Theresa Stone, Conclusion

Theresa slid open the door to her suite and was greeted by the sight of her husband lounging on the sofa. Ben was tall, blonde, and had the body of a swimmer. Ben was a professional soccer player and his season had concluded a month ago. His body was still recuperating from months of hard fought games and injuries that never got the chance to heal completely. He glanced up when the door opened but immediately returned his attention what sports channel had captivated his attention.

Theresa couldn’t help herself, “What no greeting when your lovely wife comes home?”

Ben snorted, “As soon as I have a lovely wife that comes home I’m sure I’ll greet her with love and enthusiasm.” He retorted sarcastically and emotionlessly.

Theresa snorted in response and true to form was about to turn on her heel and flee into her bedroom but instead she decided to take Beth’s advice to heart. She shudder but headed for Ben, kissed the top of his blonde head and then headed for her room. It was a small display of affection that was far from heartfelt but it would serve to throw Ben off kilter.

“I’m going to change and then I’m going to order dinner. Can I order you something?”

Ben stood, the television momentarily forgotten, and looked at Theresa. “Ok, what gives? The last thing you want to do is eat dinner with me so what do you want?”

“I want nothing. I’m tired of fighting to be honest. It takes too much time and energy. Can we please just declare a truce for the next couple of months?”

Ben stared, literally for the first time he was speechless and his mouth hung open. The woman standing in front of him looked and sounded like his wife but her behavior was so uncharacteristic that she was unrecognizable. “Theresa, I’m so not in the mood for mind games. But I’m starving so I’m going to assume you are being nice for whatever reason and accept your offer of a truce and dinner.”

“Coming right up, just let me get changed and then I’ll order up dinner. Don’t worry about anything.” Theresa flitted from the room, seemingly unconcerned about anything and truly enjoying his company. As she entered her lavish room she thought “Imagine that, the old crone Beth was right. It really is possible to fool the pea brain in a man’s head with a few kind gestures and the offer of food. I’m so glad I decided to implement her plan upstairs.”

Ben sat there, oblivious the plotting that had occurred or would be occurring for months to come.

 

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Theresa Stone, Part Four

Two hours later, Beth unfurled her lithe form from her chair and picked up the house phone. She placed an order for a light supper for two with a bottle of champagne to be delivered with the meal. Theresa meanwhile, was sitting on the sofa still looking floored. Theresa was not looking anywhere near as fresh or put together as Beth. She had the wrinkly, frumpy, had too much to drink too quickly look that served only to highlight her age. Beth was not what she expected her to be and she had been right earlier in the day when she said there was much she had to learn from her. Theresa was still reeling from the sheer amount of information Beth had shared in such a short time about her family and let’s be blunt, reeling from how deeply she now trusted Beth.

Beth looked like she had not a care in the world and she sat back down and waited for Theresa to respond to her earlier proposal. Beth evaluated the younger woman, she looked shell shocked but she also had that predatory gleam dancing in her eyes. Theresa understood the ultimate prize and was willing to play her part. Beth had taken a gamble on trusting Theresa but something in her personality made Beth see a kindred soul when Theresa so rudely introduced herself that afternoon.

There was a knock on the door and Beth answered, shamelessly flirting with the bellhop as dinner was served and champagne uncorked. The smell of food seemed to rouse Theresa from her thoughts and she ambled over to the table.

“Smells delicious, thanks for ordering I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

“My pleasure. I trust this afternoon has been enlightening.”

“Beth, I am honestly at a loss for words. I think I’ve learned more in the last two hours than I have in the last twenty years. But I’m curious, why? Why take the risk? Why involve me? Why share your lifetime of knowledge with me a stranger who just happened to bump into you today?”

“Smart questions Theresa, smart answer because my dossier on you indicates that you are intelligent and would be open to the things discussed here today.”

Theresa pushed back from the table and clutching her champagne flute, walked over to the windows. Admiring the stunning view of the glittering city spread out below her, she thought carefully about how to phrase her next question.

“No, I get that Beth. I mean why now? You’ve had plenty of time, so what made today different?”

“Another simple answer Theresa, you stank of loneliness and desperation.” Beth watched as Theresa’s defenses came up. Her shoulders tensed, she stood a little straighter, and without seeing, Beth know she had a death grip on the stem of the champagne flute. “It isn’t an insult Theresa. But let’s be honest, before today you weren’t ready. You thought yourself above everyone and impervious to hurt. Something snapped inside you when you saw the way Jack responded to me and you yearned to know my secrets.”

