NEVER ENOUGH
by
Thomas Martin
“Would that there were
an award for people
who come to understand the concept of enough.
Good enough,
Successful enough,
Thin enough,
Rich enough,
Socially responsible enough.
When you have self-respect, you have enough.”
- Gail Sheehy
St.
John’s Chapel: Present Day
Her eyes
were fixed, staring straight ahead at seemingly nothing at all. She sat quietly in the back corner of the last
pew of St. John’s Chapel. Of course, she
would soon move to the front, the place of honor for the beautiful, grieving
widow. She was elegantly dressed in a black des Vosges dress and had
to be noticed, admired, and be the recipient of much sympathy. As she sat quietly, staring at the casket
containing the lifeless body of her third husband, the famous and wildly wealthy
fashion demigod, Auguste des Vosges, she reflected on both the casket and her
life and concluded that what she had striven for her entire life was of no
matter to her any longer.
As the
thought of moving to the front pew became foremost in Trophy’s mind, she
instinctively reached for her small purse and retrieved a silver compact and a tube
of expensive French lipstick. She slowly
opened the antique, hand-etched sterling silver case and admired herself in the
mirror. Yes, even at 45, she was still
beautiful and still very much the ultimate trophy wife. She smiled at the fact that she had become
her given name. It was as if her mother
had known her destiny and decided to let everyone know it as well by naming her
Trophy. Her mother’s words still rang
clear in her mind, “Marry; but marry rich.”
Trophy had
chosen this small chapel, foregoing a grand cathedral as would be expected for
a man of Auguste’s status. The small
chapel limited the number of mourners, directing the majority of attention to
Trophy. In spite of the limited
seating, there would likely still be many celebrities and other fashion icons
in the audience. Trophy did not want to
take the chance that this funeral would be about them rather than herself and
Auguste.
As she
looked to the front pew, she knew that shortly, their eleven-year-old son,
Richard, would enter the chapel and take that seat of honor with Trophy. Trophy wanted this time alone in the chapel
and had asked Richard’s nanny to bring him separately, closer to the time of
the actual service.
Trophy’s original
plan in life was to forego “love” and marry an older, wealthy man. She would live in luxury, enjoying the
greatest bounty of the harvest. She
would clearly outlive her husband and would then be free to continue her
self-indulgent life of ease. Possibly one
day, she might find someone with whom she could actually fall in love, a man
who would worship and adore her while she controlled the finances and made all
of the major decisions alone.
Yet, as she
sat thinking of Auguste and the wonderful life they had had together she
realized she had done what she thought was not possible. In spite of their initially “loveless” marriage,
Trophy had actually fallen in love with Auguste.
Trophy
reached for her purse deciding it was time to move to the front pew when, out
of the corner of her eye, she noticed Hiram Bentson entering the chapel and
taking a seat on the opposite side. Trophy
stared blankly at Hiram until Hiram’s head turned slowly, his eyes finally
meeting Trophy’s. Hiram smiled
half-heartedly, nodded briefly, and turned away. Hiram was a major dealer of high-end fabrics
in New York City to the fashion industry.
His clients were all the top design houses both in the United States and
abroad. He also had the dubious honor of
being Trophy’s first husband.
Trophy’s
mind drifted back to shortly after her eighteenth birthday. She was already very aware of her beauty and
the effect it had on others. She also enjoyed
shopping, fine clothing, and being the center of attention. Trophy came to New
York City to audition at the various modeling agencies. She was picked up by the prestigious Tyre
modeling agency and began work as a runway model. She quickly rose to the top as one of the
most sought-after models in New York. Along
with her best friend, fellow model Sandra J., she enjoyed great success as a
model, both on the runways and in print.
What Trophy
did know was that she was extremely envious of the people attending Fashion
Week and other events in NYC. As much as
she enjoyed the attention given her as a model, what she really desired was to
be one of the wealthy, kept wives in the first rows of the various shows.
Although
Trophy was well paid as a model, she realized she would unlikely ever be in the
same financial class as those attending the shows, and that is exactly where
she desired and intended to be. She
decided to use her beauty and charms to find a very wealthy older man, pursue
him, intoxicate him with her charms and marry him. She could tolerate a loveless marriage
knowing she would one day be one of those envied women.
Hiram Bentson: 23 years earlier
It was at a
fitting for a fashion show where Trophy first met Hiram. Hiram was 63 years old and already very
established and wealthy. Although Hiram
made his wealth in this very glamorous industry, he was not really part of the
flash. Other than peddling fabric, he
mostly stayed in the shadows of the various spotlights of the industry. Other models seemed to almost rudely ignore
Hiram, so Trophy decided Hiram was the perfect candidate for her scheme.
Hiram was
hardly a handsome man, being only 5’8”, chubby, balding, and having pronounced
bags under his eyes. But, Hiram was also
a very humble and kind man, especially considering the success he had
achieved. Hiram’s first wife had died
five years earlier and he had adapted well to being a widower. He never really thought about dating or
especially marriage, so he was caught completely off guard when this tall,
statuesque blond model approached and began rather boldly flirting with
him. Of course, he was initially flattered
and quite smitten by Trophy.
Unsure of
what exactly was happening, Hiram could not help but consider exploring the
possibilities. He asked Trophy if she
would enjoy having lunch with him the next day.
To his surprise, Trophy lit up with probably the brightest and most
beautiful smile Hiram had ever seen, and accepted his invitation. Hiram could feel his knees buckle slightly
from her wily and mischievous charms, but Hiram was no fool. Hiram knew Trophy was likely up to something,
something not overly kosher, but he was also so taken by Trophy that he figured
one lunch could not possibly be harmful.
That small
crack in Hiram’s defenses was all the encouragement Trophy needed to make her
move. She knew she would soon be the
next Mrs. Bentson.
Trophy
insisted they go to an intimate and traditional French restaurant on the upper
east side of New York. She knew the
seating would allow them to sit next to each other on an upholstered bench
along the wall. During lunch, Trophy
repeatedly leaned close to Hiram, flaunting her beautiful breasts near his
face. Every time she said anything to
Hiram, she would turn and place her hand on his thigh. At first, it seemed merely casual and
friendly to Hiram, but as the afternoon continued, her hand strategically moved
higher and deeper into his thigh. After
being single and without sex for so long, this was all simply more than Hiram
could ignore. Trophy made Hiram’s heart
beat faster and he discovered a longing in his loins he thought had long past. Could this beautiful creature truly be
interested in him? Guardedly, Hiram decided to let things play out. He didn’t really trust Trophy and he needed
time to think how he might benefit from such a relationship as well has how to
protect himself and his interests should Trophy be nothing more than a gold
digger in a tight red dress.
