Trophy Wife on Trial

It was after midnight.

The party was winding down at Helen and Don's home. Maybe a dozen or so guests lingered in the living room, most very drunk husbands and wives, waiting for their Ubers. Music was playing. Each time a song ended and before the next started, two female voices from down a hallway and behind closed door could be heard. The tone of both voices made it obvious it was some sort of argument, maybe.

One of those pauses between songs happened and from down the hallway somewhere the guests heard:

"Omigod, Whitney! Are you really asking me that again?!"

"Because you're avoiding the question, Kelli. Again!"

Some of the guests began turning their heads toward the hallway from where the voices had been arguing more and more heatedly for the last fifteen minutes.

DOWN THE HALL & BEHIND A GUEST BEDROOM DOOR

Kelli Kiner and Whitney Dallas - two wives who couldn't be more opposite - were having the heated argument. Actually, Kelli was the one in a heated mood, her emotions very big. To keep from being overwhelmed, Kelli used what she knew best: being more than a bit bitchy.

"Just how jealous can you be of me, Whitney? Seriously? It's beyond boring. I'm not boring and plain..." Kelli paused to give Whitney a look that meant who the room between them was, "Scott finds me interesting to talk to. Talk, Whitney. That's all. How is it MY fault your husband might find me attractive?"

Whitney didn't let Kelli's playground mentality get to the level of emotional outbursts Kelli was reaching. That's because she knew Scott was the most amazing and smart and successful man in the community since she and he moved here late January. He had never given her any reason he'd slept with any of the women who throw themselves at him, so Whitney was never jealous.

Until she met Kelli Kiner.

DOWN THE HALL & BEHIND A GUEST BEDROOM DOOR

"What is with that holier than thou, superior smile?" Kelli's spiteful remark meant to cover the swell of insecurity she felt about how Whitney was smarter than her. "Maybe you should spend less time obsessing over me and more of your husband, the so-called "big" client supposedly here to do whatever he's supposed to do for the company?"

"I can't discuss Scott's role -" Whitney halfway replied before Kelli interrupted the soft spoken prim and proper wife, speaking over her with a slow boiling mix of snark and bitchiness.

"Whitney, I honestly couldn't care less what your hotshot handsome husband does." Kelli kept her composure by sipping more of her Cosmo then hiding her worry over whether Whitney caught the "handsome" part by knowing how to become "more than a bit bitchy" with a perfectly practiced pout. "Whitney, have you ever considered it's Scott who always flirts with me first? Like every other husband at these parties? Do you really think Scott is any different? Are you that clueless? Do you want me to tell you something about men? About married men..."

As Kelli went into a conceited rant, Whitney was calm, acting as if Kelli hadn't just basically admitted she found Scott handsome. Whitney had put a plan in into motion just a short while ago. A plan that included Kelli Kiner. A plan the started with two fresh Cosmo's. One for her, one for Kelli. As a friendly social gesture. It was a party after all and even though Whitney didn't drink, she knew Kelli did. And she loved Cosmo's.

So when she saw Kelli near finished with her second Cosmo, Whitney was right there, offering her a glass and asking to have a moment in private and sip their Cosmo's from the party's bartender.... well and from Whitney as well... and not just Whitney...

A FEW MONTHS AGO...

The last person Whitney imagined herself conspiring with was Brock Banner. He was uncouth and the most obnoxious man she had met. One Saturday afternoon, a few parties back, after Whitney saw Kelli behave like Brock was beneath her. When Brock stepped outside to calm down, Whitney went out on the patio to ask if he was ok. Brock looked pathetic the way he thought her concern was real. It was only a way for Whitney to ask him about Kelli. And Brock was more than happy to say terrible things about Clark's wife. She had to stop him when she heard the words "MILF porn star" as her took out his phone.

When Whitney also began referring to Kelli as Ms. Priss Princess and Brock high fived with her, Whitney had gained Brock's trust.

Whitney and Brock could see across the patio and into the big living room's open sliding glass door door, wide open for the summer breeze. Standing among the dozen or so casually dressed guests were Kelli and Scott. Kelli was getting plenty of attention due to her chocolate brown silk Dior halter top and a short little jean skirt and high wedge heel sandals.

"How does she look so trashy but classy?" Whitney wondered out loud while watching the woman everyone else was.

Brock laughed. "Let me ask you...if you had to bet on whether...."

