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She was walking through the rooms, down the hall in and out. She walked without purpose, her high heels echoing on the newly polished wood floors of the empty house. She knew this was the last time she would walk through the place that had been her home for the past seven years. The woman was not overly sad at this aspect although she thought perhaps she should be.

Right now she was completely void of emotion. It was easier this way. An escape from the throbbing all encompassing pain that flowed with each beat of her heart. She could block her emotions for short intervals, but she still couldn’t control the memories that would come uninvited and unwanted into her mind. Wrenching the control from her, foisting her over the abyss of emotional tumult. Even now with her departure the memories came.

She had been intrigued with Kylie almost immediately. The straight little wife with her straight little life. Living out what some supposed was the American dream. Safely ensconced with her philandering husband in the comforts of upper-class suburbia. Oh she had played the game all right but somewhere along the way she had broken the rules. She had fallen in love, and for that she’d had to pay dearly.

She remembered when she’s first seen Kylie across the room at the charity luncheon for the Benefit for the arts foundation. The speaker had been tediously boring and self absorbed and Kylie had seemed like a beacon of light amongst the boring society Jane Doe types. Her tan skin seemed to glow and because she’d been sitting directly in front of window her seemingly brown hair had been proven to have reddish undertones. She was wearing a red suit and her nails were painted to match perfectly. Every now and then she would reach to smooth an imagined piece of hair behind her perfectly formed ears. Each time she lifted her hand the woman couldn’t help but notice the gigantic diamond engagement ring as well as the Platinum wedding band glittering in the sunlight.

The woman had thought she’d been covert in her observation but the next time Kylie had reached to brush the hair behind her ear she had looked directly into her eyes and held the gaze for a few moments before winking and turning away.

She didn’t have to think too much about the interest she had seen registered in Kylie’s knowing gaze. Nor was she concerned with the presence of a wedding ring on her finger. In fact sometimes it was easier with the married ones. They didn’t expect any sort of long-term commitments nor did they expect her to be some sort of female version of Prince Charming sent to save them from whatever plagued them. The married ones were just looking for sex. Hell most of them figured they weren’t cheating because their lover didn’t have a cock.

She had never understood this particular reasoning. She doubted very much that if she loved someone enough to promise until death do us part, and mean it even for a moment that she would be happy to walk in and find them having sex with anyone. She could just about see the scene, coming in early from work and finding her woman riding some man. “Oh baby I thought you were cheating on me but now I see that it’s a man so everything is peachy.” The foolishness of the thought almost made her laugh out loud.

Pushing her chair back from the table and stood exiting the dining room and entering the lobby of the Bilmont hotel. She walked around a bit stretching her legs. The woman wanted to leave. She had already paid for the three hundred dollar a plate luncheon although the food had been only so-so. She had also written a five thousand-dollar check for the charity so she felt no guilt at walking out on the boring and stodgy speaker. She did however remember the interest she had seen in the eye’s of the woman in red and she didn’t want to leave without at least finding out her name. As if her thoughts had beckoned the woman she saw her standing near the door of the dining room.

Kylie adjusted the jacket of her red suit and approached the woman she had seen watching her earlier.

She stepped up to the woman and extended her hand.

“Hello my name is Kylie.”

The woman took her hand shaking it but not releasing it.

“I’m Karen It’s nice to meet you.” As she said this she ran her thumb over Kylie’s hand and smiled slowly.

Kylie pulled her hand away blushing slightly as she felt a hint of arousal sweep through her.

She had never pursued a woman before but something in Karen’s gaze had pulled her in. She had flirted with this woman only because she had seemed so very interested in her. It had been a long time since Kylie had seen outright lust directed at her and she liked the feeling, so here she was talking to the woman who could potentially be her first female lover as well as her first infidelity.

She and David had loved each other, but she doubted she was ever in love with him. They were friends who had gotten married confusing love for in love and caring for passion. She had admitted this to herself and she knew he had probably come to the same conclusion, orhangazi escort but in the 14 years they’d been married neither had admitted it to the other. She knew David had been unfaithful in the past and present and there was every indication he would continue to be unfaithful in the future. She didn’t really care at this point, her life as she knew it was based on being the Mrs. in Doctor and Mrs. David T Michaels.

