Every Woman Needs a Wife Read Free

every day. Brandi had fallen for a few lines in her lifetime, sweeping the smallest ones to the side to keep peace in her home. Those days were over.
    Vernon slowly stood to his full height of six foot two and glared down at his wife. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Check the record, Brandi. She’s a client.”
    “Bullshit!” she snapped, head whipping around to the mistress. “A client? A
white
one at that?” Brandi lowered her gaze to the woman’s groin. “Wearing a robe so sheer I can see blonde hairs covering the gateway to heaven. Or should I say the gateway to hell, if she doesn’t know what to do with it.”
    Tanya wrapped the robe closer, averting her eyes.
    “And since I’ve had to be awful friendly with Mr. Dildo these past six months, she apparently knows how to get you over here.” Calm was returning slowly to Brandi. “If I have to use equipment to fulfill my basic needs, and I’m helping to run the business, taking care of the house, bringing home the bacon, frying it, and cleaning up right after, what the hell do I need you for?”
    Vernon’s gaze flicked between the two women before settling on Brandi. “She’s
only
a client, Brandi,” he said, trying to use a convincing tone—atone that worked with their customers, but not with Brandi. Not anymore.
    “You called me a client?” Tanya’s words, almost a resigned whisper, had savage simplicity. “A client? You asshole!” She pushed him back onto the sofa with a single hand, strolled to the bar, and poured herself a drink. Brandi almost joined her; she needed a damn stiff drink herself.
    All three silently held their ground, each waiting for the other to make the next move.
    Tanya’s statements only proved what Brandi thought—he’d spent so much time with the woman that she hadn’t suspected a thing. Brandi decided she’d delivered her opening lines just right. Now all she had to do was wait for Vernon to tighten the noose around his own neck. Arrogance could always do that to a man, and Vernon had arrogance by the bucketful.
    Faint light crept through the vertical blinds and splayed onto the carpet as the icy silence created a sliver of uneasiness that only heightened the tension.
    Vernon stood, rubbing his temples. “We’ll talk about this when we get home.”
    “No, we’ll talk about this right now,” Brandi shot back.
    “Vernon,” Tanya began, “I think she’s right—”
    “Shut up,” he growled, casting an angry glance at Tanya, whose alabaster skin blushed once again as he snapped, “You stay out of this!”
    “Don’t tell me to shut up,” she replied evenly, soft curls billowing out around her shoulders. “You brought this into my living room and you’ve lied to me. I have every right to speak my mind.” The woman squared her shoulders, somehow growing her own pair of balls. The change was so subtle, it was neither movement nor sound.
    The mistress was a startling contrast to Brandi’s honey brown skin, light brown eyes, wide, fleshy hips, and full breasts that always used to make Vernon’s mouth water every time he looked at them. Suddenly, Brandi felt a bit self-conscious about those extra fifty pounds. But then, her full-figured frame had never mattered to him—only her leading role in the business they started ten years ago had bothered him, causing more fights than she cared to count.
    “Enough of this. This is not going to happen right now,” Vernon said, with a swipe of his hand. “Brandi, go home!”
    “Technically, I
am
home.” Brandi dropped down on the sofa next to her husband, casually crossing one leg over the other. “Thanks to your stupidity, I own part of this one, too.” Then a sudden thought came to her. “Hey! You want me and the girls to pack our stuff and move in?” she asked, lifting a single eyebrow as though warming up to the idea. “It’ll be a little tight, but then again you’re used to tight places.” She glanced slyly at Tanya. “But then again,