Chapter 31 #3
The couple exchanged wary looks. In one sentence, Jamie had managed to kill the lively mood at the table. No more smiles. No more jokes. No one offering Jamie any refreshments as Ira’s drink made its way to the table and sat untouched.
“Naturally,” Kathleen said, finally breaking the awkward silence. “God knows I don’t want to be no billionaire’s hausfrau.” She laughed. “I get that from my mother.”
“Well, I mostly meant… I’m no good at it, so I might as well find something else that I’m good at and can make me happy, right?”
More awkward silence.
“That’s always a good idea.”
“What?” Jamie didn’t like the nerves prickling their way up her arms. “You both agree, don’t you? That I’m not cut out for such a thing…”
“Well…”
“That’s not to say…”
“What have you heard?” Jamie placed both fists on the table, knowing fully well that she didn’t want to hear the answer, but that she had to. Paranoia wasn’t good enough. She needed to know the truth… even if she regretted asking later.
“Heard?” Kathleen wasn’t playing dumb all of a sudden, was she? “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, please, I hear people saying shit about me all the time. Problem is, I can’t deduce how much of that they actually think is true and how much of it is bullshit for their friends.
If I’m going to be the wife of one of the biggest modern businesswomen any of you know, then I need to know exactly what people think of me.
You’re both in the gossip circles, whether you like it or not.
So what is it? Am I the most embarrassing choice Etta could make? ”
“No,” Ira was quick to say. “At the end of the day, as long as you’re not a huge liability because of your scandalized family or whatever, nobody really cares who you marry. It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“Well…”
“Tell me the truth.”
Kathleen took it from there. “Wives fall under three stereotypical characters that you can be pigeonholed into.” She held up a trio of corresponding fingers.
“You’ve got your well-bred women. That’s the first one, and the one mothers are looking to marry their primary heirs to.
These are women who already come from families of means, whether more so than the other’s family or slightly less.
Either way, the woman grew up with the proper manners and has been ‘trained,’ so to speak, to run her future spouse’s household.
She’s been educated in something, whether it’s law or fashion design.
She’s probably pretty, but also likely to be average looking. ”
“Then you’ve got your working woman wife.
” Ira slapped their hand on Kathleen’s shoulder, which made her roll her eyes yet again.
She’ll go cross-eyed at this rate. “She’s either got her own business or is working for someone else.
In the latter case, it’s ideal for her to work for her natal family or, even better, her wife’s family, as long as she brings something powerful to the table.
Mothers-in-law don’t like them as much because they tend to not have as many little heirs, if any. ”
“Okay.” Jamie sighed. “I’m neither of those types. So… what’s the third one?”
Another exchange of glances.
“Come on, I can take it.”
They said it at the same time. “Trophy wife.”
“Trophy… wife?” It couldn’t be. Jamie was so not an actual trophy wife… was she? When I think trophy wife, I think skinny, blond… probably famous for something like modeling or the hottest girl in school. That’s not me!
“Trophy wife,” Kathleen reiterated.
“The most disliked type of wife there is.” Ira shook their head.
“She might make pretty kids, but she doesn’t add much to the family or business.
Someone married her because she gets them hotter than a five-alarm fire and is convinced that it’s forever love…
or so the old ones harp on about. Luckily for them, trophy wives don’t last long.
Either the successful one finally gets tired of how incompatible they are, or the wife was digging for gold and divorces after the first twenty years are up.
” Ira snorted. “I know someone like that.”
“I’m… a trophy wife…”
“Of course you’re not. In reality.”
“But it sort of is what people are saying. They don’t know you, Jamie. They don’t get that you two really are in love.”
“You think it’s obvious that we are?”
“Please,” Kathleen said, “anyone who goes to Midnight knows how to tell what’s love, what’s transient lust, and what’s got a shelf-life of five weeks. You two go well together.”
“Yes. People like us like you well enough because… well, it’s easy. There are scores more people outside of that life than there are in it, though. You don’t have to impress us. We know that nothing stops an attraction as deep as love and kink.”
“Yes. Trust us.”
“Shut up for a second.”
“Don’t tell me to shut up.”
“See what I mean?”
“Anyway.” Kathleen shrugged. “Unfortunately, the elite of the elite, especially the older ones, think you’re a trophy wife. They’re writing you off as the trial first wife. Some are taking bets… sorry to have to tell you that.”
“Go… on…”
“They’re taking bets on how long you’ll be married,” Ira finished.
“I see. So, what’s the pool?”
The two of them tried talking at the same time. Ira conceded to their girlfriend, who looked Jamie in the eye and said, “If you ask me, it’s not worth trying to impress those people. They’re going to think what they think no matter what.”
“On the other hand,” Ira cut in, “there is a lot to be said for a businesswoman at Etta’s level who has a strong wife in the wings. She doesn’t have to be Mrs. Elizabeth Mansion Maintainer, but it’s a bonus if she knows what she’s about and how to handle herself in most social situations.”
“You mean how I totally botched shit at Hyacinth Winston’s?”
“Yeah, that wasn’t good.”
“I almost died of second-hand embarrassment when I heard about it.”
“We went to her school, the Winston Academy, you know.”
“Went? We met there.”
“You can change your fate,” Ira continued. “I’ve seen it happen before. There are ‘trophy wives’ who went on to become well-respected women in their communities.”
“Like who?” Jamie felt like she was watching some late-night infomercial promising her the secrets of success. For only $19.99 a month, I too can learn how to not be made a mockery of the day I get back from my honeymoon.
Jamie often heard that couples developed silent languages after a while.
She wasn’t sure if she could say that about her and Etta, but it was possible, she supposed.
At any rate, she had no idea what Ira and Kathleen were saying as they gazed into one another’s eyes.
Debating, probably. They seemed keen on doing that.
“What do you say, lovely?” Ira asked, their grin reappearing. “Should she meet the greatest trophy wife either of us has ever known?”
Kathleen leaned against the table, resigned. “Depends on how much we like her.”
They then looked at Jamie. What in the world was she getting into?