Renata was in a foul mood, although a satisfied smile did curl her lips as she peered at herself in the full-length mirror. She looked damn good, she thought. She knew she had a good body, anybody would. Slim, five-seven, pretty face, glistening shoulder-length black hair, firm not-too-big tits, flat tummy, toned upper body and long, lean legs. She was thirty-nine years old but people often took her for much younger. She knew she was hot.
Her Cleopatra costume showed off her bod tremendously, she thought as she eyed her reflection, which was exactly what she wanted it to do this night. Shiny, metallic crop top, accentuating her sexy cleavage, and its matching headpiece and leggy, slit skirt, and golden sandals. Her bare midriff with sunken navel on full display. Multiple gold bangles on her wrists, and a long, gold asp curled around her upper arm. Cleopatra would be catching eyes like flies tonight. Her husband Owen was dressing up as Mark Antony, but he hadn't worked too hard on his costume. He looked more like an overage frat boy on his way to a toga party.
Renata and Owen were headed out to a Mardi Gras party, an annual fundraiser hosted by the chief benefactors of a local dance and theater company. It was a popular event that had grown in size and stature over the years, was fun for all concerned, and raised a lot of money in the process. Every year hundreds would purchase tickets and assemble at the estate home of Samuel and Eloise Hollingsworth, a couple of older, wealthy, artsy-fartsy music and theater buffs. The party was first class all the way, and took place at their large Victorian home, the backyard terrace and pool area, and the tented, torch-lit grounds. There was top-notch music, catered food and drink, and the parties were known to be wild and crazy, a final blowout before lent, for those who observed. Guests had been known to let it all hang out, so to speak, and would sometimes do things they might not normally do, and go farther than they might usually go. Part of the reason for that was the simple party rules: All must wear a costume, and all must wear a mask.
They'd anticipated this evening for weeks, but as they dressed and prepared to leave, Renata and Owen were not happy campers. They should have been looking forward to a fun night, dressing up and partying with friends like Leah, her best friend since high school, and Leah's husband Luke. But Renata was not in the mood to go anywhere with her husband, and she wasn't interested in seeing Leah anytime soon, either. She was pissed, madder than she could ever recall, but was determined to go and have a good time despite her husband, and didn't care if he went to the party or not.
The reason Renata was mad was because of something she'd found out the night before, quite by accident. She and Owen were drinking wine and watching a movie on cable. There was a scene where this couple were making love on a beach and a small plane above was flying low and buzzed them over and over as they fucked. And Owen slipped up.
He said, "You remember that time we were lying on the beach and that 747 did that fly-over right above us at like five hundred feet? Shit, scared the hell out of everybody. We thought it was going down."
Renata didn't say anything at first, because she didn't remember any such thing. But she did vaguely recall an incident years before where the beach town had arranged the fly-over as part of a weekend festival but didn't get confirmation in time to notify the populace. It had frightened everyone and had them running for cover. There was a big public backlash over it, a lot of blame was thrown around. That had to have been twenty years ago. She remembered because she and Owen were engaged at the time and she'd been perturbed that he'd gone away for the weekend without her. Something with his family, he'd said.
"I don't remember that," Renata said. "Must have been somebody else."
Owen immediately knew he'd stepped in it. His brain was wine-fogged, and he tried to cover for his mistake but he only made it worse. As he stammered along and dug his hole deeper, Renata was thinking back to when they were engaged to be married and later as newlyweds. Owen had raised the prospect of them getting into a swinging lifestyle, and Renata had wanted no part of it. He had mentioned that maybe they could swing with Leah and Luke, since they were all good friends. Renata had told him that if he wanted to swap with them, fine, she'd take Leah and he could go fuck Luke. That had shut him up.
"It was Leah, wasn't it?" Renata said, interrupting Owen's babbling.. "You were with Leah. You had an affair with her, didn't you?"
Owen's reaction left no doubt. He wasn't getting out of this one. Gradually, it all came out. Through the tears and screams Renata learned that yes, it had been Leah, and it had gone on for some time when Leah and Luke were already married and she and Owen were still engaged. It was not a one-time drunken episode, which might have been forgivable. It had gone on for months and the two of them had kept their secret, and lived their lie, for twenty years. Renata didn't know who she should be more pissed-off with: Her husband for fucking her best friend, or her best friend for fucking her husband.
"Does Luke know about you two?" she asked.
"I don't know. I don't think so."
"How many other women have you fucked since then?"
"Renata..."
"How many?"
"None. That was the only time. I..."
"Oh, bullshit. Why should I believe that? Cheat once, you'll cheat again. I'd bet this house it wasn't the only time. You've been lying to me for twenty fucking years."
"It's the truth. She was the only one. It was wrong, I'm sorry. It happened by accident..."
"Accident? Oh, shut the fuck up!" she shouted at him. "Was it by accident you did it again and again for months? I don't want to hear any more of your shit."
"Renata, calm down..."
"Calm down?" she shrieked. "You fucked my best friend, for Christ's sake! Do you have any idea how much that hurts? Do you have any idea how many times men have come on to me over the last twenty years? Dozens. Maybe a hundred. And I could have fucked any one of them, or all of them, if I'd wanted to. But I didn't. Know why? Because I was faithful to my husband. And I thought he was faithful to me. I didn't know my husband was a cheating, lying sack of shit!"
Renata had gone to bed, slamming doors along the way. Owen slept on the couch. She hadn't spoken to him since.
--
Renata looked in the mirror again. Her costume was killer. She brushed her hair and put on the mask. It was gold and covered her forehead, eyes and cheekbones and curled over the tip of her nose. She was applying lip gloss when Mark Antony tapped on the open bedroom door.
"Are you ready to go?" he asked.
"Almost," she said. "You go on ahead, I'm going to go by myself. I'll see you there."
"Honey, please..."
"Don't, Owen. I don't want to be around you right now. I need time. I'm very angry at you. You cheated on me, you've let me down. If you can't understand that, and how much it hurts, and give me the space I need, then so be it. But I don't want to be with you. Not now, not yet."
Without another word, he left. Renata peered one last time at her image in the mirror. She sighed, took a deep breath, and shook her head. She thought of Leah and Owen, trysting, holding each other in bed, kissing, fucking, sucking, screwing, coming, sneaking behind the backs of her husband and his fiancee for months. And for twenty years she hadn't had a clue. And over those years they had proven to be pretty good actors, and their secret had been safe. Could she trust either one of them again? If she didn't know her best friend and husband of twenty years any better than that, could she ever really know anyone?
Renata heard a car horn blow. She pulled the window curtain aside and saw the Yellow Cab in the driveway. Right on time. She locked the door and got into the taxi. She didn't want to drive tonight. She was mad, feeling vengeful, but loose as a goose, maybe a little reckless, ready to have a good time, ready for whatever. She had no idea what was going to happen tonight. She also had no idea what she'd say to Leah if and when she saw her at the party.
--
Renata paid the cabbie and got out of the car. The band was already in high gear, the dance music loud and tight. Instead of entering through the front door she walked around the side of the house, opened a gate and followed the walkway to the terrace out back and made a beeline for the bar. After a short wait she ordered two vodka martinis, each with two huge olives. She ate the olives first so she'd have some food in her stomach. The first martini went down in three or four swigs, but she nursed the second.