It was
shortly after lunch when Trophy aggressively came on to Hiram, luring him into
his own bed. The sex was amazing.
Trophy performed acts Hiram had only read and fantasized about in the
past. Yes, she may be a gold digger, but
she was exciting and she did make him feel like a young man again.
Hiram
quickly did two things, he made an appointment with his lawyer and with his doctor.
He wanted to discuss a pre-nuptial agreement, should the relationship progress
along that path, needing time to think and plan. With the doctor, he wanted to get a vasectomy
to ensure there would be no future “surprises.”
Even though he and Trophy were
not even close to discussing marriage, he wanted to ponder what might be in a
pre-nuptial agreement. He wanted to be
protected but he also wanted to be fair.
What if, by chance, Trophy actually loved and cared about him, would he
not want her to share in his good fortune?
The answer, of course, was “yes,” but, he needed time to see how their
marriage played out. Hiram put a
stipulation in the agreement that Trophy would not be entitled to any part of
his estate until they had been married for ten years. During their marriage, Trophy would receive
a monthly “allowance” of $20,000.
Allowances of this nature are common among the wives of the very
wealthy.
Hiram sat on
the wording of the agreement for over three weeks before approaching Trophy
with an impressive ring from Van Cleef and Arpels along with an elaborate dinner
at Le Cirque.
When Hiram proposed
to Trophy, she squealed softly, smiled broadly, and showered him with
kisses. As Hiram covered the terms of
the pre-nuptial, Trophy nodded enthusiastically and said she loved him more
than the agreement and she would happily sign the document. Trophy knew a pre-nuptial would be required
in almost any marriage within this social-strata and had been prepared for this
inevitable “talk.”
Trophy
wasted no time showing off her impressive diamond ring to her friends and
acquaintances, basically anyone from whom she could extract some level of
envy. The display of the ring was always
accompanied by the words, “because my baby loves me very, very much.”
With that,
Trophy landed her first wealthy husband and would no longer need to work by
walking the runways and would instead, be one of the women shopping in the
exclusive boutiques, setting fashion trends at the various shows, and being
featured on Page Six of the New York Post.
Trophy felt
very proud of herself, at the young age of only twenty-two, she was now Mrs.
Hiram Bentson and she wasted no time basking in the light of her husband’s name
and fortune.
Using her
“allowance,” Trophy began amassing a wardrobe of clothes made by the very
designers whose fashions she had regularly modeled. She was now the center of attention in the
various New York boutiques and she reveled in the attention. She knew how to milk various situations,
encouraging the clerks to fawn over her even more than other customers. Trophy knew full well how to work her
audience. Anyone who seemed to show
indifference toward her was quickly written off in her book. She loved other women looking at her with
envy in their eyes, knowing they all wished they could be her.
Even worse,
any woman who turned on Trophy, seemingly betraying her, would be viciously
attacked through gossip and she would even go as far as damaging their careers
or marriages, if the opportunity arose.
Trophy had
arrived and she bathed in the attention, preening her feathers, and demanding
the spotlight whenever and wherever she could. She adored being invited to all
of the best parties and A-list events.
Trophy
selected le Cote Rouge as her restaurant. She staked out her own table in the cozy and very
trendy upper-west-end eatery. Her table
gave everyone entering the restaurant the absolute best view of her and gave Trophy
the best view of those daring to enter her domain. Trophy need never make a reservation as it
was understood it was her table and her table alone. At any
time of the afternoon or evening, Trophy might flutter in with her current
entourage, stop briefly to throw air kisses to François, the maître d’, and enjoy a glass of wine. All the while ensuring she was seen by all
the New York doyenne wives who were also out, wanting to see and be seen.
St.
John’s Chapel: Present Day
Trophy
smiled discretely thinking back to her life with Hiram. Hiram was very good to her and a very kind
man. But Trophy was in her twenties,
young, beautiful and vibrant and not really prepared to accept the quieter life
of merely one of the “ladies who lunch.”
She thought she could set love and passion aside, exchanging it for a
life of wealth. Whether it be her hormones
or her insatiable need for attention, Trophy wanted more.
As rich and
comfortable her life was with Hiram, Hiram was not part of the top echelon of
fashion. He was a minor player. Trophy could not merely say his name and be
met with instant recognition. Introducing
herself as Mrs. Hiram Bentson did not generate the same surprise, awe, and most
importantly envy as saying, for example, “I am Mrs. Calvin Klein.” Hiram was a good man, but not The Man
Trophy needed to fulfill her life.
As she
lifted her eyes back to the front of the chapel, she caught sight of someone new
entering from the rear. It was the
current Uber-Hot male model in fashion, television, and print. Roberto; just Roberto, he didn’t use his last
name. It was doubtful any woman would
be able to resist Roberto. But Roberto’s
entrance reminded Trophy of her first encounter with Roman, her second husband.
Roman: 15
Years Earlier
Trophy was
sitting quietly at her table at Le Cote Rouge, enjoying a glass of
champagne while waiting for her best friend, Sandra J., to join her. As Sandra J. entered, Trophy eyed the most
handsome man she had ever seen, she actually let out an audible gasp when she
first saw him. Every nerve ending in her
body leapt alive by just looking at the rakishly handsome and sexy young
man. A broad smile broke out across
Trophy’s face as Sandra J. and this young god approached her table. “Trophy, I hope this isn’t an inconvenience,
but my brother Roman is visiting me from Texas and I thought he might join us
for lunch.”
Roman was
about six foot-three, black hair, tanned skin, a chiseled, muscular body as
could be seen from his bulging biceps and triceps, and a bright, clear smile
that further melted Trophy into her seat.
This was one of the few times in her life Trophy found herself nearly speechless.
After
several awkward seconds, Trophy was unable to wipe the smile off of her face
but was finally able to clumsily blurt out, “Why, of course not. Please have a
seat.” The entire time her eyes were fixed
on this handsome Texan’s eyes and her heart was beating faster. Of course, Roman’s eyes gazed deeply into
Trophy’s as well.
“Why Sandra,
where ever have you been hiding this dream of a man?”
Not only was
Roman physical perfection, his personality was also quite charming and
alluring. Trophy had never reacted to
any man quite the way she was reacting to Roman. She knew other wives in her circle often kept
lovers, but it had never really crossed Trophy’s mind. Although here was this Adonis flooding her
with every breathless sensation she could possibly imagine. At this moment, Trophy knew she wanted
Roman. In what capacity, exactly, she
did not know. At the minimum, Trophy wanted him in her bed.
