Page 3 of Falling for the Wife

We had graduated last week, and the three of us would be spending our summer on the French Riviera with Ethan Rinaldi, Blair’s brother, as our chaperone. Vivienne’s grandfather owned this gargantuan super yacht, and we were all looking forward to a fun-filled break lounging and partying before going to Stanford.

Tonight would culminate in letting go of the old me and my unhealthy obsession with Jared. Once I’d accomplished bumping uglies with his truly, I was setting myself free so I could engage in a normal, healthy two-way relationship. So yes, this was a essential step to get where I needed to be in life. Like a stepping-stone, if you will, but with a penis involved.

Tonight, I was supposed to be a twenty-five-year-old socialite who’d recently come back from South Africa after doing charity work for her father’s foundation. That was all I knew, and I supposed I simply had to improvise the rest, ensuring Jared would bite the bait I’d cast. Although I had no firsthand experience in the art of seduction, I had seen enough movies, read enough smut, to figure out how to catch a man’s attention.

Tonight was my night. No matter what happened next, I was going to get Jared to notice me.

CHAPTER2

Gisele

“I’d whistleif I knew how to,” Vivienne remarked, pale blue eyes roving over me with approval. “You look like one of those Bond girls—a sexy smoking gun with a lot of spunk.”

Blair giggled as her dark eyes roved over my face, pleased with the results. “We’ve done a great job! The contouring’s superb, babe. Your ultra-defined cheekbones and nose altered your entire face. The lip trick sure makes your already plump lips have a definite edge to them.”

Exotic. It was the first thing that emerged from my mind the moment all the finishing touches were in place. There was no trace of Gisele Weber. My eyes were heavily rimmed with kohl. The facial contouring profoundly altered my features. It sharpened them. I could easily pass as Russian or Brazilian. Long, thick fake lashes. My lids were heavily painted metallic black. The black on black made mynowblue eyes glaringly pop out. It was the first thing one would immediately notice…the first thing they’d be instantly drawn to. Sensual blue eyes. They beckoned. They seared—a glance of lust, a promise of a wild night ahead.

Yes.This is definitely the look that will get his juices flowing down south.

“Good luck with mission penis du jour tonight,” Blair teased as she brushed over the long voluminous tresses that stopped five inches below my shoulders. “Don’t act innocent. Men like Jared will run the other way if he senses you’re not experienced.”

I knew him. He liked his women skilled, but I liked to refer to them as “seasoned.” I’d have expected that with someone with Jared’s IQ, it’d be about a woman’s intellect. Unfortunately, that was not the case. He was wired like the rest of the hot-blooded males, letting their mini-mes dictate their choice of mate. He’d dated movie stars, models, divorcees, teachers, and lawyers, but never a college student. The youngest he had dated was a twenty-five-year-old. Two years younger than him. But somehow, he didn’t have a specific age preference for older women. He even dated a forty-year-old once. Ahotforty-year-old knockout. Nevertheless, his tastes fell along the lines of pain and pleasure and hot and the furious (Yovanna had attested to as much in the article) and the “seasoned” women preferred it, too, or so it seemed.

Seeing that the first part of the plan was already done, the whole thing became daunting all of a sudden. A hollow knot began to form in the pit of my stomach, making me feel restless and anxious. It was silly really since I’d wanted this for so long, but now that the wheels were beginning to turn, I was a bit perplexed. As much as I thrived on positivity, this could easily become a disaster. What if he wouldn’t be able to fit? The furthest I’d gotten with a guy was second base, and I doubted fondling breasts counted, not in the league of Jared’s sexual prowess, anyway.

I let out a soft sigh, anxiously eyeing my friends. “Did it hurt? I mean, that first time?”

Vivienne thoughtfully gazed at me before pausing, seeming as though she was recalling that specific memory to mind. “It didn’t hurt…though it was uncomfortable for a bit.”

Blair snickered. “I was desperate. Desperation doesn’t hurt; I can tell you that much.”

To this day, she would never confess who the mystery man was. She came back one summer and announced she lost her V-card sailing somewhere in the Mediterranean.

She quickly glanced at her vanity watch before reverting her gaze back to us. “You have to go down first. Viv and I will follow in thirty minutes, give or take. We have to be mindful so people won’t recognize you. The last thing we need is for him to hear you’re Gisele. That’s all he needs to hear, and his balls will shrivel.”

We all cackled at the image she painted of Jared.

Everyone who was important in Silicon Valley was here tonight in Hank Rinaldi’s palatial home in Atherton. There were three stairways in this household—one for the servants to use, one for the family, and one for the public, merely for show (rarely used because Mrs. Rinaldi would have a heart attack if she spotted an outline of a footprint anywhere on her sleek polished marble). Taking the usual route via the second stairs, I slowly descended as I nervously skittered towards the rarely used passage leading to the garden. While I hadn’t run into any guests, I did, however, pass by a lot of the catering folks.

Relieved beyond comprehension, I took a moment, pausing just to recoup and recharge. My heart hammering against my chest did little to ease my tension. “Drat! Get it together,” I breathed out before resuming my steps until a voice halted me.

“Well, look at you,” a familiar voice came out of nowhere, blocking me from continuing down the long, mirrored corridor. The mystery person skirted my tensed figure, stopping right before my face. Dark eyes sparkled with mischief and whatever else I cared not to name.

This wasn’t the playboy I intended to secure attention from. “Move out of my way,” I gritted through my clenched teeth, earnestly trying not to show my irritation.

“Gisele?”Wyatt, Blair’s oldest brother, wickedly smirked before making a long, winding whistle, enthusiastically checking me from head to foot. “You’rewow!” he whistled again in disbelief. “Just. Fucking. Wow.” His eyes brightened with each word spoken.

Typical reaction coming from this man. “Oh, do shut up already, Wyatt.” I was wasting precious time conversing with him when Jared had most likely arrived. The man was never late. The party started five minutes ago, so he was out there somewhere, and I’d skin Wyatt alive if Jared was already targeted by some woman who’d want to be next on his list. Let’s face it; women used such events to snag their next trophy husband. The competition was stiff. and I’d rather not get beaten at my own game.

“Make sure to stay out of my father’s line of sight. I don’t like to see him as competition.”

“Ew, that’s sick!” I gagged, sticking my tongue out and all. I recoiled at the thought of Hank Rinaldi’s slithering eyes on me. He already had three mistresses. Surely, a man could be satisfied with his mini harem.

He cheekily winked at me, appearing not appalled at his father’s indiscretions. “He won’t know who you are, so he might get a little jiggy with it.”

“That’s not funny.” Not one little bit. “How the hell did you know it’s me, anyway?” I chose dark makeup specifically to transform my features. How in the world did Wyatt figure it out? Surely, with Jared’s sharp keenness on things, he’d immediately know, too. That was not good. Knowing such a fact made my hesitation skyrocket to obscene levels.

“Oh, honey, that perfume gave you away.” His eyes sparkled, consuming me slowly. “As you know, that night left me wanting. You’ve scarred me for life. No woman compares in my eyes.”

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