In the beginning after she had helped him through medical school and his residency he had told her she had done her bit. She wouldn’t have to work for a while.

She had accepted this, although she had gone to college. She had taken a while off from working reveling in her new role as the doctor’s wife, before she knew it two years had passed and David was quite established leaving the hospital and starting his own private practice. The novelty of being a stay at home wife had worn off quickly and she was ready to get back to work. David had told her it wouldn’t be appropriate for his new image to have her working, something about how people would assume that his practice wasn’t thriving if they saw his wife working. She had accepted it. She had been kicking and screaming but eventually she had accepted it. A few months later when David had suggested that she join up with some of the “girls” in their societies and clubs so she would be amused. She had accepted that too, not even bothering to tell him that a few years ago the suggestion alone would have amused her plenty.

Four years into the marriage she was completely dependent on David, her friends were the wives of his friends and colleagues. She had no money of her own and aside from the various societies and clubs busy work nothing to occupy her time. She had already begun to realize that she and David had a passionless marriage and that David had effectively woven her life so fully with his that it would be nearly impossible to define her as an individual. She was David’s wife nothing more.

Still, they had sex although there was no real passion. She could predict that every Tuesday and Friday like clockwork that they would have sex, a kiss on the lips then the neck then her breasts then straight to missionary sex her on the bottom him on top. Seven or eight minutes of him pumping away and then it would be over before she’d even broken a sweat. He would seem almost angry if she tried to initiate or take charge of the sex act. If she kissed him or fondled him he would grow tense and move away telling her how busy or tired he was. Kylie began to think it was her fault. She joined the gym worked out although she hadn’t really needed to. She tried sexy negligee’s and downright nudity and still he rebuffed her advances telling her it just wasn’t proper for her to act so brazen and insinuating that she was no more than a whore.

She knew that a number of her girlfriends had lovers, but she couldn’t bear the thought of being the pool boy’s Tuesday rotation. A suburban cliché.

She had also wanted children but David had always put it off telling her that it wasn’t the right time. She realized that with him it would never be the right time and now she was glad. She couldn’t imagine bringing a child into this union. She was a different woman than she had been at the start of the marriage. She recognized the dysfunction in her life and had no wish to pass it on to an offspring. She had no illusions or delusions on what David would be like as a father and she knew without a doubt that she wasn’t strong enough to battle it out with him on every issue a child in the home would have raised.

Instead she had thrown herself into charity spending David’s money on the less fortunate. The starving children endangered species, diseases, and finally her “baby” The Benefits for the arts. She had her masters in the arts and if this was the only way she could have her hand in the pot then so be it. She had after all helped make her bed so now she would have to lie in it. Here she was 35 years old, childless, married for fourteen years to one of the leading cosmetic surgeons in Boston, the head or on the board of more than ten charities.

Karen watched Kylie noting the range of emotions that played in her eyes in the space of a moment. She would have to be careful with this one. Already she saw that despite the polished veneer, this was no run of the mill suburbanite wife out trolling for a fuck. There was more than that in her eyes and it hadn’t escaped her notice that the woman had hesitated at the handshake but still Karen felt drawn to this woman, Her thinly veiled vulnerability had piqued her curiosity.

“Are you going back in there”?

Kylie’s low-pitched voice broke through Karen’s reflections.

“I don’t think so. You?”

Kylie thought for a moment. “I really should. I am the head of the board”

Karen raised an eyebrow waiting for an answer.

Kylie realizing that the woman wanted a conclusive answer decided all at once that she wouldn’t go back. For the first time in years she put the feeling of supposed to out of her head and said “you know what I don’t think I will.”

Karen smiled. “Do you want to get something to eat?”

Kylie looked nonplussed for a moment. “We just ate.”

“No nilüfer escort we just attended a charity luncheon. I barely touched my food and neither did you.”

“I am a little hungry.”

“Good because I’m fucking starving.”

Kylie laughed because she hadn’t expected the well-dressed woman to use such language Her own presumption struck her as funny too.