Sandra J. uncomfortably
shifted in her seat. She wasn’t all that
surprised at this turn of events, her brother had seduced many women, yet she
suddenly wished she could be somewhere else at this very moment.
The next
several hours were the hottest and most intense ever spent by Trophy. She had never enjoyed sex[TM1] as much as this wild and hot
encounter with Roman. Not only was Roman
good to look at, surprisingly, he also knew how to fully please a woman. By the time night was falling, Trophy and Roman
had loudly orgasmed three times each.
Trophy was left limp from exhaustion and with a total infatuation she
mistook for love.
The idea of
Hiram now almost repulsed her. She
simply could not return to her life with Hiram after her experience with
Roman. Still a young woman, Trophy was
confused, but knew she wanted Roman and wanted him full time. The problem was that Roman was far from rich,
in fact, Roman was currently unemployed.
The reason Roman came to New York was to look into modeling and acting
opportunities. Trophy knew he had a
good shot at both, but these things took time, even with the excellent introductions
she could make for him. Trophy knew that
divorcing Hiram only eight years into the marriage, would leave her with
nothing but her clothes, shoes, and purses.
Yet as she looked at Roman laying naked in her bed she suddenly and
surprisingly decided to forget about money and make “love” her new life’s pursuit. If they just loved each other enough, she
thought, everything would be alright.
It wasn’t
long before Trophy and Hiram divorced and Trophy took Roman as husband number
two.
St.
John’s Chapel: Present Day
If Trophy
had ever felt foolish and naïve it was remembering her thoughts on “love.” “Such a silly little girl I was. Only two years away from Hiram’s pre-nuptial
expiring, and I throw it all away for a mega-hunk with an overactive libido. Love?
What a joke that is.” Trophy
recalled the sex was never as hot after marriage and Roman was just too
appealing to too many other women.
Trophy had to return to working as a model and Roman’s “career,” if it
could be called that, never seemed to amount to much. Through a connection of hers, Trophy was
reduced to selling clothing accessories on the shopping network to make ends
meet. It wasn’t long before Trophy knew
she had made a terrible mistake. Roman had
to go and Trophy would then have to start again finding just the right rich
husband. But this time, she knew enough
to plug all the loopholes in the next pre-nuptial. With Scarlett from Gone with the Wind
in her head she raised her fist and declared, “As God as my witness, I will
never be poor again!”
Of course,
Trophy had a very different view of “poor” than most Americans.
Since
neither Trophy or Roman had much in the way of assets, the divorce was quick
and relatively painless. Trophy thought
back to the fear she experienced after the divorce. “I’m now 32, somewhat past my prime and I
must seduce yet another husband. What a
fool I was to leave Hiram. He was a good
man and very good to me. Why couldn’t I
be satisfied? What’s wrong with me?” she
thought.
Another
unintended consequence of her marriage and divorce to Roman, was it subtly
changed her relationship with Sandra J.
Trophy could not precisely put her finger on it, but things were never
quite the same.
Auguste
des Vosges: 13 years earlier
Trophy was single
and poor and needed to be married and rich.
Unlike when she first started out in fashion, she now had far more
contacts and access to inner circles. In
spite of her efforts in stalking and hunting for a new husband, fate brought the
next husband to her.
It was
during a reception following a show when Sandra J. came over to Trophy and
said, “Trophy, I have someone who really wants to meet you, Auguste des Vosges.” Des Vosges had achieved what all designers desire,
a couture label along with mass-marketed products, each with the distinctive AdV
logo embroidered upon it. He was
extremely wealthy and successful and almost perfect for Trophy. In spite of it being well known that des
Vosges enjoyed the company of men, des Vosges had also just divorced his third
wife. Trophy was a bit reticent, but was
also quite intrigued.
Auguste was
tall, very distinguished looking, elegant, and had the most beautiful salt and
pepper hair. He was lean and fit and had
a confident ease that, it seems, only the French possess. Auguste was also surprisingly friendly and
warm. Maybe it was merely the French in
him, but he continually touched Trophy as they spoke and kept smiling
broadly. Trophy was both thrilled and a
little confused by his actions. She was
especially shocked when Auguste invited her to join him for dinner.
Flattered,
Trophy enthusiastically accepted the invitation. Des Vosges told her he would pick her up at
8:00pm and asked for her address.
Considering her current living conditions, Trophy was not about to give
out such a common address to des Vosges.
Instead, she suggested they meet at the Oak Bar in The Plaza Hotel with
the vague implication she was currently living there.
Des Vosges
smiled, kissed her gently on each cheek and replied, “Then it is a date! I will see you there!”
For once,
Trophy was somewhat unsure of how to dress for an event. She wanted to be very appealing to des
Vosges, but was also confused as to his intentions. He had, after all, been married to women, yet
it was well known his attraction to young men.
She decided to go with a basic black form-fitting little dress. It was classic and looked fantastic on
her. She decided no man, gay or
straight, could ignore her beauty.
Trophy
arrived at the Oak Bar at 7:45pm to find a seat where she would be easily seen
by all who entered. As she walked
through the room, she could feel many eyes upon her and she wondered why she
hadn’t spent more time here in the past.
About
8:05pm, des Vosges entered the bar. He
was impeccably dressed and also drew many looks from around the room as he made
his way to Trophy’s table. Again, he was
smiling from ear to ear with beautiful white teeth. As he neared her table, he extended his hand,
expecting her to do the same. He took
her small, delicate hand in his, elegantly kissed it, and asked “May I join you
my dear?”
He sat down
with her and stared deeply into her blue eyes all the while displaying his
magnificent smile.
As any true
Frenchman would do, Auguste quickly ordered a bottle of Taittinger Brut and several
ounces of sevruga caviar for them to share.
Auguste’s charming, confident, and relaxed manner washed over Trophy
like a warm bath. He was so witty,
friendly, and thoughtful and Trophy found herself completely at his mercy. After finishing the “first course,” Auguste
suggested they go to La Place Vaucluse for dinner. La Place was currently the hottest and most
sought-after reservation in the city. “La
Place? How ever will we get a table?” Trophy thought. But, Trophy was
with a man who lived in a social strata she had only lightly brushed against. No doubt, obtaining a table would not be a
problem for Auguste.
They walked
out of The Plaza to an awaiting Bentley of Auguste’s, the driver then whisked
them to La Place.
Upon their
arrival, they were immediately taken to one of the most prominent
tables in the restaurant. Trophy could
no longer contain her awe and said, “Auguste, reservations here are required
months in advance, however did you get this table?” Auguste smiled a kind a loving smile and
replied, “My dear, I own this restaurant and this is my table. My table is always available for someone as
lovely as you!”
