She breathed in as she tried to button the skirt of her red Armani business suit. It was useless. She gained at least 3 pounds. She immediately slipped off the Armani skirt until it fell on the floor by her ankles. That's what I get for stuffing myself with chocolate everyday for the last two weeks, she thought irritably. She couldn't help it. Although she knew it was only a temporary fix, chocolate is the only thing that pacifies her, soothes her wounded pride, eases the dull ache in her heart, calms the anger and bitterness that kept recurring every time she remembered Tony slept with Kathleen.
She kicked the skirt in frustration. She touched either side of her head with both hands. She could feel a headache coming. She needed another Hershey bar. She stared at herself in the full length mirror by the closet. She was left with nothing but her lacy Blush Pink Victoria Secret under garments. Her stomach was still flat, her legs and limbs long and shapely but she still felt horrible despite the attractive woman with honey brown eyes that stare back at her from the full length mirror.
She gasped in horror and scrambled for the suit on the hanger to cover herself. She turned around from the full length mirror and faced Tony who was hovering by the slightly opened door. "How long have you been standing there?" she asked, clutching the red suit in front of her chest.
Tony was embarrassed. He should have walked away when he noticed her getting dressed but he found himself rooted to the spot, admiring her luscious figure, wondering how her skin would feel beneath his hands. How did he ever manage to look at another woman?
"I was bringing up your newly pressed business suits and the door was left ajar. I didn't know you were..." he explained, holding up the clothes for her to see.
"It's okay...uhmm...just leave them on the bed and I'll hang them myself," said Angela. She was still clutching the red suit in front of her as she faced Tony while he laid the clothes on the bed. Angela didn't realize that her back was in full view of Tony because of the closet mirror reflecting it. Tony tried not to stare but he couldn't help admiring her slender back and round tush on the mirror.
Angela felt disconcerted as she noted the ravenous look in Tony's eyes. "Thanks. I can manage." She gently pushed him out of the door and slammed the door shut. She leaned her back on the door and blew the few strands of blond hair in front of her face. She threw the Armani suit she was clutching on the floor.
Why does he have to look at me that way? He looks at me as if I were some sort of dessert when he had the gall to be with another woman. I hate you Tony. She felt so annoyed she screamed in frustration before she threw herself on the bed beside the Burberry suits Tony laid on the bed. Where the heck were the Swiss Chocolates Peter gave me?
Her piercing scream brought Tony bursting into the room without knocking. "Angela, are you okay? What's the matter?" asked Tony as he sat on the bed beside her. He touched her shoulders to calm her down which he didn't realize was a big mistake until he felt the sharp sting of her palm on his cheek.
He did not intend to kiss her nor to run his hands down her spine but the moment he touched her scantily clad form on the bed he found himself kissing her passionately. He didn't even realize he'd been kissing her until he felt her slap him.
"Leave me alone," cried Angela. "You ask me what's wrong. You are what's wrong. Leave me be. Go back to Kathleen."
Her slap didn't bother him as much as the sound of Kathleen's name. Kathleen's my girlfriend but why does her name fill me with shame? Why does her name sound like an off-key melody, and her image a mismatched part of a puzzle? Why does Angela's hollow stare fill me with dread...