Saturday. How funny. Up until yesterday, it had been such an immense source of joy throughout my listless week. However, as I sat in front of the mirror now, all that filled me was dread.

I sighed as I caked layer after layer of makeup onto my face to give myself a "natural" look. A dusting of eyeshadow and a nice, bold lipstick? Oh no, that was too much makeup. But layer upon layer of foundation, primer, highlighter, bronzer, and setting powder?

I rolled my eyes at Phil and his half-baked logic. But whatever. This whole night was about him and his stupid company anyway.

Runway-ready model or old potato sack, I really couldn't have cared less about what I looked like. So, that being the case, I guess it didn't matter if I just sucked it up and dressed how he wanted to keep the peace for tonight. It was going to be a long night and I didn't need Phil's sour attitude and passive-aggressive behavior making it any more miserable than it already was.

I sighed as I set down my brush, giving my makeup a once-over to make sure nothing looked ridiculous. I stood up and took it all in with the dress he chose for me this evening.

Yup. Bland, easy to digest, and overpriced. Your typical "suburban trophy wife" ensemble.

I shook my head. Oh well, I already decided I didn't care what I looked like tonight anyway. Still, there was no harm in adding on something pretty or sparkly, right? Just a dash of spice to help make the whole thing slightly more palatable. At least, to myself, if nothing else.

I opened up my jewelry box, planning to just throw on whatever shiny thing caught my eye first and call it a day. However, as I lifted the lid, something unexpected caught my attention. Something a lot more exciting than some dangly earrings or a string of pearls.

It was the hairclip Mason had given me after our first official "show" together. I smiled as I looked down at it, my cheeks burning with a soft warmth. As my fingers brushed across the smooth surface of the intricate petals, it sent a tingling up my fingertips that spread throughout my body in an instant.

God, so much had happened between then and now that I'd nearly forgotten about it. I don't think I'd ever even asked him why he gave it to me. Although, knowing Mason as I did now, I doubt there was any hidden motivation behind it. He probably just did it because he wanted to. I giggled to myself as I placed the clip into my hair.

It was almost like magic. In an instant, the dull, dowdy dress I'd had on just moments ago transformed into something lively and elegant. Or maybe I was the thing that had changed. The bright-eyed girl staring at me from the mirror right now certainly didn't seem like the same Maggie from a minute ago.

Whatever had changed, the dress or my attitude, there was no denying that I was much happier with the way I looked now. Unfortunately, I wouldn't be able to stay that way. I mean, wearing a gift given by my lover to a dinner party with my husband? That was just asking for trouble.

I reached up to take it out of my hair, but as I did, my hand froze. I took one more glance at the girl in the mirror. Her eyes were pleading, practically begging me not to remove it. I bit my lip as I slowly lowered my hand back to the counter. My fingers drummed across the surface of it nervously.

I mean... couldn't I wear it? It was just one little accessory. Phil would actually have to give me the time of day first to notice it, and considering this "dinner" we were going to was basically just a glorified schmoozing event, I highly doubted that would be the case.

Besides, even if by some miracle he did notice it, I could always explain it away by saying it was something he gave me forever ago. After all, he'd thrown so many overpriced, sparkly things at me over the years that he didn't even remember half of the things that were in my jewelry box. It wouldn't take much to convince him this was just another one of those things.

My heart fluttered as I looked again at the hairclip. I knew it was a bad idea to keep it on, but God, how could I get rid of the one thing I'd put on tonight that actually brought me some modicum of joy? Especially since I knew I'd be spending the rest of the night in upper-middle-class hell.

I grimaced slightly as I remembered that unfortunate fact. Still, the moment my eyes caught a glimpse of that clip in the mirror, all those bad feelings melted away a soft warmth took their place instead.

Yup. That's it. I was keeping it.

I snatched up my clutch from the counter and hurried out of the bathroom before I gave myself a chance to change my mind again.