Trophy could
feel her heart being swept next to Auguste’s and her breathing becoming more
shallow and rapid. She was enjoying
herself far too much and found herself falling far too quickly in love with
this man. Sadly, it was a similar
emotional love that led to her marrying Roman, so, she did her best to rein in
her emotions and attempted to simply enjoy the evening.
Just before
dessert was served, Auguste gazed adoringly at Trophy and said “My dear, I
suspect you know my wife and I recently divorced and I understand that you, as
well, are once again single. I have
watched your modeling career for some time now and, to be honest, have been
captivated by your beauty. I think you
might make a lovely addition to the des Vosges label. Might you consider accompanying me to my home
in the Hamptons after dinner?”
Trophy may
have been confused, but des Vosges knew his mind and his objectives. He truly had had his eye on Trophy for
several years. As his marriage was
clearly ending, he began considering other women for the next Mrs. des
Vosges. He had seen Trophy at several of
his shows and was impressed by her beauty, youth, and elegance. Auguste did enjoy the pleasures of both men
and women, yet preferred being married to a woman, if for nothing more than the
confusion it created in the media and in the fashion industry. It was that
confusion or deception he very much enjoyed.
Des Vosges
needed and wanted a new wife and Trophy seemed perfect to fill the spot. He fully knew she was merely looking for a
rich husband, but then, he was merely looking for an appropriate,
beautiful, young wife. Neither might be
seen as ideal to most people, but they both lived in a world where one’s own immediate
desires trumped all else.
By the time they finished dessert, Auguste was already
considering the next pre-nuptial agreement.
Leaving the restaurant and returning to des Vosges’ Bentley,
Trophy smiled and agreed to accompany him to The Hamptons and his estate. On the drive, Trophy found Auguste to be
quite romantic and physical. Deep
passionate kisses were followed by his lips exploring her neck and ears. Trophy was thrilled and confused, but was
enjoying herself too much to stop Auguste’s advances.
Auguste’s estate was magnificent and had been designed to
highlight his extensive contemporary art collection. The master bedroom suite was enormous, larger
than most apartments in which Trophy had lived.
There were two bathrooms off the bedroom, one in white marble and the
other in black. Auguste gently directed
Trophy to the bed while helping her remove her clothing. By the time they reached the bed itself,
Trophy was standing nude in front of him.
He gasped quietly at her perfect body and skin as he laid her back on
the soft sheets.
One thing Trophy learned that night, regardless of the
stories she had heard about Auguste, was that he was a masterful lover with
women. Not only was he wealthier and
more famous than Hiram, he was almost as good a lover as Roman.
She spent the night with him in his bed and awakened to
Auguste softly kissing her nude body. He
seemed to be insatiable and he clearly desired her. Who was she to refuse? Auguste was far more than she could ever hope
for and far less work to obtain.
After the pleasure of the morning, Auguste summoned the
staff to bring coffee and fruit to them on the balcony off the bedroom which
overlooked the pool and gardens of the estate.
Auguste got up and walked outside nude, completely unconcerned. Trophy asked if a robe was available and
Auguste quickly retrieved a fresh, beautiful, midnight-blue silk robe with the red
AdV logo embroidered beautifully on the left breast.
The staff brought the coffee and fruit to them, the weather
was perfect that morning and Auguste asked Trophy if she might like to join him
in a morning swim?
There was a discreetly hidden staircase off the bedroom
balcony leading down to the pool area.
Auguste dove into the beautiful blue water and began swimming laps back
and forth. Trophy stood next to the pool
watching Auguste and was unsure as to what she should do next.
“Please, my Sweet, join me in a swim.”
Trophy looked around to see if any of the staff was present
and then quickly slipped off the robe and jumped into the pool with Auguste. Auguste’s attention immediately shifted from
his swimming to Trophy. He took her in
his arms telling her, yet again, just how beautiful and desirable she was. He kissed her passionately and deeply on the
mouth. Trophy felt herself weaken into
his embrace, letting her body relax into his hold on her. Was she in love? Trophy didn’t think she even believed in love
anymore. There was no doubt, though,
that Auguste was a very charming and very wealthy man. Did she really need any more than that, she
mused? Trophy was still impressed and
aroused by Auguste’s physique. He was so
handsome that even standing in the pool nude and wet, as he was now, he still
looked as if he could walk into a formal event and fit in beautifully.
Auguste led Trophy out of the pool to a waiting table shaded
by a yellow umbrella. Sitting on the
table was yet another bottle of champagne on ice. “When had it been delivered?” Trophy pondered,
but she had seen no one besides the two of them by the pool. Auguste’s staff was nothing if not
discreet. Auguste poured the already
opened bottle into two exquisite flutes both bearing the AdV mark. As they sat there naked enjoying the warm,
sunny morning and the sparkling glass of joy, Auguste passed a bowl of sweet,
juicy, fresh blackberries to Trophy and said, “Ma cheri, I have found myself
quite enchanted by you. I have been
watching you for some time and am thankful you are no longer married to
another, especially that child, Roman.
It is time you take a serious step and look to someone like me. Well, actually, someone exactly like me, for
your future. I do believe you should be
mine, but I must ask you one question before we go any further with this. Having lived in America and dated many women,
I just want to be certain you do not harbor any of these silly, little-girl American
fantasies about faithfulness and monogamy in marriage.”
Trophy was nearly speechless, but managed to compose herself
enough to reply, “Never. Our
relationship and who we sleep with are two very separate things. I crave safety and stability in my
life. I do enjoy sex, but I too have
found pleasure with those other than my husbands in the past. No, Auguste, you need not concern yourself
with such silliness from me.”
Auguste smiled broadly and relaxed in his chair. The sun was shining, his search for a new
wife seemed to be fulfilled, and the champagne was excellent as always. Auguste dealt directly with the winery in the
Champagne region of France and shipped the bottles to the US only on his own
private jets, ensuring they were handled correctly and never allowed to become
too warm so as to lose their delicate flavors and aromas.
He looked across the table at Trophy, the woman most likely
to be his next wife. Auguste enjoyed sex
with both men and women, well, mostly men, but still found women to be
beautiful and alluring. Sex was sex to
Auguste, the beauty of the partner mattered, but not their sexual organs.
Auguste admired Trophy’s nude body once again and said, “Is there
anywhere you need to be today?”
“No, I have no plans through the weekend.”
“Then why not stay here with me? Let’s
make this a mini-vacation for the two of us.
My chef was trained in France and can cook as well as any of the top
restaurants in Europe. We can eat,
drink, and make love for the next five days.
