Faking It

Suzanne carefully applied the strawberry red lipstick as she studied her reflection in the mirror in the ladies washroom. The lipstick was the final piece of makeup to be applied. When she had finished, she stood back and looked at the finished ensemble. Her long, blond hair had been pulled into an elegant but sexy chignon with a few wispy strands curling lightly around her slender neck. The dark blue eye shadow seemed to deepen the shade of her blue eyes making them appear both seductive and mysterious. A light coating of blusher highlighted her high cheekbones and added definition to her velvet smooth skin whilst the strawberry red lipstick made her lips seem fuller and shiny. Maybe even kissable? She hoped so.

The short, figure hugging black dress had cost her a fortune. The strapless bodice clung like a second skin across the firm swell of her breasts before skimming down over her slender waist. The dress ended midway down her thighs, far higher than what she would normally have worn when going out. Her long, slender legs were encased in a pair of black, sheer stockings which, paired with a pair of black pumps with painfully high heels, gave her legs an endless appearance. The whole outfit was a completely new experience for her and she was hoping that it would be one that would achieve her goal. Preferably as soon as possible as the black pumps she had bought were not as comfortable as they had appeared in the store.

Replacing her lipstick in the small clutch bag she pulled out a small, plastic microphone and placed it inside the small locket that she wore around her neck and switched on the recording device inside the bag. With a final glance over her appearance she closed the bag and walked out of the ladies room and into the crowded hotel lobby.

The hotel was holding a two day sales convention with a dinner dance in the evening for those who were staying over. The attendees were now making their way into the large ballroom after having dined on the three course dinner that was being provided as part of the convention. Staying at the hotel on her own and feeling rather lonely these days, she was hoping that she would meet up with one of the other delegates for some company and maybe something more.

The dimly lit ballroom was already filling up with the men and women who had come for the convention. Some knew each other from previous conventions and were standing in groups talking or dancing to the music played by the hotel’s small band. Some were sitting at the long bar, slowly sipping at their drinks whilst they cast speculative eyes over the crowds before them. Inside the doorway, Suzanne swiftly scanned through the crowds mingling on the dance floor before dismissing them and moving on to those seated at the bar. For what she was looking for she would have a better chance with someone there.

A slight smile tugged at her lips when she saw him sitting at the end of the bar. He wasn't what she would call handsome, an average build with fine brown hair and brown eyes that scanned the room, occasionally pausing slightly on the women that appeared to be on their own. Was he looking for something just as she was, she wondered.

She walked towards the bar, her stride steady and confidant. The heeled black pumps gave her hips a natural, sexy sway attracting masculine attention and holding their interest as she walked by. She stopped by a vacant stool next to the man and slid gracefully onto it, placing her purse on the counter in front of her.

"Boy, what a journey I've had. I swear that the transport gods were against me today. Have I missed much of the convention?"

The man turned in his seat and looked her over, lingering on her slender figure and long, smooth legs. From the slow appraisal she guessed that he liked what he saw. "Not too much. We had the usual long, drawn out introductions this morning and then this afternoon they gave us a brief insight into the aims and objectives of the convention. Hopefully things will be better tomorrow." He picked up his wine glass and tilted it to her. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Oh, please. White wine and soda would be great.” She smiled gratefully at him as he called the bartender over and ordered her a drink. “I've been needing this all day. I've never known a journey as problematical as this one was today." She took a sip of her drink and sighed appreciatively. "Aah, I needed that. I'm Suzanne Smith." She offered her hand to him, trying not to withdraw when he held on to it for longer than was necessary.

"George Watson," he replied. "You been to one of these do's before?"

"No, this is my first. My boss thought that it would be good experience for me but I'm not so sure. I mean, does anyone learn anything about selling stuff that's really useful in the outside world? No one I've spoken with has said that they're useful.” She took another sip of her drink, looking suggestively at George. “Hopefully it won't be too much of a waste of time."

George saw her look and pulled his stool closer. "This is my seventh convention and they're not too bad to attend. Occasionally there's something new to learn but more often than not they're great for networking and meeting people. I've made some great contacts whilst I've been here so they do have their uses."

From the look in his eye and the way he was studying her mouth Suzanne guessed that his contacts weren't always business ones. "I'm always keen to meet new people. Since I split with my boyfriend I've been finding it hard to mix with the people we saw together. The people I meet through work tend to be my only acquaintances these days.”