It was fine. This would all be fine. Phil was too dense and self-absorbed to notice it on his own anyway and I deserved to have something that made this hellish evening seem less hellish. Besides, if nothing else, I'm sure Mason would probably be happy if he knew his gift was finally being put to use like it deserved.

An idea popped into my head at that thought. I grabbed my phone and opened up my camera. I rested my fingertips against my jaw daintily as I gave a coy smile. The hairclip in full view, of course.

A quick snapshot later, I pulled up Mason's number and sent it off to him with a short message:

Sorry about today. Hope this helps to make up for it a bit.

I tucked my phone back in my bag and let out a heavy sigh. Although I meant it in more of a playful way, I really did feel bad about not being able to see Mason today.

I mean, it's not like we made any solid plans and I'm sure he knew that me being married meant that we might have things like this happen from time to time. But still, I didn't like springing it on him at the last minute like this. I'm sure he had been looking forward to this weekend just as much as I had and I didn't feel good letting him know the night before that I suddenly had plans instead.

"Mags, you almost done? We have to go," Phil called from somewhere in the hall.

I rolled my eyes and let out another deep sigh before shaking my head and getting myself into character.

Phil was already standing at the end of the hall when I walked out, arms crossed and tapping his foot. I almost wanted to break character just to roll my eyes again. I mean, come on. Seriously? We didn't have to be there for another hour. Even with traffic, we would still be early. Right on time at the latest.

As my heels thumped softly against the floor he turned his head in my direction. The mild annoyance on his face implied he had probably intended to berate me in one way or another. However, that annoyance quickly slipped away the moment he actually laid eyes on me.

It wasn't too surprising. After all, I'd been wearing nothing but the clothes his mother had given me all week. And while he didn't dare say anything negative against them for fear of ruining his carefully laid plans for romance, I knew better than anyone how much he hated them.

To him, I'm sure seeing me in this dress was like a rainstorm in the desert. Desperately needed and long overdue.

Unfortunately, it also meant that he was thirsty as hell. And, based on the look in his eyes right now, it was going to take a lot more than a couple of cutting remarks on my part to keep him from trying to take a drink tonight.

"Wow, look at you," he murmured, stepping closer. "If I'd known that you were going to dress up like this, I would have changed our plans for the evening."

I had to stop myself from physically recoiling as his arm slunk its way around my waist. God, I did not have the energy to deal with this tonight. Dealing with Phil was already exhausting enough on its own. But horny Phil? For the first time since he told me about it, I think I was actually grateful that we had somewhere to be tonight.

"Darling, didn't you say that we had to get going?" I reminded him sweetly, forcing a smile.

"Ah, right," he said as if suddenly remembering himself. "Don't want to be late or that sleazeball Mark will try to monopolize the clients."

"Well, we certainly can't let that happen," I said pointedly, already heading for the door.

It was a temporary distraction at best. After all, we were about to be trapped in the car together for at least the next half an hour. Still, the chances of him trying to worm his way into my panties there were significantly lower than if we stayed in the house.

With that saving grace in mind, I hurried my way to the car and got inside. Phil followed after a short time later. As we pulled out of the driveway, I couldn't help but catch a glance at Mason's house out of the window. My heart sank slightly as I noticed the light on in his bedroom.

But there was no point in wallowing and regretting the things that could not be changed. I had obligations I couldn't get out of tonight and I'm sure there would probably be times in the future when he would need to do the same too. Such is the nature of fucking your neighbor behind your husband's back.

Like always, my mood soured at the thought of Phil. Only, this time, I also had the misfortune of being trapped in the car with him. I repressed a sigh as I turned to look out the window, watching the darkening silhouettes of the cookie-cutter houses as they passed us by.

Great, we weren't even out of the suburb yet. This was going to be a long ride. I could only hope that he would be too busy planning his assault on the moneybags in attendance this evening to bother speaking to me.

However, it seemed luck was not on my side today. No sooner had the cookie-cutter shapes morphed into the mismatched building of the town than I heard him clear his throat.

"That dress really suits you," he commented.

"Thank you."