We should spend at least a week together before we formalize any plans
of being together as a couple, don’t you think?”
Trophy smiled and replied, “Why yes, I think that is an excellent idea!”
Trophy let out a sigh and relaxed back in the lounge chair
into which she had moved. She allowed
her nude body to bask in the morning sun while she continued enjoying the
excellent champagne with Auguste.
Auguste excused himself and returned to the staircase that
ascended to his (‘their?’) bedroom suite.
Trophy picked up her mobile phone and immediately called Sandra J. “Sandra, you won’t believe where I am and
what happened last night?” Still in
shock, Trophy retold the events of the last twelve hours, hardly believing them
herself. Sandra replied,
“Wonderful. I am not overly surprised,
des Vosges has been asking about you for quite some time now.”
Trophy hesitated, “He has? Why have you
not told me this before?”
“Because, my dear, you were married to my brother! I have some loyalty and scruples,
after all.”
Trophy just laid back and smiled. What difference did the past make now. She let her imagination run wild over the fantasies
of what her life would be like as Mrs. Auguste des Vosges. Did she really care with whom Auguste
slept? Not really, she thought. Just looking around this estate, Trophy knew
she could be quite satisfied and happy here.
Auguste seemed to be all she needed and could provide her with the
attention she craved.
The next five days wafted by like a dream. As Auguste said, it was filled with the best
food, the finest wine, and amazing sex.
Trophy rarely dressed as they were either swimming, bathing, or having
sex together.
Finally, things changed one morning when Auguste wakened
Trophy with a kiss. As Trophy opened her
eyes she saw Auguste was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. “Is something wrong?” she asked.
“I need to go into the city, my love. I will be gone for a couple of days and
staying at my apartment there. Would
you like to join me in the drive or would you prefer staying here at the
house?”
“Ah, Auguste. You treat me divinely. I’m not sure how to even answer such a
question. I suppose I should return to
my apartment and reality and take care of a few things. How soon before you need to leave?”
“Take your time, my darling. I’m the boss, everything besides you can
wait.”
They returned to the city and Trophy to her modest
apartment, but her contact with Auguste continued. He was constantly showering her with gifts of
clothing, perfume and taking her to special events and dinners in New York City.
Several gloriously, decadent, and playful weeks went by in
the company of Auguste. Photos of the
two of them were regularly seen on Page Six.
Trophy’s head was constantly spinning as he introduced her to his
private couture salon. She rarely wore
anything not emblazoned with the AdV logo, somewhere on the dress,
blouse, skirt or jacket. The relationship
foreplay ended one beautiful evening when Auguste suggested they return to La Place
Vaucluse for dinner. It was a quiet
Tuesday night when Auguste’s driver dropped them off in front of the elegant
dining establishment. The doorman smiled
broadly as he held the door for the beautiful couple. Gerard, the maître d’, approached and quickly
led them into a totally empty dining room, elegantly decorated with candelabras
and red roses on each table with every candle lit. The crystal chandeliers cast a romantic glow
across the empty room. In the center of
the room was “Auguste’s Table” beautifully set for just the two of them. As they sat down, Trophy looked at Auguste
and asked the obvious question, “Where is everyone? Why is the restaurant
empty?” “My dear, I have closed it
tonight for all guests other than the two of us. This is a very special evening and I needed
a very special place to take you.”
The waiter brought over yet another bottle of champagne,
one, from a winery, Trophy suspected, Auguste owned as well. Along with the champagne the waiter placed a
dozen PEI oysters for them to share. Auguste
gazed into Trophy’s beautiful blue eyes and said, “Yes, my dear, I am trying to
seduce you tonight. If the champagne and
the oysters are not enough, I have something more for you.” With that, Auguste reached into his pocket
and pulled out a small box. “My love,
will you fulfill my dreams and become my wife?”
He opened the box revealing a ring with a large, almost obscenely large,
red ruby surrounded by several brilliant white diamonds. Trophy had never seen anything like it before
and had never met a woman with a similar ring.
For a moment she wished the restaurant was
filled with patrons so she could show it off to everyone and note the envy that
would be displayed on the faces of every woman in the room.
Auguste suggested, for the wedding, they have just a small
gathering of close friends and hold it at the Hampton estate. As much as Trophy wanted a large, elaborate
wedding with a custom dress, she also felt grateful this had all happened so
quickly and easily. After all, this was
her third marriage. She could tell this
is what Auguste wanted and Trophy was only too happy to comply.
“My dear, please return[TM2]
home with me tonight so this romantic evening may continue.”
Trophy resigned herself to Auguste’s desires, letting him
make all of the decisions. She sat
admiring and ogling the magnificent ring on her finger and felt she had finally
obtained that which she desired in life.
Trophy was finally at the very top of the social ladder, she was now the
woman all others would envy and covet.
Trophy returned to Auguste’s Hamptons estate, remaining
there for several more days.
She finally called her mother to break the wonderful
news.
Auguste and Trophy met with Auguste’s attorney to review the
pre-nuptial agreement. As Trophy read
through it, she saw it was fairly standard and very similar to her agreement
with Hiram. As was true with the prior
agreement, Trophy had no claim to any of Auguste’s estate until they had been
married ten years. One substantial
change in this agreement, from the prior, was Trophy was now to get a much more
generous monthly allowance of $100,000.
Auguste’s attorney also verbally pointed out, “Madame, you will note
there is no fidelity clause in this agreement.
If you accept that, please initial here.”
Trophy smiled to herself and happily signed the document. Shortly thereafter the small wedding was
planned.
One month later, standing in the gardens of the Hamptons estate,
Auguste and Trophy became Mr. and Mrs. Auguste des Vosges. Trophy’s only guests were her mother and her
best friend, Sandra J.
As a surprise, Auguste arranged to have music provided by
Alberto Veneto, a most popular singer with an operatic voice. It was extremely beautiful and romantic. After the ceremony,
Trophy said to Auguste, “I love this house and estate. Everything here is so beautiful.”
“Yes, my love, it is beautiful.
My ex-wife did an excellent job overseeing its design and construction.”
YIKES, that was more than Trophy could stand. She would NOT live in the house of the
previous wife. Her first objective was
to convince Auguste they needed a new estate in the country. One on which she could leave her own imprint. Her second objective was to negate a
substantial portion of the pre-nuptial and she now knew exactly how to make
that happen. In fact, she could even cleverly
tie the two objectives together.
St.
