As much as I had enjoyed seeing Niall again and as much as I enjoyed last night, doing it again would be too risky. I needed money, but I got way too close to exposing my secret to him. Overall, however, the night was a success. I got the watch, I had fun, he still didn't know my secret and last night had put me in a great mood. It had broken a dry spell and honestly, anything that took my mind off of the mess that was my finances was a welcome treat. The events of the past couple of months since Russell’s death had taken a toll on my self-esteem. Feeling desirable, sexy, and being able to give into a night of fun with a beautiful man felt like a conventional pleasure that I deserved once in a while.
I felt a lot of things after last night, but regret was not one of them. I was single and both of us wanted it, maybe me even more than him. I got out of bed and headed to the shower to wash off. I was so knackered when I got in last night that I went straight to bed. I was kind of sad to be washing off Niall's scent, but the shower was refreshing. I made liberal use of Missy’s fancy scented gels and potions, washing my hair as well. After getting dressed and pampering a little, I made my way downstairs.
The scent of breakfast hit me as soon as I opened up the door. My mouth watered and my stomach rumbled as I made my way to the kitchen. I hadn't eaten dinner last night, not smart, given how much I had drunk.
“Good morning Greta,” I said walking into the kitchen. Missy's cook, Greta greeted me with a smile.
“Good morning, Ms. Nicholas,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”
“I slept wonderfully, thank you. What a fantastic surprise,” I said approaching the breakfast table. It was fantastic, a veritable feast. There were plates of fresh, sliced fruit, an array of pastries, sausage, and bacon. Missy and I were going to be the only two eating, but there was enough food on the table for a family of four or five. Greta asked me whether I wanted some tea or coffee. I told her that I would be all right with some juice. She served me as I sat and tucked into a still-warm croissant. This used to be the life that I had.
Before money got tight, Russell and I could afford to be extravagant. Missy still lived this way while it was rare for me now. Usually, experiencing Missy’s lifestyle while I was now removed from it jarred me but for once, I didn't feel guilty at the thought of indulging. Not having it had made me grateful for what I had once taken for granted. I hadn't really grown up with the type of luxuries that I was afforded after marrying Russell, but the years with Russell, unhappy as they were at times, had been abundant.
You know what? While I was here, I deserved this too. Who knew when the next time I would be able to eat so well would be? I dug in, trying a little bit of everything. Missy joined in as I was serving bacon on to my plate.
“Up already?” she asked breezing into the kitchen. Missy was every bit the London socialite. She had come from money and lived a life of leisure. While she technically had a job, she wasn't the type that needed to present a CV when she was looking for employment. She was a creative director at a fashion magazine, a job that she had gotten through one of her parents' many connections. Her hours, putting it lightly, were flexible. Mostly she spent her time vacationing, attending events, and looking beautiful.
I both did and did not envy her lifestyle. Who didn’t want that? To live life one hundred percent carefree and indulgent? On the other hand, I wondered whether she ever got bored. If she did, the world was quite literally her oyster and she could do anything. That was what I envied the most, the freedom. The ability to be carefree especially since the last couple months since my husband had died had been such a struggle.
“Don't you have a job?” I asked. She waved her hand at me impatiently as she sat.
“This is the first time I'm seeing you in the months and you want to talk about work? You walked out on me last night.”
“I had some business to attend to.”
“Hm, business,” she said. I had told her a little white lie about what it was I was doing the night before. I didn't feel good about it, but I felt worse about telling her the truth. My pride was all I had left. She knew that I was struggling and she had offered help at every turn. Help usually meant money, but I was not prepared to accept her charity. Staying over at her house already felt like I was overstepping sometimes. I didn't want her to know the worst of it because then she would feel sorry for me. I despised pity, even from Missy, my closest friend. I never wanted to experience that. So, I fudged the truth a little bit.
“That's right. Business.”
She pursed her lips then took a bite of buttered toast. Even doing that, she managed to look glamorous. She was in a black, sheer robe that brushed along the floor as she walked. Without makeup, her skin had a beautiful,
