The Story about Amanda

My brother, Eric Wilson, was cheating on his wife.

A designer boutique I frequented had just received the season’s latest collection. A sales associate I knew called and asked if I wanted to come in for an early look.

As luck would have it, Eric was there when I arrived. He was lounging in the seating area. His long legs were propped up on the coffee table.

He was probably bored because he was scrolling through his phone. A slender, curvaceous woman stood with her back to me as a sales associate helped her choose a handbag.

She turned around and asked him with a hint of coquettishness, “Eric, what do you think of this one?”

My eyebrows rose with interest. Did she just call him Eric? I knew that businessmen like my brother always had women around them, married or not.

Whether those relationships were innocent was another matter, but those women usually addressed him as “Mr. Wilson,” “Sir,” or “Boss”.

It was the first time I had heard one of them call him by his first name so intimately.

Eric casually looked up from his phone and smiled. “Anything you like is fine with me.”

Tsk, tsk. Just listen to them! In broad daylight, too.

What a pair of cheating tras... Ahem. What a shameless couple.

I walked over and placed a hand on Eric’s shoulder. Then, I mimicked her coy, singsong voice from behind him. “Eric, I want a handbag too.”

Without even turning around, Eric knew it was me. He let out an exasperated laugh. He reached back and gave me a playful swat on the head.

“You little brat, knock it off.”

I affectionately wrapped my arms around his neck from behind and looked at the woman. Sure enough, she had stopped browsing. She stood where she was, studying me closely.

She was beautiful and poised, almost like a movie star. More importantly, she did not seem like just another pretty face. She looked sharp and composed, like a woman who knew exactly what she was doing.

Even after seeing how affectionate Eric and I were, her expression did not change, nor did her smile falter. Only a hint of wariness entered her eyes as she hesitantly asked Eric, “This is...”

Eric kept his answer brief. “My sister, Emma.”

She relaxed almost imperceptibly, then regarded me with a curious expression. “Oh, so you are his sister,” she said before introducing herself. “I’m Tiffany McCann.”

After a brief pause, she looked at me and added, “We’ve met before, but you’ve probably forgotten.”

Her name did sound vaguely familiar, though I had no idea when we might have met. I ignored her and leaned closer to whisper in Eric’s ear. “Does Amanda know you’re shopping for handbags with another woman today?”

Amanda Wilson was my sister-in-law, Eric’s wife. However, the threat did not faze him. He did not so much as furrow his brow before replying indifferently, “Pick whichever handbag you want.”

I put on a wounded expression.

“Is that really the kind of person you think I am? Amanda and I are so close. Do you think you could buy my silence with one handbag?”

Eric remained perfectly composed. “Three. That’s my final offer.”

I knew he did not actually care whether Amanda found out about the other woman. He was certain she would never dare ask him for a divorce.

Knowing better than to push my luck, I immediately perked up and said sweetly, “Deal! You are the best brother ever.”

It must have been my lucky day. I had scored three free designer handbags without paying a cent.

I did not care about the style. I simply chose the three most expensive ones and was done in no time.

As I was leaving, Tiffany gave me an overtly enthusiastic goodbye, but I ignored her. I might not have liked Amanda, but I disliked shameless women like her even more.

It was not until I was halfway home that it suddenly hit me. I finally remembered why the name, Tiffany, sounded so familiar.

Tiffany McCann was the name of Eric’s first love. She was the only woman he had ever been serious about before he married Amanda.