John’s Chapel: Present Day
Trophy recalled just how good Auguste was to her, how
perfect everything seemed to be. She realized
that Auguste fulfilled her dreams. He
was dashingly handsome, fit, charming, passionate, and extremely wealthy. Yes, he was all she could ever have hoped
for. Yet, even with so perfect a man, it
was still not enough for her. She
thought back to those moments when she felt he was losing his focus on her and
how she would create drama within their marriage in an attempt to once again
make her the center of the universe. How
could she have had everything, and yet it still be not enough? She contemplated.
Auguste
des Vosges: 13 years earlier
Mr. and Mrs. des Vosges left on their honeymoon to the south
of France spending time on a friend’s yacht, initially docked off St.
Tropez. They spent two weeks sailing the
Mediterranean Sea, including stops at Cinque Terre, Portofino, Capri, Cannes and
Monte Carlo. Trophy was completely
enchanted. It seemed wherever they
visited, Auguste knew people who invited them to their various estates, or onto
their own yachts for lunch, dinner, or merely an afternoon glass of rosé
wine, olives, and almonds.
As she basked in the sun and the beauty of the Med, Trophy
began planning her next move. She
realized she needed to have a child. A
child would negate most of the pre-nuptial agreement. She also knew she had no desire to carry the
baby herself. There was absolutely no
way Trophy would allow her body to go through the damage of pregnancy. This trip allowed her time to plan.
One night over a quiet dinner on the outside back deck of Auguste’s
ship, Trophy looked deeply into his eyes and said, “My love, I want a
baby. Let’s make a baby together. Don’t you want a son or daughter of your own,
to carry on your legacy?”
“Trophy, is this truly what you want? Am I not enough for you?”
“Of course you are, my angel. I merely
think a child would give us both a legacy.”
“Are you prepared for what this means to both of us? I find it difficult to imagine you being
pregnant and carrying a baby for nine months.”
“Oh my, Auguste….. I would not subject either of us to that kind of
stress. I have another idea. Let’s go to a fertility doctor who can take
my eggs and your semen, combine them, and then hire a surrogate to carry our
baby. Once born, we will have a nanny
care for the child. Doesn’t that sound beautiful?”
Auguste chuckled and replied, “Yes, my lovely wife, that does sound like a
marvelous idea. I think neither of us
would like to see your perfect body ravaged by the demands of pregnancy.”
“And Auguste…..
might we also begin looking for our own home. A house for you, me and our child? Not the house of your prior life, but our
house.” The current house is so cold
looking inside. I want a home that feels
like a home, not an art museum. Trophy
subtly tensed as she waited for his reaction to this request. She didn’t want to push him too far too quickly,
but she knew she could not live in that house much longer, the house of
the previous Mrs. des Vosges.
Auguste became very pensive and quiet and Trophy became
concerned she had just made a big mistake.
He finally stopped looking beyond her and once again looked deeply into
her eyes and said, “Trophy, I just want you to be happy. I understand your discomfort with the current
house and I would love to see what type of home you would create for the two of
us, as well as our child.
Ah, such sweet music to Trophy’s ears. In one deft motion she had accomplished both
her objectives. She was the queen and
the focus would remain on her. Now to
find a fertility doctor, surrogate and a new house. She would be busy, but she was getting
exactly what she wanted.
After their yacht returned to St. Tropez, Auguste and Trophy
flew off to Paris for several days. They
stayed in the Bernstein suite at the Hotel Crillon on the Place de la
Concorde. While there they dined in
luxury at Les Ambassadeurs within the hotel and also at the famous,
Michelin-starred, Taillevent, off the Champs-Élysées. Wherever they went, des Vosges was warmly
received. They shopped in the boutiques
along Rue du Faubourg Saint Honoré.,
where anything Trophy admired, Auguste purchased for her. It was a fantasy come true.
Upon returning home, Trophy immediately began looking for a
fertility doctor who could help them with their child. Now, finding a doctor in New York City is
about as difficult as finding concrete.
After putting the word out among Auguste’s friends, a fertility doctor was
quickly identified and the appropriate appointments set. He also helped with the surrogate. Within a month, Trophy underwent the
procedure to harvest her eggs and Auguste willingly donated his sperm. By the end of the second month, a surrogate
was now carrying their baby. The
other “Hampton wives” (like Trophy, chosen more for their beauty and cunning than
anything else) quickly organized a baby shower for her. There was nothing Trophy enjoyed more than
being the center of attention and being adored and envied by all. Several of the wives complimented Trophy on
her decision to use a surrogate and bemoaned the fact they had not thought of
it first.
“Yes, my body will never be the same after my children were
born. No matter how much I diet and
exercise, I am still flabby where I would rather be taut” was the oft-heard
complaint of many of the wives. The
fear, of course, is they would be replaced by someone younger and more
beautiful if they did not remain physically desirable. This
is the life they had all chosen, though, and having their babies ensured far
more future security than not having them.
Motherhood was of little interest to any of them, the baby was merely their
insurance policy against totally losing their luxuriant lifestyle. After all, once the baby was born it was the
responsibility of the nanny, not the mother.
As far as the house, Trophy began working with a realtor who
specialized in Hampton estates and she found several she liked, providing she could
find the ideal decorator afterward.
Once the realtor knew the des Vosges family would be moving, she quickly
identified a buyer for their current estate.
Before their home was even on the market, their realtor presented them
with an acceptable offer and they found themselves too quickly in escrow.
Needing a place to live and with Auguste’s apartment in the
city not nearly large enough, Trophy suggested they take an apartment in the
Pierre Hotel, one of the most exclusive addresses in the city. She could be the Queen of the Pierre while
their new home in the Hamptons was being made ready.
Once they moved into The Pierre, Trophy began “holding
court” every evening in the hotel lounge.
She would assemble many of her girlfriends and fashion industry insiders
to enjoy cocktails and hors d’oeuvres. Much like she was la grande dame of La
Cote Rouge, she now held a similar position in the hotel lounge of The Pierre
each evening.
Her status was disrupted one night as everyone was gathered
around her table, enjoying a cocktail and telling Trophy, yet again, how
beautiful she was. Something suddenly changed in the room. The discussion buzz lessened and all heads
turned toward the entry of the lounge. There stood Genviève Garnier, the wife of Henri
Garnier, owner of the French Luxury Fashion and Wine empire Luxe. Luxe was one of the largest, publicly
traded corporations in France, it rivaled many US tech companies in sales,
profits and stock value. Several times,
Henri had unsuccessfully attempted to buy out the des Vosges brand from
Auguste. Genviève was originally a French film star before attracting the
eye of Henri Garnier. Henri wasted no
time in adding this magnificently beautiful star to his collection of luxury
brands. Who better to show off his
leather products, clothing, purses, perfumes, and wines?
