They have the best table at Pierre’s. I’m not the only one staring.
She is radiant perfection in cobalt silk, candlelight firing her mahogany red mane with streaks of gold. The woman across is in splendid contrast. Tall, thin, in a sharply tailored suit, her face is decadently alluring, her hair cropped like an Eton Fellow.
My dinner eaten unnoticed, I watch intently, relishing the burning looks and intimate touches. Yearning passion flows between them like honeyed wine.
When you love your wife as much as I do, you make sure her birthday’s everything she desires.
So far, so good.