That's how Whitney learned about the secret betting pools about Kelli Kiner among the men at certain parties and formal events. She found it amusing at how clueless a woman wanting to be the center of attention all of the time could be.

Whitney said she wished there was a way that after Kelli arrived at the parties, Whitney could wave a wand and make her disappear until the party was over so she wouldn't always be flirting with her husband. Brock - being the devious douchebag he was - grinned and said he had a wand, only he couldn't; use it, but maybe Whitney could.

"Maybe I could do what?" Whitney asked.

A FEW MONTHS AGO

(continued)

Brock showed her a small vial filled with powder. "Kelli loves Cosmos. Just dump half a vial. Dissolves fast. Acts fast. Within an hour, Ms Priss Princess will be the Passout Princess."

"It's not dangerous, is it?" Whitney didn't want Kelli to fall and hit her head.

"It's just Valiumn in powder form. When Kelli starts to go sleepy time fast, Clark's going to have to take her home. Bye bye Kelli. Bye bye her flirting with your husband. You win."

Kelli's loud laugh she always did when Scott told a joke echoed out to the patio. When they looked over at the sliding glass door open to the living room where Kelli was standing almost up against Scott, tossing her head back to laugh like she wanted people to look over... which they were. Whitney frowned. "It sounds like Ms. Priss Princess is still winning."

Brock held out his palm with the vial. "Wave that wand, Whitney."

"That means Kelli won't be around for you to flirt with. So why would you want me to wave the wand?" Whitney glanced at the vial in his palm.

Brock smiled. "All worth it for a few moments of watching Kelli making a fool of herself stumbling around looking like the bimbo she really is. Or wants to be... or will be. All I ask is you give me the high sign after you give it to her so I can get a front row seat for the show." He made a hand signal and laughed.

Whitney joined in. Brock directed her attention back to the house. "Look at her. If it were just the two of them in a room somewhere in this big house..." Brock let the statement sink in as he watched her watching her husband and her rival. "Every man at this party, married or unmarried, imagines what Kelli's lips would look like on their shaft. You don't want your husband to be one who finds out, right?"

He held his palm closer...

... Whitney looked ay the vial as she heard Kelli laugh again. She raised eyes to Brock. "Our secret?"

Brock turned his palm over and the vial dropped in to Whitney's open hand. "Our private prank club."

DOWN THE HALL & BEHIND A GUEST BEDROOM DOOR

Tonight, Whitney felt the only way to keep this Kiner tease away from her husband was to make sure she couldn't. As in, Kelli couldn't flirt with Scott if she fell asleep for the last half of the party.

"I've never seen Scott flirt with you, but I have seen you flirt with him!" Whitney replied, then added, "A lot of people tell me what they see."

Kelli sipped from her fresh Cosmo. "Oh, you mean Helen's little clique of gossiping, catty wives chirping like birds?"

Whitney started to reply, but Kelli's emotions rushed to the surface and interrupted her with bossy bitchiness. "Shut it! Just shut you frown little mouth. You bully me every party over rumors? Over gossip? Is there any real proof? Have you seen me kiss Scott?" Kelli paused for Whitney to say something, but only for a second before she went on, her tone getting snarky and attempting to be condescending.

"Let's go to the source. Yes, let's do it. I've had enough of this. Let's go right now and ask your husband if he and I are having this fantasy affair. So you can finally get it out of your mind and I don't have to be accused of giving your man something that's obviously missing at home!"

Whitney kept calm despite how obnoxious Kelli was acting. "We can't ask Scott right now, You know he's talking important business in the den with Clark and Ron. They've been in there 45 mins now. "

DOWN THE HALL & BEHIND A GUEST BEDROOM DOOR

Kelli had a big sip from her Cosmo. "No. We are settling this right now. Let's go." She stood up, glass in hand.

Whitney also stood, looking nervous. "Kelli, Scott is giving an import proposal for the company. He's not fond of interruptions. We can -"

Kelli's bitchy laugh cut the other wife off. "Whitney, your husband is a client, not a King. Besides, Clark has been with the company over a decade. Scott is a client for six months. This is more important than whatever is being said in the boys business club. Either we go right this instant or don't EVER ask me about Scott kissing me." Kelli blinked quickly and added, "Or me kissing him or how about no kissing... whatsoever. Period."