Genviève looked around the room, saw Trophy, and began walking gracefully
to her table. Trophy shifted
uncomfortably in her seat hoping Genviève would change direction and sit elsewhere. Genviève was one of the few women in the
world who could upstage Trophy. For that
reason alone, Trophy despised her. Before
Genviève
could officially join Trophy’s circle, forcing Trophy to acknowledge her, Trophy
quickly gathered her things and excused herself, stating she had dinner plans
with Auguste at La Place Vaucluse.
Trophy eventually found an exquisite estate not far from
Auguste’s prior home. They quickly
purchased it and Trophy hired one of the top decorators in New York. “Once completed, our home must be
featured in Architectural Digest,” she told the designer. Everyone must see and envy her new home. This was a requirement given to the decorator
before the contract was signed. Of
course, being the home of Auguste des Vosges made that a rather easy
requirement to fulfill. Everyone would
want a peek into the lavish lifestyle of this fashion icon!
Everything moved along quickly and before they she knew it
they had moved into their new home and suddenly there was also the addition of
a baby. Their son Richard (pronounced in
the French manner of Ree-shar) but informally called Ricky, was now also part
of their life. The house was magnificent
yet felt far more of a home than the prior house. Although merely an infant, Richard’s room was
in a separate wing of the mansion along with the bedroom of his nanny. Richard’s room came with a large walk-in
closet (larger than some entire apartments in Manhattan) and was already filled
with clothing from Auguste’s children’s line.
Trophy reveled in being a mother, even though she had few
actual responsibilities. She would never
consider changing a diaper or even bathing the little one, yet she proudly
pushed him in his pram or carried him to every event to which she was invited and
showed him off, making her, along with Ricky, the center of attention and adoration. Wherever they went, the nanny was also
present to deal with any issue Trophy would rather simply ignore. He was an adorable little man and also gave
Trophy some of the security she constantly craved.
St.
John’s Chapel: Present Day
As Trophy
reflected on that time in life, her new wealthy husband, magnificent home, and beautiful
child, it would seem she had everything she could possibly want. Yet she still did not feel comfortable and
able to relax and enjoy her life. She always
seemed to be waiting for the proverbial “other shoe” to drop and “never enough”
always seemed to apply to the amount of attention she received.
Auguste
des Vosges: 11 years earlier
In spite of
Trophy’s seemingly wonderful life, she still harbored many insecurities. She knew she should be happy and satisfied
with her husband, son, home, social life, and so forth, but she had wanted
“more” for so long it was as an addiction and she could not control
herself.
In April,
Auguste told Trophy he would travel to Paris and Milan for fashion shows in
September. Trophy asked if she could
accompany him on the trip. Auguste
hesitated and said it would be mostly work and he would not really have time
for her.
Trophy knew
the real reason was that Auguste usually used these trips to spend his personal
time with various male models and other gay male workers in the fashion
industry. She also knew he used his
small apartment in the city for various gay trysts.
Trophy knew
full well who and what Auguste was when she married him, yet suddenly, she
found herself being very jealous. Her
time with Auguste was simply not enough and she did not want to share him,
especially with men. She knew she could
compete sexually and physically with other women, but competing with men was a
problem. Trophy began sinking into a
malaise and feeling very sorry for herself.
She called
Sandra J. and whined and complained to her for a while. “Trophy, are you kidding me? Look at your life, you are living the dream
of all women. You’re beautiful, your
husband is rich, handsome and adores you, you have a wonderful son, you have
zero real responsibilities and you married Auguste knowing full well he enjoys
the company of men. Now, suddenly, none
of that is enough to make you happy.
Trophy, what is it you want exactly?”
“<sigh>
I don’t really know, I just don’t want Auguste to take this trip. I don’t want to be alone.”
“Trophy, let it go. Take your son and
his nanny and go on your own trip. Don’t
risk everything you have worked so hard to obtain.”
Yes, it all
made a lot of sense, but Trophy had never been one to live by logic and reason,
living in her emotions was just so much more satisfying and, well, dramatic!
The next
morning Trophy decided not to get out of bed.
She lay there and professed to not feeling well with no specific
symptoms. Auguste suggested she call a
doctor and went off to work in the city.
Knowing she could not continue indefinitely with a “mystery illness” she
researched various ailments on the internet.
By chance she looked up the symptoms of a problematic gall bladder. As she read through the symptoms, they all
seemed quite non-specific. She decided to adopt and complain of these various
symptoms hoping Auguste would stay with her and send someone else on the
European trip.
Auguste was
properly concerned of her health and decided to take Trophy into Manhattan to
see a specialist. After running a
variety of tests, the physician sat down with both Trophy and Auguste and said,
“I can find nothing wrong with Trophy, in general or specifically with her gall
bladder.”
“Doctor, you must have missed something,” Trophy declared, “I am in constant
pain and my symptoms match exactly with the list I found on a medical
website. Can’t my gall bladder be
removed to simply rule this out?”
“Trophy, certainly you don’t want to undergo the risk of surgery on a mere
suspicion of a problem. That just isn’t
how we do things. Again, I can find
nothing wrong with you.”
Trophy was
furious. She had now committed herself
to this path and backing down would be disastrous in changing Auguste’s mind
about the trip. She decided to visit
other doctors and try to find one who would agree with her diagnosis.
After the
visit to the first specialist, Auguste quickly grew tired of her complaints and
her desire to see other doctors. One
additional opinion would have been fine, but as Trophy visited doctor after
doctor, Auguste simply focused on the upcoming trip and shows.
Finally,
Trophy found a doctor who was willing to listen, and with a small bribe agreed
that surgery was a good idea. The date of the surgery was strategically set a mere
two days before Auguste was to depart from the US.
Begrudgingly, Auguste went with Trophy to the hospital along
with Sandra J. Visiting her there,
Auguste finally had to excuse himself to return home to make final preparations
for the trip.
“Certainly you are not leaving me here alone!” cried
Trophy! “I’m having surgery tomorrow,
I need you here!”
“Trophy, I’ve tried to be very patient and understanding, but
surgery or no surgery, I have to make this trip. You are in good hands here, you will be well
cared for. To be honest, I’m still not
even certain why this surgery is taking place.”
Sandra J. was again in shock from Trophy’s behavior. Sandra suspected this all to be merely more
contrived drama. Yes, Sandra J. was a
little jealous of Trophy, but she had also fully realized just how empty and
pitiful Trophy truly was. She cared less
and less about their friendship and decided to speak her mind. “Trophy, drop this charade NOW! Don’t risk your entire life and happiness
over yet another drama point. Listen,
you are NOT the center of the universe, look at everything you have a be
grateful. You knew exactly who Auguste
was when you married him and now you want him to be something else. If he leaves you, which is exactly what I
would do in his shoes, you’ll be left with almost nothing. Even having a child will not bring you the
life you desire.”
