Page 44 of Jealous Wife
The iron gate slid across the driveway, closing with a loud clang.
Claire rushed to the gates. She wrapped her fingers around the cold, hard iron and pressed her body against the black vertical bars. Peering longingly ahead into the perfectly manicured garden, she cursed in a lower whisper. She’d hoped to have had a little longer to sneak in, but she supposed that these rich folks needed to protect themselves.
Not that a stupid gate was going to stop her.
Somewhere nearby, she heard the sound of water sloshing. She searched the evergreen grounds, her eyes darting in all directions. Through the polished glass of the front of the sprawling mansion, she could see into the backyard where the pool’s water glistened as it moved beneath the sunshine.
Still holding onto the gate, Claire craned her neck back and looked up to the very top of the closed and locked gates. They were decorated with spikes. The black spears spanned the entire length of the gates. Climbing over wasn’t an option.
Instead of getting upset, Claire searched for a plan B.
The home’s property was fenced in by a nine-foot stucco wall that offered nothing to grab onto or shove feet into. In the neighbor’s yard, she noticed a haggard tree. The branches were twisted and turned in on themselves several times over. It would be perfect for climbing. She let go of the gate and rushed past the stucco fence and around the corner. Stupidly, their neighbors hadn’t put much into security—their fence was made of mere four-foot wooden planks painted white. Claire swung her leg over the small picket fence then ran through their front yard, hunched down in an attempt to not be seen.
The tree was off to the side of the house, the gnarled roots peeking through the grass. She stopped just shy of the tree and gazed up at it, trying to throw herself back into her youth when scaling trees was an adventure rather than a risky chore. She put her right sneaker into a little nook in the bark about as high as her hip and extended her arms up toward the branches above. She counted to three, bouncing on her feet. On the third bounce, she lifted herself off the ground. Her right foot cemented into the tree and her hands gripping onto a low branch, she searched around for her next spot.
From there it was fairly easy. The tree was perfectly aligned with lots of thick, weight-bearing branches. She crouched down, ducking between the branches above, with her hands clutching at the wood to keep her steady.
Within a couple of minutes, she was perched in front of one of the branches that hung down above the pool. Claire wrapped both of her legs around the branch and shimmied across. A droplet of sweat trickled down her spine, cooling her skin along the way. Claire wasn’t unhealthy by any means, but climbing this tree was harder than she’d expected. Below her, was the edge of the pool. If she dropped onto the tile there, she knew she might not make it out of that pool alive. Determined to get into the house, she shifted her body, swinging one leg over the branch, then lowering herself until she hung by her hands.
As she was about to drop into the pool, she remembered her phone was tucked into her skirt, wedged into place by the tight waistband. Her fingers were already slipping, slick with sweat, but if she dropped down now her whole social life would be wiped clean, gone.
Claire took a risk and reached her left hand down to her skirt. Fumbling for her phone, she felt her right hand starting to slip. Her fingertips brushed against the phone’s plastic case. Before she could get a hold of it, she was falling.
Claire barely had enough time to toss the phone toward the grass as a yelp burst from her mouth. Her body splashed into the water. Waves swarmed around her in a loud rush, pulling her under. The chlorine stung her eyes and filled her mouth. She waved her arms wildly and kicked her legs trying to surface.
Gasping and spluttering, she wiped her hands down her face and smoothed her hair out of her eyes. Turning around in the water, she searched for her phone among the grass. She located it with a sigh of relief where the stone path met the freshly cut grass.
Another wave of relief washed over her as she realized she’d made it over the fence and onto the mansion’s property. Little Claire with her short skirts, thigh-high socks, and tight shirts had managed to break in.
***
It wasn’t any old mansion, she corrected herself, it was Vince’s mansion. Well, Vince and that bitch wife of his, Claire thought bitterly. She liked to gloss over that factoid whenever it popped into her head. Soon enough, Vince wouldn’t be with that old hag Lorelei; soon he’d see the error of his ways and chase after Claire instead.
The idea of Vince pining for her made Claire’s legs go weak at the knees, suddenly struggling to keep her afloat. Vince was a fox—there was no other way to describe him. His brown hair was speckled with gray and his whole demeanor screamed wealth. Everything about him, from the suits he wore to the house he lived in, was pure luxury.
Why does that bitch get it?Claire paddled toward the pool ladder.Why does he spoil her with whatever she wants when I have to live at home with my mom?It’s not fair.The water cascaded off her body as she climbed out of the pool. Her sneakers squelched as she walked along the cream-colored path. The air was chilly against her bare skin, the wind whipping against her as she walked toward the grass where her phone rested.
Before she could grab it, though, she needed to dry off. She shook her hands and wrung out her white tank top that was now completely see-through. When she felt dry enough, she picked up her phone and checked it for cracks. As she turned it over in her hands, she saw that the entire front of the phone had been smashed. The screen had been obliterated despite the smash-proof case.
“Dammit,” she muttered under her breath.
Claire held her phone as she looked around, trying to find a way into the house without breaking a window. As much as she wanted to get inside, she didn’t want to break something and have the police called. After all, who knew how many powerful friends Vince had? He had the kind of wealth that allowed him to make people vanish without anyone asking questions. It was a scary thing to be playing around with.He won’t do that to me, though,she thought.Not once he sees how great I am—how great I am compared to his withered old wife.
Eventually, Claire found her way inside through one of the doors in the backyard. Someone had left it unlocked. Vince probably didn’t think someone would scale a tree and drop into their pool just to have a peek into his home. Still, Claire had to tread carefully.
On the walls were huge prints of skyscrapers, estates, and grand manors. Claire knew each one was his. She’d spent hours studying his work. It was only right that the walls of his home were dedicated to his long and wonderful career. He was a visionary, a beautiful human with an even more beautiful mind.
The home’s first floor wasn’t what she was interested in though. What she was interested in was the unseen; the things she didn’t already know.
Slowly, she climbed the staircase, her heart hammering in her chest with anticipation. Everything else was dissolving—falling into the pool, cracking her phone, being drenched in yucky chlorine water. None of it mattered anymore. At the top, a wide hallway led like a T through the second floor. The white walls were dotted with closed doors. She opened them in quick succession as she trailed the hallway, trying to find the master bedroom.
As soon as Claire opened the door at the very end, she knew she’d found her gold mine. In the middle of the large room, the biggest bed she’d ever seen sat before a wall of tall windows covered with sheer curtains, muting the sunlight that came through. It was topped with ivory-white, silk covers. A faux fur rug was trapped beneath the legs, flowing out toward the edges of the room.
To her right were two doors, both of them open. One led into their huge walk-in closet, and the other to the pristine, white bathroom. Claire gulped as she looked at everything around her, stunned at how beautiful their home was. But of course it was beautiful, Vince designed it.
She walked to the closet, still feeling her shoes wet and uncomfortable beneath her feet. On the right-hand side were all of Vince’s suits and stunning clothes. To the left was Lorelei’s. Claire tried to ignore the left side as much as possible, trying to control her pangs of intense jealousy. She grabbed one of Vince’s shirts and held it out at arm’s length, nodding at it slowly. This will do, she thought.
She carried it out into the bedroom and felt her stomach tie itself into a large, throbbing knot.