Whitney hesitated, wanting to process that last part, but she told herself: don't be distracted. Follow your plan. Walk Ms Priss Princess right where you'll lower the boom. "Okay, Kelli," Whitney said. "If you insist. Let's go the den. And interrupt their talk."

"Oh... I insist, bitch." Giving her hair a confident, toss. She opened the guest bedroom door and sashayed into the hall, glancing to make sure Whitney was following. The timid look on her rival's face boosted Kelli's confidence.

What she didn't see was when her head turned away, the timid expression of Whitney's face... was a mix of If-Looks-Could-Kill and a somewhat self satisfaction. So far, things were going just as Whitney had planned. She was letting Kelli think it was her idea to interrupt the men talking business in the den. Not long after that, Kelli would begin to pass out on her feet and look like an sloppy bimbo drunk. And no one likes bimbo sloppy drunks, Whitney reasoned to herself, not even if they look like Kelli Kiner.

Whitney wasn't feeling proud of good about herself... but it was about time Kelli was taken down more than a few notches.

HALLWAY, then THE DEN

Kelli walked down the next hallway that led to the den. She didn't bother glancing back a second time, she could hear Whitney a few paces behind. A warm, tingling spread from the back of Kelli's neck and down her spine. She'd never felt anything like it, but in her determined state of mind, it made her feel assertive and confident in a way that.... that felt right. Felt good. She was the winner. She was about to put Whitney in her place and prove to everyone - most importantly to Kelli, herself - who was the smarter one. Who always had been the smarter one. Kelli Kiner.

"Kelli, maybe knock fir -" Whitney cautioned from behind.

Kelli didn't even look back as she snarkishly replied, "You can learn a lot from me, honey. Not the other way around. I'm putting an end to this once and for all."

With that bold statement, Kelli opened the den door, letting it swing wide into the room and continuing to strut, her heels sharply CLAK CLAK CLAKING on the wood floor. Kelli saw her husband Clark sitting alone on one of the sofas. Ron was in an upright chair to his left. Standing just to the side and behind the chair, his wife Helen. Ron and Helen instantly looked at her with the same expression: disbelief.

In the center of the den, directly in front of Clark was Whitney's husband.

Scott Dallas was an imposing presence. Taller than any man almost at every occasion, and with broad shoulders and strong arms, hands that looked like they belonged to a lumberjack. His full head of hair kept trim, just a touch of grey at the sides that gave him undeniable authority and dignity. His handsome face was like a movie star. An even better looking Brad Pitt. Yet also rugged, just around his intense eyes. Strong jaw and chin. He was a man who didn't seem to be afraid of anything or anyone. Scott Dallas was also a man of taste. His suits simple, but classic.

Kelli was almost certain all of the "big" client's suits - mostly black or grey or deep blue - were Tom Ford. And a man of his height and size, that meant Scott had his suits tailored and the only one to tailor Tom Ford suits was Tom Ford. Scott's suit jacket was draped over one of three barstools where a small bar remained mostly in shadow. Scott's crisp white dress shirt was earning its worth, keeping his lean muscles from bursting through, but only because Scott was letting it.

"I asked you a question, Clark!"

Kelli was still on her own confident momentum, so at the same time Scott's question thundered down at her husband, she was a few steps into the den and announcing, "Time to take a break from the boring business, boys. I want -"

"Who in the FUCK doesn't KNOCK?" Scott's deep voice boomed at the same time he turned to see the gorgeous Kelli Kiner strutting into the room like she owned it. Her short, sassy hair moving in waves along her face, always more make-up than any wife and to his taste, yet somehow on this petite woman with the perfect cleavage that was the topic of not one, not two, but three betting pools that when Scott and his wife moved to the community, each were $10,000 each.

The sleeveless, tight red dress she wore that made her stand out from all the other wives at the party was typical Kelli Kiner style. Flaunting her figure while walking the balance between alluring elegance and sexy sophistication, not to mention a view of cleavage, almost as if to taunt men to not stare. She was a woman who clearly thought highly of her looks, high maintenance without a doubt, every outfit and dress color coordinated to her accessories and makeup. Practically everything Scott Dallas usually found unattractive.

Until he met Kelli Kiner.

THE DEN

(continued)

Upon Scott's cursing, Kelli stopped short, all her momentum shut down. She went to put her hands on her hips - one of her defiant poses - but the way Scott's intense gaze, like invisible laser beams that met Kelli's eyes and stopped her to a standstill, her hands didn't quite make it, her back arching, her poise frozen as if in the middle of walking forward and leaning back.

