I rolled over and saw Samantha striding around in a pair of thigh-high boots. She was on the telephone, talking to somebody. Without asking, I knew that it was Amanda. "Ok, and what shoes? Oh, good idea. Yes.... OK..." I got up and Sam watched me walk out of the room, but did not acknowledge me. I sat in the kitchen drinking some orange juice; waiting to see what outfit Amanda was having my drugged wife dress in.
Ten minutes later, I heard footsteps and looked up. Samantha walked down the hallway, wearing a beautifully tailored suit and Chanel heels.
"What are you staring at?" she sniped at me. Well, she definitely was Samantha now. "It's almost noon and you're not dressed? What the hell is wrong with you?" She announced that she was having lunch with the ladies, and walked out the door.
I went into her closet and looked around. It was surprising how many of Amanda's trashy outfits were in there. Hanging right next to a $3,000 suit was a silver spandex dress. A pair of open toed platform slides stood right next to a pair of Christian Loubotins. On her custom wooden boot trees were a pair of Ralph Lauren Purple Label boots, two Stuart Weitzman pairs, and the vinyl thigh-high boots, folded down to fit. I found the blue suit that Amanda had worn earlier this morning, and the cheap shoes - "100% man made materials."
I lost track of time spying in my wife's closet. I showered ..
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