Theresa spun around, her face once again screwed into a mask of barely contained fury. “I am impervious to hurt, I do the hurting not vice versa.” Her tone was bitter, cold, and dejected.

“Maybe when you were younger, but admit it Theresa you no longer have the blatant power over men you once had. It’s time to play smarter and win more in the process.”

Theresa’s shoulders slumped and the fight seeped out of her like a balloon losing air. “Are you sure your plan will work? I need money Beth, I’m not going to sugar coat things. Ben has it and I want it. I made some foolish investments and lost the comfortably large nest egg I had hidden away in the last four years. If Ben walked out on me right now, I’d have to go crawling home to Daddy and that would not end well.”

“As charming as your father is, I can’t see him welcoming you home with open arms to live off of him either.” Beth agreed easily, knowing full well that Theresa would be back home soon enough playing off her father’s sympathies.

 

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Theresa Stone, Part Three

Breezing by the sparkling crystal shards littering the carpet, Theresa headed to the house phone and issued demands to the concierge. Her answers obtained, Theresa grabbed her handbag and wobbled unsteadily on her heals as she headed for the suites front doors. She struggled to open the door in her inebriated state, and stumbled as the latch released and the door sprang open. Theresa used the wall to support her unsteady gait as she headed to the elevator bank and rode the elevator to the appropriate floor where Beth’s suite was located.

“Lucky witch,” Theresa muttered under her breathe as she pounded on the suite’s door.

Beth heard the commotion and decided to let Theresa stew outside for a couple of minutes, after all she wasn’t at the washed up trophy wife’s beck and call. Beth had changed into something comfortable and had been relaxing comfortably on one of the suite’s ultra plush chairs while sipping a mimosa. Deciding she had left Theresa stewing long enough, Beth rose gracefully from the chair. Her flexibility and grace belying her age.

“About time you answered the door,” Theresa stumbled as she slithered into the room. “I need a drink.”

“Seems like you’ve already had more than enough, how about a cup of coffee instead?” Beth had moved to the house phone and placed an order for coffee and afternoon tea to be brought up.

Theresa in the meantime had collapsed into the nearest chair. She was a mess to the casual observer. Her diamonds in disarray, her clothing all askew, and the stench of gin emanating from her. Beth shook her head, pitying the creature before her and wondering if her plan was bold enough and if Theresa were capable of carrying out the plan given her current condition.

Room service arrived and Beth served Theresa a strong cup of coffee and placed a sandwich in front of her, “Eat and drink and then we will talk.”

Theresa pouted but complied. Beth observed Theresa over the delicate china cup as she sipped her tea. Theresa reminded her of a spoiled poodle, all dressed up and feisty but incapable of doing any true harm. “She should be a breeze to manipulate.” Beth’s thoughts drifted toward her scheme and how it might be changed to suit her needs.

Shortly, Theresa seemed to sober up some and pulled herself up into a more graceful position. She eyed the elderly woman seated in front of her, curious about the creature that had managed to sink her claws into dumb Jack despite the gulf of years between them. There was nothing remarkable about Beth, Theresa quickly surmised. She had stylishly cut short gray hair, green eyes, wrinkles, although not many, and wore simple jewelry. Nothing about her screamed sex kitten capable of landing a man fifty years her junior. Theresa of course, failed to observe the easy manner Beth moved, her limbs obviously limber and without any hint of arthritis or rheumatism.

“So, I assume you have graced my elegant suite for a reason Theresa.”

“You said you could help me. I am curious as to how you think you can help me? Or how you even think I need help in the first place.” Theresa’s tone was harsh and abrupt and her gaze unwavering.

“Well, for starters I know that you can no longer hold your husband’s attentions and that while you sit here alone on evenings, he is out have a grand time with sweet young co-eds.”

Theresa snorted, “Like I care where he dips his wick! All I care about is his money.” Her face distorted into a gaze of disgust and derision.

“Be that as it may, he is making a fool of you in polite society and I know you care about that a great deal. Last I heard, he was running his mouth at a party proclaiming that he couldn’t wait to divorce you and move on in peace. I believe I heard him call you the sparkling vulture recently.”

Theresa’s gaze hardened and she made a move to leave. “Oh sit down and stop being an idiot. We both know you don’t love your husband and you are only interested in bilking as much money as you can out of his accounts before he leaves you high and dry.”

 

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