“It’s from a little-known designer I discovered by chance,” I replied.
“Well, I want the contact details. She’s got a great eye,” Saska concurred.
“I’ll let her know.” I smiled shyly.
There was pride in my voice; these ladies liked the dress. The wives were really nice. Winona was the eldest and a moviestar. She and Aaron had two children. Saska was a singer and was renowned throughout the world. She had stopped touring because she was raising her and Brock’s children. Zinnia was a model who now owned her own modelling agency, which was doing well. She was Dax’s wife.
Ryder’s wife was Oceane, a famous TV presenter of the natural world. And finally, there was Rebel, Jude’s wife and a game designer. I didn’t fit in, but they were nice, nonetheless.
“Tell us about yourself,” Rebel demanded.
“Nothing much to say, I’m Oliver’s wife. We met as children. We got married four years ago, and I’m a housewife,” I said, smiling.
“Ah, I see, going with the bland, boring, perfect housewife. Yeah, you’re of no interest to us,” Oceane dismissed me and turned her back to speak to Winona. I was shocked, at the very least. That had been really rude.
“Do you have any hobbies?” Rebel asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
“Nothing particular, reading, cooking, gardening,” I paused, and Zinnia caught it.
“What, you’re hiding something?” she pushed, and Oceane turned back around.
“Keeping secrets?” she murmured, eyes raking over my face.
Winona stared and then smirked. “You designed that dress, didn’t you?”
I paled a little. Did it really look that amateurish?
Chapter Four.
Alicia
“Winona guessed right, didn’t she?” Saska said gleefully.
“Um,” I stammered, unsure what to say.
“Well, Alicia, you’ve just become interesting. Don’t ruin it with a lie. Of course, that would then lead us to wonder why you’re lying, Alicia,” Oceane stated.
I felt uneasy about this situation. Usually, conversation was around the latest fashion, vacations, or the usual nonsensical crap.
“If you designed that, own it. Or are you so far under Oliver’s controlling thumb you don’t have a voice without him?” Oceane challenged.
“Control? I love my husband, Oceane. Whatever you’re thinking is wrong, and being judgemental is cruel and unnecessary,” I said, and fire flashed in my eyes.
Oceane grinned. “Someone’s developed a backbone suddenly. Little Miss Perfect isn’t one hundred per cent a Stepford Wife yet.”
“What do you mean?” I demanded.
“Alicia, do you know how many meals, meetings, parties, and events we’ve attended, and most of the wives fall into two categories? The first are social climbers, looking for their next mark to influence to get ahead of others. Those bitches target those whose marriages are rocky, so that they can gain a sugar daddy.
“We can’t stand that type of woman. The second are like you, Stepford Wives. No personality, drab, boring, dull. Experts at small talk and the ideal businessman’s wife. Personally, none of us like either of those types,” Winona said.
“Naturally, we influence our husbands to avoid business with people who have those sorts of marriages. Especially the Stepford Wives. Because that means the husbands are controlling assholes who are wound up too tight. Frankly, they’ll micromanage every detail and lose everything. They’re anal retentive, and our hubbys hate them,” Rebel said.
“Sometimes, though it’s becoming rarer, we spot a real marriage. A partnership of equals and a couple in love. The wife doesn’t stay at home, darn his socks, and prepare perfect meals that get thrown away because he’s late. She doesn’t go to bed alone because hubby loves her so much that he spends every minute possible with her. Those marriages are rare, but if we meet the spouse of one, we urge our husbands to invest because he’s worth it,” Zinnia explained.
“Which type are you?” Rebel asked.
“Yes, I designed the dress and made it,” I admitted. Oliver really wanted this investment, and I could jeopardise this for him. These women didn’t want the perfect wife; strangely, they wanted the real me. If this was a cruel trick, and they were setting a trap, I’d cost Oliver everything, and he’d be devastated.
