Hoax Husband - Candice M. Wright Page 0,44

think most people see when they look at me?” she asks, blowing out a frustrated breath.

“I think they see a gorgeous girl they want to emulate. Girls want to be like you and guys want to be inside of you,” I answer immediately.

She slaps my chest playfully and laughs, but it has an edge of sadness to it, which I don’t like one little bit.

“You, hubby, are clearly biased, but I appreciate it. In real life, though, that's not the case.” She sighs and looks back up at me.

“Back on my side of Manhattan, I blend in. I'm just one of the masses in all my Technicolor glory. On this side of town, though, I'm judged and found lacking before I've even opened my mouth. After a year away from it all, I forgot what it was like. Almost. I can change who I am to fit the mold you need me to fill. I've done it before but, Asher, I was so unhappy.

“Have you ever felt like you didn’t belong to the life you were born into? It wasn't always that way for me, but after a while, the expectations grew, and I ended up feeling like I was an imposter playing dress-up to please the masses. And inside, I was slowly dying.”

I look at her and remember flashes of that night so long ago back in Vegas. The sensible skirt and flattering blouse, sexy in an understated way, but definitely missing the wild flair that I love so much about her.

“I don't want you to be anyone but who you are.” And I mean it. That would be like holding a beautiful butterfly in my hands and wishing for a moth.

“I know, but there will be times, many if this works out between us, where I won't fit into your world. I don't mind dressing up and playing my part for special events, but this,” she waves her hand over her body before looking back up at me, “is as good as it’s going to get on a day to day basis.”

“Skittle, if this is who I get to wake up to every day and slide inside of every night, I'll die a happy man who spent a lifetime bathed in color.”

She stares at me in open-mouthed shock. “Who the hell are you, Asher Sloan?” she whispers, searching my eyes for an answer.

“I'm the man who is about to rectify a wrong. Nobody messes with my wife and gets away with it,” I inform her.

Twenty-Three

Linda

We pull up outside the first boutique we went to earlier in the day, parking in front of the store, giving the assistants that snubbed me an unobstructed view of the Lexus through the large plate-glass window.

I sit patiently as Asher climbs out and prowls over to my side of the car like a man on a mission. Swinging the door open wide, he offers me his hand and helps me climb out.

“Where to first?” he asks, making me hesitate. “Did you see anything that caught your eye?” he prompts.

I think back and remember the black dress with the rainbow-colored sheath beneath it and point to the small store across the street from us.

“Okay, then, that's where we’ll start,” he announces matter-of-factly, taking my hand in his.

I let him pull me along, deftly maneuvering us across the busy street and into the high-end boutique that smells of honey and lavender. An odd combination, perhaps, but it somehow seems to work.

“Can I help you?” a regal sounding voice asks, making both Asher and me turn to look over toward the counter.

A tall, elegant blonde woman in an expensive-looking heather-gray pantsuit walks around the counter, approaching us with a professional smile on her face. Thankfully, she isn’t the woman who was rude to me earlier.

“I hope so. My name is Asher Sloan, this is my wife Linda, and we are here to do some shopping. She was here earlier today and found something she liked but left empty-handed when staff members made her feel uncomfortable. Tell me Miss...” He waits for her to fill in the blanks as I grip his hand, embarrassed.

“Jones. Mrs. Jones,” she answers, looking from Asher to me with a frown on her face.

“Mrs. Jones, right. Are you willing to help us or should we go elsewhere? I have the money, but zero patience for bullshit,” he adds.

I look up at him with a scowl as I elbow him in the ribs before addressing the woman. “What my rude ass of a