What started as a high-society event intended to raise funds for education and innovation was in fact an experiment that shocked many.
I stood at the sink with sleeves rolled up and my fingers wrinkled. The kitchen was loud and the constant sound of clanging pans and people shouting instructions felt like too much to handle. On the floor above, in the fancy ballroom filled with chandeliers, wealthy guests sipped wine and enjoyed expensive food. What they were completely unaware of was that the woman washing dishes downstairs was the one who planned the guest list, approved the donations, and owned the house.
My name is Tessa Cross. I’ve been married to Nathan Cross for two years.
My husband, a tech billionaire and founder of one of the most successful companies in the country has always been admired by many. What’s more, his name alone opens doors. And that night, our home was hosting the annual Cross Foundation Gala.
Everyone arrived dressed to impress, but what they left behind was their manners.
That night, when I was supposed to be there welcoming the guests, I wasn’t Mrs. Cross. I was just “staff.”
Instead of wearing a designer’s gown as everyone else who was invited to the event, I pretended to be a member of the serving staff. With my hair in a simple bun, no makeup, and dressed in a worker’s uniform, I wanted to learn what was really hiding behind the polished smiles. How did this people act when there was no one “watching?” Well, I was about to find the answer to that question.
At first, it was just little things, like a side eye from a woman when I brushed past her to a finger snap from a well-dressed man in a velvet tux who didn’t want to wait for his glass of fine wine to be refilled. And then, the small things weren’t that small any longer. On the contrary, as the evening progressed, I started getting insults from the wealthy people who enjoyed my food in my own house. At one point, I was yelled at for standing still even though I was waiting for instructions.
Dana, the event planner, approached me and said I didn’t look presentable enough to be serving on the floor. I stead, she demanded I stay at the kitchen and wash the dishes.
And so, there I was—scrubbing crusted silverware in a kitchen I’d personally designed.
I didn’t say anything, I just observed, because this wasn’t about revenge or theatrics. It was about truth. About character. About seeing beyond the designer labels and perfect appearances to find the real truth.
But then, as I wiped my hands on a towel and prepared to clear another stack of plates, a familiar voice said, “Has anyone seen my wife?”
That’s when I decided to reveal myself. As I went upstairs, and headed straight to Nathan, all eyes were on me. Dana even tried to stop me, saying, “Where do yo think you are going?”
Nathan was confused. Seeing me in a damp apron, with stained sleeves and a massy hair, he said, “Tessa?”
Dana blinked in horror, and some of the guests, those who treated me as though they were better than me just because I was “staff,” shifted uncomfortably.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Nathan said. “What… what happened?”
I didn’t answer because I didn’t need to, since in that moment, everything became clear to everyone in the room. From that moment on, no party ever was the same.
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Bored Daddy
Love and Peace