"That's the problem with relationships and friends. When the relationship ends friendships become awkward because people feel they have to take sides."

"Sounds like you've had that experience," Suzanne commented, hoping to draw him out.

"No, not me but people I know have had it. I try and keep to just my own circle of friends rather than sharing them too much. That way no one has to take sides."

Suzanne took a long sip of her drink, giving George another glance from the corner of her eye. "You know, this being my first convention, I don't know anyone here. I hope you don't mind if I hang around with you? Maybe we could share notes."

"Hang around all you like, sweetie. Friends are what make these events, you know."

"Well, here's to friendships," Suzanne said and raised her glass.

"To friendships," George said returning her smile and letting his eyes linger once more on her mouth.


Two hours later and she was almost ready to call it a night. George had flirted with her but not pushed for anything further. She was beginning to wonder if the evening had been a waste of time and that she would have nothing to report except a sore head in the morning from the wine that she had drunk. She had been careful to drink slowly so that she wouldn’t get over intoxicated but even so, between them they had gone through several bottles and she could feel its effects on her body.

George finished his wine off and stood up. "Well, I'm beat. I think I'll head off to my room for some shut eye." He looked her over from bottom to top, his eyes lingering on her chest as though he was mentally undressing her before lifting and meeting her clear, blue gaze. "Fancy joining me for a night cap or something?"

"A night cap? I think I've had enough alcohol this evening." She smiled seductively at him. "What was the something that you had in mind? Coffee perhaps?" Her eyes indicated that she hoped there would be a more productive end to the evening.

"Oh, I don't know. A little talking, a little touching..." he let his hand lightly cover hers, his fingers slowly caressing the back of her hand. "Who knows where it could lead?"

Suzanne fought the urge to pull her hand from his. "Who knows, indeed? Which room are you in?"

"512. It has a nice, comfy bed and plenty of supplies if they're needed."

"Okay, let me get a couple of things from my room and I'll see you there." With a seductive smile she gathered up her purse and headed for the lobby and the lift to her room, confidant that he would soon be hurrying to his room to get ready for her arrival. Not that she was going to turn up. She had what she had come to get and now she was going to go to her room, sleep off the wine that she had consumed and tomorrow she would report back to Mrs Watson to let her know that her husband had been cheating on her on his away trips. With this evidence that she had collected, Mrs Watson should be able to claim a sizable chunk of her husband's fortune in their forthcoming divorce.

Exiting the lift she walked down the corridor to her room, pulling the key from her purse as she walked. She could not wait to take those pumps off. They were really hurting now and all she wanted to do was take them off and soak in the tub before climbing into bed. She nodded to the maid stacking towels on her cart, too tired to even question why she was working so late. 

She inserted her key in the door and pushed it open, squealing as a hand pulled her inside the room and closed the door behind them. Her cry of fear was smothered beneath familiar lips as a kiss ignited flames within her that threatened to engulf them both.

"Mark," she gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't stay away any longer. I needed you too much, I was dying without you." Hands roamed her body, burning her with his touch.

"But your wife, we said we wouldn't, not until the divorce was final ..." her voice tailed off as she started to succumb to his touch, all conscious thought going from her mind as it always did when they were together.

"She doesn't know. She thinks I'm in London. I had to see you, be with you." Strong arms scooped her up and carried her over to the bed. "I love you."

"Oh Mark," Suzanne whispered, knowing that what they were doing was wrong but unable to fight the desire that burned between them. He was her life, her love and she was nothing without him. "I love you, too," she cried as he joined her on the bed and then there was no more talking between them.


Outside the room, the woman in the maid's outfit smiled to herself as she pocketed the small video camera and pulled out her mobile phone. Scanning through the address book she found the name she was looking for and called the number. "Mrs Winters, this is Annabel Crofton. You were right to be suspicious about Mark's trip. He's here, at the hotel with Suzanne Smith just as you thought." She was silent for a moment as she listened to the other woman. "Yes, I'm sure that the evidence I've got for you tonight along with everything else should get you at least half of his estate. I'll see you in the morning and we can prepare your case with your lawyer."

Ending the call she smiled to herself and walked over to the lift. Another good result achieved. Cheating husbands always slipped up and made mistakes if you waited long enough.