A Kept Woman Read Online Free PDF Page B

bored.
     
    ‘I’d like to throw a party,’ she announced that night when Ernie returned.
    Her husband looked at her absently. Diana had hardly been around the house since they’d arrived, and that was just fine by him. At work there was so much waste, so many bodies not making the sales, not pulling their weight. He was busy trying to work out who to fire first. His revolution was blasting away the corporate cobwebs, and that was exhilarating. Let Diana do her thing, as long as she didn’t bother him too much. She never had when they were dating. Why should things change now they were married?
    . ‘Party. Is it necessary?’ Ernie sighed. ‘I’ve got things to
    do.’
    ‘I know you do, darling. You’re being so clever. But things like that help with the business. You needn’t plan it, just keep the twenty-first free. And I’ll need some money, of course.’
    ‘Surprise.’ Ernie grunted.
    Diana pouted. ‘But darling, it’ll be so impressive.’
    It was the way to his heart; or at least to his wallet. Ernie liked spending money where it showed. Fast cars, flashy jewels. Maybe her engagement ring was just a little vulgar, it was so large, but Diana had never complained about it. Could a diamond really be too .big?
    ‘All right.’ Ernie nodded. ‘Just one, then.’ He ignored
    his young wife’s knowing smile. She thought one would turn into two or three. But if he didn’t like what she produced, it wouldn’t.
     
    z8
     
    At least Diana had come and asked for a budget. Some American wives just spent first and asked questions later. His girl knew better.
    It’s my way or the highway, Ernie thought, and returned her smile with one of his own.
    ‘Let’s go into dinner.’
     
    The dining room was a triumph. Diana had worked with Richard Hesson himself, the hottest, campest interior designer in the city. He was known for his uncompromisingly masculine rooms, maybe to make up for his uncompromisingly feminine looks, but who was she to judge? The room was all dark woods, a heavy walnut table from some eighteenth-century French farmhouse, rich red toile de joie, and a scarlet carpet. The maid had the table-laid for two, one at each end, with crisp Irish linen napkins, small silver vases filled with creamy yellow roses, and beeswax candles in antique silver candelabra flickering invitingly. Diana almost sighed out loud with contentment as she moved to the lower end of the table, across from her husband. This was so… civilised. A lot better than her grotty London flat. She was only missing a little intimacy, and Ernie would probably get round to it once he had stttled in more at the job.
    ‘Tell me about your day,’ she suggested, as Consuela laid the appetiser before her; tiny baked potatoes served with butter and flakes of truffle.
    ‘Not much to tell.’ Ernie forked the food into his mouth, barely taking the time to taste it. ‘Showing the lads how to run a modern business. Lots of bullshit talked in books.’
    His wife nodded and waited for Consuela to uncork the Merlot. They would eat quietly and then she could probably get away with a long drawn-out bath and Friends while Ernie retired to his study, to trade stock
     
    z9
     
    on the Net or some such. Mentally Diana started to plan her first party. She fully intended to make a splash here.
    Ernie talked away at his wife, offering up anodyne stories about his new offices, the incompetence of his assistants. Nothing of real importance, but why should he tell Diana about business? She wasn’t the kind of girl to give a damn. Sure, once in a while, a female came along who understood money. Usually ugly ones, frustrated types. Janet Jensen, a new underling of his, was a prime example. Ernie tried to imagine Janet spending days picking out the perfect duck-egg-blue trim for the guest bathroom - impossible, the hatchet-faced old boot. Janet types had brains; Diana types were arm ornaments and then there were sluts, Ernie’s favourite kind of girl.
    After