Outside the valets retrieved their respective cars and with Karen leading they headed away from the Bilmont.

Inside her car Kylie reflected a bit on what she was doing. She was excited at the prospect of eating lunch with this beautiful woman. In the space of a few moments Karen had made her laugh and aroused her. She didn’t seem to know she was David’s wife although she had surely noticed the wedding ring. The fact was Kylie was ecstatic that she had managed to attract anyone interesting on her own merits, even if those merits were only her looks. She knew she wasn’t gorgeous but she was in shape and could pass for a younger woman. She thought that her legs were her best features and she took every opportunity to show them off. Her skirts were always a bit shorter than the other “girls” but not so short as to be inappropriate. She also wore the highest stilettos she could manage. She’d never even owned a pair of platforms. And even now she had only two pairs of sneakers used expressly for working out and tennis. She hoped that Karen would still be interested in knowing her after spending a few hours in her presence, though she wasn’t so sure.

In her own car Karen had no such thoughts. She knew she looked damn good and she only wondered why Kylie didn’t have the same confidence. She had noted the other woman’s apparent surprise at being flirted with, though with her looks Karen had assumed that sexual advances were common place. Perhaps she had misinterpreted and, the surprise had only been at the fact that the sexual advance was from a woman.

Pulling into a small restaurant Karen parked her car and waited for Kylie to find a space before heading to the entrance. Karen had never bought any of the other’s here. Mostly because they were too spoiled to enjoy the ambience despite the lack of reputation and over priced food. Also with the other woman she’d known the meal would lead to sex. Most of them didn’t even require the niceties of a pretend relationship only a few of them had ever even bothered to venture outside of a hotel or bedroom.

Karen had a feeling Kylie was a bit different. First off despite her designer suit and shoes she hadn’t seemed at all self absorbed or haughty, secondly although she seemed to be interested in Karen she also seemed strangely hesitant. The thought of seducing Kylie appealed to Karen she was getting a bit bored with having woman practically falling in her lap. Until this moment she hadn’t realized that she wanted a challenge, now that one had presented itself she was more than happy to pursue it. So here she was at her favorite restaurant. She thought maybe she would establish a friendship with the woman and go from there.

Kylie looked around, she had never been here before or even heard of it but she found the interior charming. The tables and chairs were artistically mismatched and although it was daytime there were candles placed on a shelf that ran along three of the four walls. She realized in a moment that the candles were scented a French vanilla and cinnamon smell hung in the air. It was prominent with out being cloying. There were also several paintings around the room positioned in plain oak frames well above the candles. The paintings were very well done, and although the subject matter and style changed from one to another still somehow the pictures seemed have a sameness in their core.

She suspected that all the pictures had been painted by the same artist and whoever had painted them deserved to have a gallery showing. She went from picture to picture inspecting them and coming to the last one she was disappointed to find that the artist hadn’t signed the pictures.

Karen watched the delight on Kylie’s face as she went from canvas to canvas admiring the pictures. She was surprised to see that this woman seemed genuinely interested in art. The pictures were unsigned and unremarkable within the art world, because an unknown artist was always unremarkable to those who cared about the name more than the technique. Karen knew that there were few artists who were recognized for true art and now more than ever, young upstarts with blatant controversy got more publicity than those with real talent. Or worse yet the Nuevo artists who painted a bleeding circle on a red white and blue background and got regaled for the symbolism before some rich fool paid three thousand dollars to hang the picture in their over priced home.

It made her want to gag when people outside or inside of the artistic world made comments comparing the work of these artistic children to the greats commenting how in their time artists like Matisse and Picasso weren’t appreciated either. She wanted to tell them that those artists had introduced new forms of beauty into the world, not vomited pop culture onto a canvas. And that impressionism certainly wasn’t the same as soaking a picture türbanlı escort of the Virgin Mother in piss. In ten years who would remember that artist’s name and who the hell would want the picture in their home or even to see it in a museum?

Kylie turned to her after walking around the room, her face was glowing with excitement. “These pictures are amazing.” Karen smiled at her enthusiasm.

“Do you know who painted these?”


