hour. “We’d love to get to know you.”
“Please. Alicia.” Not that she didn’t like being called Mrs. Moreau these days. “I’m not sure what to share about myself. I’m still terribly new to this whole thing. Every day is a new learning experience.”
“All the better for you to formally join our association. We have a mentorship program for those who qualify.”
Yes, and I’m sure you’d love to mentor me and my money.What did the Frasers do again? Investment funds? Quite frankly, Alicia didn’t really care what the Frasers did. They owned no shares in Moreau Industries. Alicia wasn’t looking to change that anytime soon.
“Mrs. Anderssen had informed us that you’re already venturing into new enterprises with your maiden name. What was it, Lara? Colbert Hospitality Handling?”
“Holdings,” Lara supplied.
“Oh, right! Very intriguing. We do hope that you’re considering some lovely venues where most of us could relax.” Mrs. Fraser shot Monique Warner a dirty look. Someone did not appreciate all the sex going on in the background.If I have another ally outside of Lara Anderssen here, it’s Monique Warner.She’s not really wanted here either, except for her wife’s prestige and money. If somebody didn’t want Lara, it was because she was boisterous and at times crude… but she knew she was both of those things, and owned them.
Alicia cleared her throat. “I am primarily interested in accessible lounges and restaurants, yes.” By accessible, Alicia meant her new friends could come whenever they felt like – no nipple clamps or vulgar language required. “Still doing some market research before I decide which one will take precedence. Oh, and raising funds, of course.”
“Yes.” Mrs. Fraser narrowed her eyes. Her peacock blue blouse draped lavishly on her wiry frame, curly silver hair bouncing with every turn of her head. “My husband mentioned that he heard on the grapevine that you have purchased quite a bit of the private stock in your wife’s company.”
“We like to think of it asourcompany.”
“Oh. Of course.”
Nothing was sacred in this group, was it? Well, in that case…
“Let me be blunt, as I do not have a lot of time to spare in my day.” Another Moreau trait Alicia had picked up since sayingI do.“I’m interested in joining this organization. But as I’m sure you will all start demanding my precious time, attention, and money the moment I transfer the membership funds over, I’m also sure that I will expect something in turn.”
More than one person perked up at the table.This is probably the most mental stimulus they’ve had at one of these things since Monique joined.
“What do you expect from us, Mrs. Moreau?”
Alicia knew her worth. She was poised to make demands and offers that she could easily walk away from, but women like Mrs. Fraser would be hard-pressed to turn down. What would her wife say if she found out they had access to her investment money, but Charlene wouldn’t agree to her terms? That the others wouldn’t fall in line? Alicia wasn’t Debbie Newcomer, who had tripped onto some millionaire’s bank account and crowned herself Beauty Queen of the Country Club. She was Alicia Fucking Moreau, wife to one of the most influential businesswomen in the whole damn country.
They would at least consider her demands.
“Nothing leaves this room, correct?”
“Correct,” came a curious chorus.
Alicia straightened her shoulders. “Half of you in this room own shares of my company. You’re all going to sell them to me.ThenI will join.”