Kelli's sudden stop and posture caused her cleavage to push the front of her dress, open further everyone in the room - especially Scott - a nice view of the firm inner curves of her impeccable breasts and just enough her embroidered lace the black bra.

Upon seeing the black lace trim of the front of Kelli's black bra, Scott felt his arousal awaken... the fact that Kelli had no clue how much of her bra was showing.... for Scott, it only made her more not his type and yet... the way this women unwittingly appeared simultaneously sexy... and slutty at the same time... feel like he knew Kelli Kiner...like how a woman of her obsession in color coordinating everything she wears.... seeing her black bra peeking out the front of her tight dress made Scott instantly know with certainty that Kelli was wearing a matching thong under that tight red dress...

Only a moment or two had passed since Scott's outburst while no one spoke or moved as he held Clark's wife to the spot with his intense gaze...she was the only one to see the intensity lose focus as Scott mumbled softly, "...red dress..."

Whatever power Scott's gaze held over Kelli's own seemingly hypnotized daze disappeared when he spoke. She felt a wave of tipsiness and her mouth dry as her voice trembled, "Wh.. whaa -"

Scott had already snapped out of the vivid fantasy that went through his mind. He never knew he wanted her in the way he saw. And now he felt he wouldn't be able to forget it... but he didn't want to forget it. But he knew it couldn't remain a fantasy, an idea. Scott made his very successful bringing his ideas to reality. He'd never failed yet. And he wouldn't. He told himself this was another man's wife and to forget the idea of having her the way his subconscious revealed.

But he couldn't. The more these thoughts raced like lighting through Scott's mind... clouding and arousing and confusing him... Scott Dallas was not a man easily confused, if ever at all... and never by a woman... not a woman like Kelli Kiner. His frustration boiled to the surface.

"Sit the FUCK down, Kelli," Scott commanded the almost trembling trophy wife as he pointed to the sofa at a right angle from the one her husband slouched in. "NOW!"

Kelli couldn't move but it wasn't her fault....she felt the rage pouring off Scott and onto her.... but more than rage was something else... she could feel it in waves from him... smell it... taste it... all of her senses suddenly so... whatever Scott was feeling for her it was not quite Scott... like an animal... or a caveman...like he was hungry... a sexual hunger.

She felt her slip slowly from her hips, smoothing her dress along her thighs...

"I'd do as he says, Kell," a familiar voice casually came from the shadows of the bar.

Even as she was turning her head in the direction of the voice, Kelli knew exactly who it was.

A lamp on the bar was turned on and brightly lit the bar and the area behind it where Brock leaned, one hand on the lamp. His smug smirk deliberately dialed up to match his condescending tone toward Kelli, "The man don't like not knocking. And you, Kell, did not knock."

THE DEN

Kelli had a seat where Scott had told her to while he went to the bar, Brock stepping out from behind it and giving Scott plenty of room by moving across the den as Scott began making himself a drink.

"Clark," Kelli spoke to her husband on the other sofa. He was sort of slouched down, his chin nodding down to his chest and his head would lift suddenly and he would reply to some question asked of him from who knows how long ago. His last few words would become a mumble as his chin began to lower again to repeat on his way to a drunken stupor. "Clark...!"

Helen and Ron were watching Kelli's attempts to get her husband to pull out of his stupor. They exchanged amused glances, fully focused and entertained by the social awkwardness.

Meanwhile, as Brock moved away from the bar, he looked at Whitney and she gave him the high sign he'd made up on the patio months ago. At first he didn't know what she was doing and frowned at her.

But when Whitney did it again while tilting her head to the sofa Kelli was sitting on.... he'd been starting to get drunk but the lightning bolt of realization of what Whitney was communicating shot through and (mostly) sobered him up with excitement. Glancing around the den, he saw everyone preoccupied, but he knew not for long and he hurried over to where Whitney lingered by the now closed door to the den.

"Did you just give me the high sign?" Brock whispered.

"Yes," Whitney replied. They were both like little children who had successfully gotten a cookie from the jar. "In a Cosmo, just like you said. It was easy."

"Told you. When?"

"At midnight. So she should be passing out any minute now."

Brock glanced at his watch. It was half past midnight. He looked over his shoulder to where Kelli was sitting, then back to Whitney and shook his head,?More like another half hour more before it kicks in."