Kylie waited expectantly as Karen walked away seating herself at a table for two. Seeing that the woman apparently wasn’t going to say more Kylie sat as well, momentarily sidetracked.

“Shouldn’t we have waited to be seated?”

“No, here you can just seat yourself. A waiter will be around in a moment.”:

Sure enough just after she had spoken the words a waiter appeared with menus.

For the first time Kylie realized all the male waiters were wearing Dark blue jeans converse sneakers and Wham! T-shirts. The waitresses were wearing varying New Kids On The Block shirts, with short denim skirts and either red or green high top converse sneakers and what appeared to be to be multi-colored leg warmers.

The waiter handed them menus and looked directly at Karen. “Hello Miss. St Thomas it’s nice to have you with us again. Did you ladies want to start with something to drink?”

“Just water for me “

“I’ll have a water too”

She smiled and thanked the man calling him Jonathan although he wore no name tag. Kylie was racking her brain where had she heard the name Karen St Thomas before? She knew she had never seen this woman, she certainly would have remembered. but the name was so familiar. Then it dawned on her suddenly.

“Oh my god you’re the Karen St. Thomas”

Karen was amused. barely anyone ever recognized her name although in her own way she was quite famous. She hadn’t counted on the fact that Kylie was genuinely interested and apparently knowledgeable in art.

“I suppose I am.”

Apparently the woman was speechless at this concept. She picked up her menu and looked it over. Then put it down again. Looking Karen directly in the eye.

“Really Karen? K. Thomas? Really?”

“Really, really.” Karen said nodding her head solemnly before laughing.

Kylie picked up her menu again this time trying to focus her eyes to actually read it.

She couldn’t believe this. Karen St. Thomas was noted as one of the best artists of the time. People vied for interviews with her and paid thousands for her paintings. She had had gallery showings internationally. No one inside or outside of the art world knew what she looked like. The woman was a recluse or so it seemed. She never granted photos and only did interviews and such by phone. For the past almost two decades the artist had been noted only as K. Thomas, but when she had premiered 20 years earlier she had been Karen St. Thomas.

Karen didn’t even bother with her menu. She knew what she wanted. In fact as quiet as it was kept she owned the restaurant. It wasn’t common knowledge but she wanted people to come because they enjoyed the food and the atmosphere. She had no desire for the restaurant to become the hangout for the pretentious art crowd. Barely anyone knew her by her first name in the art world. It had been at 20 years since she used her full name in any showing and not many had been able to link Karen St. Thomas with K. Thomas. Even her sex was up for question in magazines and such since she had never met with any reporters in person. She was amused and curious by Kylie’s almost instant recognition of her name as well as the woman immediately linking past and present identities. Even the media hadn’t been able to do that.

“How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“Know who I was?”

Kylie smiled nervously. “You’re the reason I went to art school. I was 15 the year Karen St. Thomas premièred and she… you were too. I read about your show in the local Art voice and I went to see it I couldn’t believe a 15 year old had gotten her own show. Your work was amazing and I bought two of the pieces. Well my dad did, but I worked to pay him back. Then when I read the reviews I was upset to find that they had called your work trite and lacking. I thought it was great. I couldn’t understand it.

Anyway I was hooked on art more than ever before. I had always has a natural inclination for art but I wanted to learn technique. I took independent art courses and soon I had a pretty good portfolio going. By the time I graduated high school and I was accepted to an art institute. I went to school and managed to get my degree. Anyway after that first show Karen St. Thomas disappeared and I waited to see if you would do another show but you never did. At least not under that name. Four years later I was 19 years old living in New York and I went to a premier show for K. Thomas. I had barely heard anything about this show, a couple of friends thought it would be a gas so we went. Everybody there was talking about how mysterious the artist was. Completely unheard of, nobody knew the sex or even age. When we got there I remembered having seen some of the pieces before. I knew almost immediately that at least five of the paintings there were the originals from the first Karen St. Thomas show. The other’s were new but your style hadn’t really changed. The reviews for the New York show were great and I thought it was funny. You had fooled them the paintings they had called trite and lacking four years earlier in Boston was a breath of fresh air in New York.”:

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