Once I dressed, we
left the hotel and drove towards the low-rent area of town.
Samantha drove and seemed to know exactly where she was going, but I
was lost. Then she asked me if I remembered Amanda.
I hadn't even thought about Amanda in months. I know that
sounds hard to believe. I knew that my
wife was an impostor, but it was one of those facts that I didn't ever
think about. Samantha, my wife, was the woman next to me,
driving our rental car. Since she "returned" from Aspen, she
looked better, dressed sexier, and turned herself from a de-facto
member of New York society to one of the centers of its universe.
We loved each other deeply and were both very satisfied in our
lives. I didn't even want to think of Samantha before last
Christmas.
While I had embraced Samantha's changes, I was still curious.
Until last year, another woman lived Samantha's life. Samantha
had not been to her own wedding, or her own debutante ball. I
know it sounds crazy, but I was glad that Samantha took her life back
from the woman who had been living it up until then.
"There she is," Samantha whispered. From the rental car,
we saw Amanda lugging some groceries home. She had given up on
the business look, and was wearing a tan and pink suede outfit with
matching high-heeled sandals. She had lost a significant amount
of weight, and maybe a little modesty, given the length of her
skirt.
My wife got out of the car and walked over to Amanda's door.
She came back out and they discussed something at the door to her
apartment. They both went inside as I sat there in the car,
wondering what was going on.
Within five or six minutes, Samantha emerged carring a shopping
bag. Amanda followed her, wearing a robe and mairbou
slippers. She walked over to the car and looked at me.
Samantha put the bag in the back seat, and got into the car as Amanda
leaned into my window.
"I can't believe it," Amanda started.
I waited for the anger to develop, but it never came.
"Let me get this straight," she said to Samantha. "You're
going to come back to my apartment tonight, wearing my outfit.
You're going to bring this guy, who's willing to pay double my normal
rate. And you'll even do him for me?"
She clicked her gum blankly and said, "Whatever, I've done a lot
kinkier for a lot less money. I think you rich people have the
strangest fetishes. I'll tell you what, missy, if you want to
wear my clothes and take over my duties, you're welcome to any time."
"I know," Samantha offered, as she started the car and drove
straight to the airport.