The Wrong Wife by Maya Alden
Chapter 11
Esme
“What the fuck are you wearing?” he demanded when he saw me.
I was wearing the best dress I had. A sleeveless black Tahari sheath dress that went very well with a suit jacket that I put on when I had defended my master’s thesis. I had bought the dress at Nordstrom Rack, and I thought it looked damn good. I had paired it with black heels that I had also gotten at Nordstrom Rack, Stuart Weitzman on sale for fifty bucks. Beat that!
I bit my bottom lip. “I…it’s a Tahari sheath dress?”
“What’s that?”
“A business suit brand,” I responded tentatively.
“Boss is a business suit brand.” He looked angry and disappointed like my father did whenever I was around. I didn’t want him to spew the ugly things like my father, so I started to fast talk, which I did when I was nervous.
“Look, I know you think you married a Hartley but I’m the…you know ugly stepsister. Viv is the princess…from both looks and fashion perspectives. I didn’t grow up in LA. I don’t do Melisse…I don’t even know what Melisse is. You said gallery opening and dinner, so I put this on. It’s what I wore for my thesis defense, and everyone said I looked good. Really good.”
“What?” I couldn’t understand what any of this had to do with the ridiculous outfit she had put on. She looked like a secretary, not a Knight who was going to meet a Senator. “I grew up in Santa Rita with my abuela. My grandmother.”
“Why?” I knew from Raya’s report that she had been raised by her grandmother but there seemed to be no reason given for it.
“My parents were too busy traveling,” I responded simply. “Anyway, what I’m saying is I haven’t gone to many of these society things. The few times I did, I borrowed something to wear from my mother; something that was loose on her and not so much on me. I’m a social worker and a student. I don’t have money to buy the kind of things Viv wears.”
He closed his eyes for a moment and then let out a breath.
Why, oh why, did he have to look so good while I…well, I looked like me.
“You’re married to me. You have money to buy whatever the fuck you want.”
I stared at him like he’d lost his mind. My father would never have said here’s some money, go buy something nice, he’d just have said something about my poor taste in clothes.
“Declan, I’m sorry. This is the best I can do. What I wear is not important to me. But these things are important to you and your family. I’m willing to learn and I’ll do better in the future. Why don’t you go without me this time? Just make an excuse. Say I’m not feeling well. You know with all the excitement of the wedding and my thesis and all that.” And that would make my father happy, and I wouldn’t have to look at Viv who would look like she was made to stand next to Declan.
I didn’t wait for him to respond and just turned around to go back into my bedroom. I was depleted. I didn’t know why people cared so much about what I wore or who I wore. Why was I never enough the way I was?
“No. This is a business meeting, Esme. And I want you there.”
“But, Declan,” I pleaded.
“Esme, you’re a fucking Hartley and you’re behaving like—”
“Someone who grew up on a small vineyard in Santa Rita with her grandmother,” she finished.
“We need to up your wardrobe. Today, PR chewed me out because your dress for the wedding wasn’t what we could show in the pictures we sent to media.”
My face darkened with pain, but I hid it immediately. I was embarrassing him as well. No surprise there. I gave him a small smile. “I don’t think it’ll change anything.”
“What do you mean?”
“Because this is as good as it gets, Declan. You know, I worked hard at looking…you know what? Go without me. My father will be happy. Viv will be happy and obviously you’ll be happy to not be embarrassed by your wife.” I lost my patience and threw my hands in the air. I was about to walk away when he grabbed my arm.