Natalie Western was laying out on a deck chair by the pool. She loved laying in the sun, but at her age, she had to be very careful to preserve her skin, so she limited herself to the later hours of the day. Her third husband's mansion was quite large, and the pool was easily Olympic size.
She was naked, of course. In this day and age, no fences or security guards could prevent the Paparazzi from getting pictures of her body, but it was amusing when they had to bother to Photoshop clothing on her naked body, as they couldn't legally publish nudes of her.
She never cared who saw her, of course. Let lesser women weep- at her age, she easily had the body of a woman 10 years her junior. And what a body it was! 5' 10”, with long legs. Perfect breasts, perfect complexion, long golden hair. Flawless beauty- Helen of Troy had nothing on her.
She was a Goddess, and she knew it. Oh, to be sure, when she was younger, she occasionally had lapses in finding work, but now, she was in her prime. Everyone wanted her. Not just to wear their clothes. Women wanted to -be- her (and some men as well). People adored her.
Well, other than her husband. He'd grown tired of her needs, and wanted a divorce. She didn't mind- she certainly didn't need him for sex. She had several boyfriends and girlfriends to choose from. All very pretty, all very young. And thanks to the prenuptial agreement, she would get half of his assets, and there wasn't anything he could do about it.
The fool- he should have realized it was only his wealth that got her into his bed in the first place. Even though she was wealthy in her own right, her desires required more. She wondered if she was still young enough to go through this again. A fourth husband? How tiring.
That wouldn't even get any attention from the press. No, she would have to do something scandalous. A wife, this time. A smile started to form on her lips. She'd find a pretty young heiress, seduce her, and be set for life. She licked her lips. The younger the better. Someone she could shape into the perfect lover, completely submissive to her.
Yes, that would be best. Young enough to be her own daughter!
She frowned, then. The one blemish on her perfect life. Early in her career, she'd been struggling. Her dreams of being a model and an actress seemed dim. As if no one could see she was a flawless, beautiful diamond!
She'd met Jack, and he was different. Wealth didn't matter to him. He worked hard, and he had been so very, very attentive. Perhaps she had loved him, once. Certainly, he was more of a man than any of her pretty boys and her other two husbands.
She shivered at the memory of his strong hands upon her body. Yes, he had been quite good- she'd never had to fake an orgasm with Jack, nor had she ever tried to deny him sex. The mad had tireless stamina, and never left her unsatisfied.
They'd been happy, then. She'd given him a child, despite the risks to her body. What if she'd had to have a Cesarean? The plastic surgery to try and cover up that scar would have been far too expensive, and her career would have been over for sure!
Not to mention stretch marks. Ugh! She'd been a fool in love. But once the baby was born, she realized she didn't want to be a mother. And Jack didn't see the reason to hire a nanny to raise the child.
She refused to breast feed. Bite marks on her perfect breasts? Not to mention the indignity of a breast pump. Let the child have formula. Jack started to work even more, to take care of them both. And she grew to resent her daughter.
Danielle was too scrawny- she'd never be the beauty Natalie was. And she was a Daddy's girl, and a tomboy to boot. She hated dresses and long hair, and girly things. Sometimes she imagined she'd been given the wrong infant at the hospital...but no, the same hair, the same eyes.
She chafed at the marriage. And when she'd gotten a big opportunity, Jack refused to support her dreams. She was a mother now, she needed to be responsible, he'd said.
As their marriage fell apart, she'd taken it out on her daughter. It was shameful, even she admitted that. Worse, she had poisoned her daughter's heart- the girl wanted to stay with her father. There had been such hatred in Danielle's eyes at the custody hearing.
Don't cry, she admonished herself. Tears were bad for the complexion. But she had wept then. Her greatest regret. Well, the girl would be wanting to go to college soon. A free ride couldn't even begin to make it up to her, but it was something she could do. Since she was incapable of being a good mother.
She thought of her own mother, who had lived vicariously through her beautiful daughter. Music lessons, dance lessons, acting lessons. Dragging her to beauty pageants. 'In the end, I was no better than you, Mother.'
The last time they had spoken, her mother had begged for money, and Natalie had laughed in the old woman's face. It had felt good at the time, but now she felt hollow. Empty.
Nothing seemed to satisfy her. Regret, she supposed, was part of getting older. Perhaps that was why she had kept Jack's name all these years. To remind her of what she had given up for her success.
Camille came out to the pool. She was a young thing, barely 23. She was her Girl Friday, Her valet. And warmed her bed many a night. “Miss, there are some young ladies at the front gate. One of them claims to be your daughter.”
Natalie sat up suddenly, removing her sunglasses. “Danielle? Here?”
“Yes, Miss. Do you want to see her?”
Natalie bit her lower lip, a bad habit she'd never quite been able to shake. She felt vulnerable, and not because she was naked, Given her current thoughts, this was the worst time to face her daughter...or perhaps the best. “Yes, please. Let her and her friends in, see they are made comfortable. What do you think I should wear?” Natalie had no idea what sort of outfit was best for confronting her estranged daughter.
“Something modest, yet sexy, Miss? Perhaps the red sundress?”
Natalie smiled at Camille. “Very good. You deserve a reward tonight, Camille. Think about what you want.” She rose and kissed the girl before heading up to her dressing room.
She knew Camille was staring at her backside as she walked. Everyone loved her.
If only she could love someone back.