Silence quickly filled the car again. I'm sure his hope was that he'd break it with a small compliment and then I'd take the reigns from there, but unfortunately for him, I wasn't exactly in the mood to force small talk tonight.

He, however, seemed undeterred by this fact. "You know, maybe we should do things like this more often. Get dressed up, go out for dinner. I don't think I can even remember the last time the two of us went out just for the heck of it."

"Well, work keeps you busy," I said, shrugging. "Sacrifices have to be made if you want to stay at the top of your game. I get that."

"They certainly do. But still, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to lower the game a bit every now and again for an evening out with the wife." He paused briefly, a small smile on his lips. "Especially when you're looking this pretty. Almost seems a shame that I have to share you with everyone else tonight."

"Can't be helped. After all, this event is important," I explained, trying to divert the conversation as far away from his compliments as possible. "New clients aside, you said it's for charity too, right? It wouldn't look good for us to miss out on something like that.

"Plus, what's the harm in giving back a little bit every now and again? It costs us almost nothing and I'm sure it will do a lot of good for... umm... Who exactly is the charity for again?"

"Ah, I forget. Some kind of medical research or something. Don't worry about it," he mumbled, waving it off vaguely.

Huh, strange. It was rare for him to start bullshitting before we got to the party.

He was clearly lying to me. That much was obvious. What I didn't get was why. I mean, it's not like I hadn't gone to these kinds of events with him before. I knew they were more about socializing than they were about any actual philanthropy.

I also knew that, despite this fact, Phil always made sure to do his research on the subject beforehand just in case a legitimate bleeding heart happened to come. "Big hearts have big pockets," as he liked to say.

As a result, I was also usually debriefed about what the event was for. In case I needed to comment on it in passing conversation. So, the fact that he was being especially vague and cryptic about the details tonight was strange at best and suspicious at worst.

However, I wasn't exactly in a position to complain. That one little question apparently freaked him out enough that he didn't dare to open his mouth again for the rest of the ride. A fact which I was more than happy to take advantage of.

Time moved fairly quickly after that. No sooner had I gotten used to the vague shapes and shadows of the highway than the bright lights of the city illuminated them all. And, soon after, the familiar shape of his office building towered in the distance.

From there, things moved like clockwork. Go to the third floor of the parking garage, take the elevator down to security, quick patdown by the guard who was always just a little bit too handsy, and, finally, take the lobby elevator up to the ninth-floor event center. A pretty standard "trip to the office" for me.

What wasn't standard, however, was the way Phil suddenly wrapped his arm around my waist. He kept his eyes straight ahead, watching the changing floor numbers. The fake smile was already plastered across his face, but I could sense something a bit off with it. Something in his eyes that betrayed the calm and cool demeanor he tried to put on for me. Something like fear.

"Now, Dear, before we arrive, I'd like to remind you that this is a work event. We are here to build a rapport with new, potential clients and show them that we are the kind of people that they'd be happy to do business with.

"Which means that we have to be on our best behavior tonight. Any personal feelings or petty squabbles we may have can be discussed at home, but while we're here, we need to behave ourselves. Okay?"

Although I'm sure his intention was to try to speak to me in a calm and reasonable tone, in true Phil fashion, he just came off as being a condescending prick. Like I was a child, being talked down to by her parent about how to conduct myself at a formal event. As if my entire marriage to him hadn't been one long sham of me performing at events exactly like this.

Which, again, only helped to rouse my suspicions. It had been years since he'd given me the "let's be on our best behavior" speech. What was so different about tonight that he suddenly felt like he needed to tell me again? Was it just because I'd been more bitchy towards him at home recently?

No. That wasn't it. As bitchy as I was, he knew that attitude started and ended at the front door. I knew my role in this relationship and I played it well. He knew he didn't have to worry about something like that.

No. It was something else. Something bigger than that. Something that sincerely shook him to his core and made him feel like I would do something to embarrass him tonight. And as the elevator doors finally slid open, I saw exactly what that something was.

There, in bright, bold letters, a banner was waiting to greet me:

St. Damian's Cancer Research Fund.