Bobbi walked into her spacious master closet and surveyed her options. Designer clothes hung from metal racks, separated and organized by color, season, and style. Summer dresses here, business jackets over there, and an entire wall devoted completely to shoes. Her favorite feature of the closet was the center island, a convenient space to fold clothes that also had drawers for her intimates, accessories, pajamas, and favorite rock band T‐shirts. One corner of the closet was dedicated to golf attire, so she shifted her focus there. She carefully flipped through the polo shirts and pleated pants, dresses, hats, and purses until she found just the right combination. After a long shower and the completion of her meticulous hair, skin, and makeup routine, Bobbi checked the full‐length mirror beside the French doors that led out to her balcony. Bobbi was always stylin' and profilin'—always dressed to the nines. Bobbi credited many of her stylish outfits to D'Shawn, her personal stylist who often did the shopping for her when Bobbi didn't have the time. This was the life Bobbi was used to.

She put her hands on her hips and stared at her reflection. Her commitment to a rigorous workout routine and her husband's unmatched ability to create healthy gourmet meals showed in her tight and muscular physique. She liked the way the pink polo popped against her dark skin, and she ...

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