Trophy was livid and especially because she was being called
out by the person she had always viewed as her best friend. Trophy began yelling and screaming at Sandra
J., calling her a variety of names and vowing to destroy Sandra’s career.
Trophy turned away and sulked silently. Auguste was still leaving on his trip and now
Sandra J. was no longer her friend. Her plan had failed miserably and now she
was committed to a surgery where they would cut into her perfect body and leave
a couple of small scars. She was angry
with Auguste and with Sandra J. yet equally angry with herself, but changing
course at this point would potentially create irreparable long-term damage
between her and Auguste. She would have
the surgery, Auguste would go to Europe and she would stay home and be upset
and angry. She had clearly lost this
round and she would not be foolish enough to try this tactic again. She also knew she must get revenge on Sandra
J. for betraying her.
Auguste flew off to Paris and Trophy’s surgery went ahead as
planned. Trophy struggled through the
recovery and was extremely unhappy at the dietary restrictions she had to
follow post-surgery. It was fortunate
for Auguste that he was so far away and did not have to listen to her constant
complaining.
St.
John’s Chapel: Present Day
Trophy let out a big sigh and she thought about that dramatic
mistake. Two good things did come out of
the error, though. The first was that
Auguste did not seem to hold anything against her, he returned from his trip as
loving and thoughtful as ever. The
second and most important epiphany was Trophy learned from this mistake and
began appreciating all she had just a little more than before. She worked hard at presenting a more even and
calm personality. She tried to focus her
efforts on Richard’s life, trying to take at least some parental responsibility
for him. He was growing rapidly and was
an amazingly smart and sweet little boy.
Even more surprising was that he seemed to adore his mother.
She reflected on her successes at disrupting Sandra J.’s
modeling career. Auguste had made
several calls to various booking agencies and, for a time, Sandra J. had difficulty
finding work. But, with her resume and
credentials, the problems were short-lived and Sandra J. actually experienced
even greater success than before. This
distressed Trophy and upset her that she no longer had her friend at her
side.
Life with Auguste and Richard was good and Trophy
intellectually knew it to be true.
Emotionally, she still had to battle her obsessive need for
attention. She knew she could take a
lover if she chose, but was too afraid she might fall for him and she would
destroy her relationship with Auguste.
She could not risk returning to a life of struggle and anonymity. Even having Richard would not fully insure her
current, luxurious lifestyle.
So, in spite of herself, Trophy had seemingly, finally, grown
up. She was taking a good try at
self-respect and being appreciative and happy for all she did have. She could also see the minor signs of aging
on her face and body and was still especially angry at the small scars
constantly reminding her of her foolish tantrum that led to the gall bladder
surgery.
Just as Trophy was finally “happy” the worst imaginable thing
happened. Auguste was diagnosed with
pancreatic cancer. Her handsome, viral, wonderful
husband had only weeks to live. The
grief that hit Trophy was such that she could barely function. In no time at all, Auguste was confined to a
bed in a hospital and Trophy could only helplessly watch him deteriorate. It was then she seemed to finally realize the
true meaning of the word “love.” She did
love Auguste and she knew he loved her.
It was so ironic. In
many ways, sitting here in St. John’s Chapel was the culmination of her
ambitions and dreams. Her rich husband
was dead and she would receive the bulk of the estate. She was now a wildly wealthy single woman and
yet it seemed to mean nothing to her.
Her great love was dead and nothing she could say or do could bring him
back. She thought of the quote from
Capote’s Answer Prayers, “More tears are shed for Answered Prayers than
Unanswered Prayers.” Her prayers had
been answered, she was now exactly in the position she had once yearned for,
yet she was devastated and heart-broken.
She finally reached into her small purse, withdrew a fine handkerchief
and began to weep.
She allowed herself only about one minute to grieve, then
gathered her few things and moved to the place of honor in the front row, next
to Richard. She turned and bravely
smiled at those who had been invited to the service.
As she turned briefly to look where she was about to sit she noticed
Henri Garnier entering the chapel. What
surprised Trophy was that he was alone, Genviève was not with him. She weakly smiled at Henri and then slowly
sat down on the pew.
The service, of course, was quite lovely and Trophy’s heart
was full. After the service a reception
and lunch for the guests had been arranged at La Place Vaucluse. Trophy was driven in the Bentley to the
restaurant where she and Auguste had enjoyed their first date.
La Place Vaucluse: Present Day:
Trophy stood bravely just inside the entrance of the restaurant
and accepted the condolences of those who were at the chapel. The last person in the line was Henri Garnier
who she noticed was speaking into his mobile phone.
As Henri approached her, he dropped his phone into his pocket
and took her hand. As he offered his
words of comfort, he seemed to stare a little too deeply and longingly into her
eyes.
“What was that all about,” Trophy thought, “and where is
Genviève?”
Her question was answered very shortly when she saw Genviève enter the restaurant.
Obviously, she wasn’t interested in being at the service but felt an “appearance”
was still necessary. As she swept into
the beautiful room, she worked her way through the people, almost demanding
their attention and adoration. Trophy was
furious and her only thought was, “That BITCH! How dare she enter MY restaurant
on this, of all days, and take the spotlight away from me!”
As Genviève moved elegantly through the room,
charming the guests, Trophy noticed Henri sitting alone at one of the
tables. A devious smile crossed Trophy’s
lips as she walked toward his table.
Henri’s eyes lit up when he noticed her approach. He stood, bowed slightly and said, “My dear
Madame des Vosges. You look so beautiful
and it pains me that such a lovely woman is so sad.”
“Henri, you bring a smile to my face on this tragic day. Actually, I need some advice from you.”
“Yes, and how can I help you?”
“This may not be the time or place for this conversation, but I am now the
owner of one of the largest fashion houses in the world. Might you offer me any ideas as to how I
should proceed?”
“Why yes, of course, Madame, when and where might we talk?”
“How about next Thursday? Why don’t we
meet at my home in the Hamptons? Come
for a swim?” She added, smiling almost wickedly
Henri smiled broadly and replied, “excellent, I would enjoy that very much.”
Trophy quickly glanced across the room and then touched Henri
gently on his arm. She leaned in closely
and said, “Why Henri, I think we can build something quite beautiful together,
don’t you?”
This
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales,
and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a
fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual
events is purely coincidental.
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