He held her hand and gently helped her down the steps. Both blonde, hair ruffled, a handsome couple, like some Gods from ancient times only their clothes stylishly contemporary, blowing in the draft. Ducking their golden heads to avoid being chopped by the rotors, they emerged into the spotlight.
The paparazzi went crazy, oohing and aahing over the two, shutters rising and falling, click, click, click, “This way, Sir” “Ma’am” “Smile please” “Just a moment”!
“Click, whirr, click, click, whirr, whirr!”
They sashayed away, smiling, turning, posing. The perfect couple! Good looking and powerful! A heady combination.
A humongous, shiny, black limousine swept up silently and whisked them away to their destination. Where the whole drama would be repeated again.
She recalled the day when she was the undisputed queen of the glamour world. He a business tycoon. She turned heads wherever she went, specially males, leaving a wake of slayed chauvinistic drooling gaffers. The females… they didn’t trust her, too little clothing and too much of sex appeal!
He couldn’t take his eyes off her all evening. She sensed his eyes on her and her smile was extra long that evening and her laugh had an extra tinkle. Well, another one scalped. At the time she had no idea who he was, though he did seem to look familiar. When she was about to leave, waiting for her car, he turned up at her elbow. The million watts smile up close was too dazzling, she felt like Cinderella at the ball.
“Hi! I am Donald! What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone?” drawled the warm and husky voice in its rich baritone. The confidence oozed into the baritone.“Hi! Sheila here… that’s a cliched line!” she turned on her tinkling laughter.
“ May I escort the prettiest girl at the ball? I am quite honourable you know!”
That’s when she recalled, Donald Frump…. The billionaire tycoon, who had just dumped his fourth pretty wife. What luck! If she played her cards right, she could be Mrs. Frump V.
The tinkling laughter rang out again, with her leaning forward a little more, to reveal a little more of her delectable cleavage, and brighten her smile further, if it were possible. “The privilege is mine Donald! Thank you!” She still doesn’t recall , how and when she ended up in his plush penthouse apartment reeking of riches and risqué! But it felt great to be pampered, to be the cynosure of a magnetic moneybags.
Their romance though under wraps initially was engineered to be leaked out to all the social media and platforms.
On his yacht, while on a cruise among the virgin, unexplored arctic ocean somewhere north of Alaska, they were enjoying sipping wine on the freezing deck as they watched whales frolicking in the freezing water. He got onto his silicon propped knee like a young Adonis, “Will you marry me my Angel?”
Surprised and taken aback she blinked at the proffered ring. The world’s biggest solitaire had found itself embedded in a Tiffany ring (price only revealed on enquiry). The beautiful face was radiant with her famed smile, and she jumped up and showered a volley of kisses shouting:
“Yes, yes, yes!”
“Oh, my Darling, I am the luckiest woman in the world!”
“You are, and the most beautiful!”
Her dream came true. They were married in a fairy tale wedding at the (fake) Taj Mahal in Vegas, the talk of the town for weeks and months.
Together they rode the wave of popularity, touching the zenith. At such heights the voices of nay sayers, doesn’t reach, nor do the curses of all whose privileges had been snatched or robbed.
His fifth, but yet the first, in the country!
The car came to a smooth halt. And the security service perfectly sculpted, perfectly trained hunks jumped to open the doors for them. She flashed a warm smile and murmured her thanks as they glided up to their suite. The whole floor was booked for them in the dazzling city. Next day they were off to see the Taj Mahal (the real one), the eighth wonder of the world, a monument dedicated to love.
As they reached the suite. He turned to shut the door, a frown adorning his world-famous face. And marched off to his bedroom. His secretary should be there. A nubile young thing, his latest playmate. Cigars in place for sure. Sheila proceeded to her room, to an empty king-sized bed!
This sham was the truth of their fairy tale marriage! The most powerful couple in the world reside on a bed of lies!
Photo by Darsh Nishar on Unsplash
