I am a very wealthy businessman. Plain and simple. I make money, my money makes money, and all in all, I live a very cushy lifestyle. More recently, I do tend to find myself bored from all of the work I do, alone in my study. I only wish that I had someone to spend my days with, talking, laughing, and spending romantic getaways. However, I do not have the time for any such relationships. At conventions, I always seem to be the odd one out, never having a partner to bring with me to my dates. This could not do, and I was about to change that.

I had to start somewhere anonymous, as to hide who I truly was from anyone who would plot my downfall. I’m not paranoid, I just like to err on the side of caution. So, it seemed that the seediest and most anonymous website of all would have to do. Craigslist. I pondered about what I could write, how I could convince a young woman to spend her time in my house with nothing to do. What would I have to offer that they would want? I knew I wouldn’t have the time to do anything with them, so I needed to find a candidate that had two of my favorite parts of any woman. Their face, and their feet.

The listing I wrote read as follows. “Offer: Be my trophy wife. I am a male (27) with no time on my hands, and no true love to give, however, I do have money. If you are willing to live in my house and tend to my whims, I am willing to pay $5000 per month. Food, room, and board are all free. Message me on twitter at @twanonymous73 and we will begin the interview process.” I had to think about that for a moment, then after seeing other listings, decided to add, “Serious offers only.”

At first, there were no replies. Days went by, then a week, then nearly two. Only one message had been received, but it was only a sex bot attempting to steal information. Damn scammers. However, on the 12th day after listing, I received a message from a woman named Jessica.

“Hi!” the message began, enthusiastically. “I’m in big need of money, and your offer sounds amazing. One question I have for you before we begin: will I be able to hide that I’m doing this from my friends?”

My heart fluttered. Looking at the gorgeous woman in the profile picture, I had to respond quickly. “Yes, your friends won't even have to know you are here.”

“Great! What do you need from me?”

My heart jumped once more. I took out a list that I’d made, things scratched out and rewritten. “Please send me a picture with your beautiful face, and a picture of your feet.”

When I sent this, an hour went by. Then two. My heart was racing. Did I miss out on possibly the best girl I could have asked for in this position? The answer to that question turned out to be no, as I received a message back with two photos attached. “Didn’t think you’d be into that, but that’s fine! I really need the money. Just let me know if these are to your liking.”

The pictures floored me. The woman in the first picture was caucasian with a beautiful face. Her silky smooth skin on display, complimented perfectly by her red lips. Those green eyes of hers told me she could be irish, however her blond-ish brown hair lead me partially astray. It didn’t matter in all honesty, her face was absolutely stunning. And then I scrolled down.

I could not take my eyes off of those perfect soles. Creamy white complexion. Toes perfectly aligned in a spade pattern. Her nails looked as if they were coloured black, a stark contrast. They didn't look as if they’d seen manual labor a day in their life, let alone performed it. I gulped, saving those pictures to my camera roll. I sent her a text with my address, a check for her flight, and with that, I could only wait.

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It only took a day and a few hours. Turns out, she lived in America. Once she found out that the large check I’d written hadn’t bounced, she didn’t bother to wait. It was like it was fate.

The limousine I’d hired might have given away my stature as a wealthy man, and I worried that someone would figure out just who I was, but as soon as I saw the girl on my doorstep, all of that anxiety melted away. She smiled up at me with her perfect lips, those wrinkles by her eyes accenting her adorable dimples. She chuckled nervously as I ushered her inside, calling away any housekeepers.

“So, um… Is there anything you need to do before you send the money? I mean, you’re paying to rent me here, so I suppose you can do what you like.”

It was music to my ears. “Yes, please. I’d like to remove your shoes and socks, and check out everything that I asked about over the messages. I apologize if this is a bit forward.”

She shrugged and stayed silent, motioning towards her shoes. I took them off, one by one, and peeled away the socks. They looked just as every bit as gorgeous as they had in that picture. I held them in my hands, and marveled at their beauty. They were a women’s size US 10 ½, just large enough to spill out over my hand. I ran a finger down their length- which elicited a chuckle from Jessica- and noted just how silky smooth they were. I couldn’t control my urges, and leaned in to feel their softness upon my face. Jessica didn’t bat an eye; she was more concerned with how her bank account would look after this. I took a deep breath. Slightly musky, yes, but with a hint of roses. Divine.

When I finished with my inspection, I smiled at her. I nodded, and pulled out my phone. She looked up and smiled back. “I’m ready to send the money.”

“Wonderful!” Jessica exclaimed. She was already hitting the refresh button as much as she could. “When will it hit?”

“It should hit in 3… 2… 1…”

As soon as I hit the button, something weird happened. Now, I did mention I was a wealthy businessman. However, my fortune was brought on from a special app. A body reduction app. And I used something that I coded specifically for this moment. See, as soon as I hit the button to transfer my funds, Jessica’s body had been reduced to nothing more than her feet and her head. Her feet wiggled wildly, however, her head stayed dormant. I smiled to myself, picking up all the pieces left. I walked back into my study and placed the head down on a shelf just to the left of my desk, with a placard that had the name “Jessica” stenciled in. I let it rest there, her eyes stared unmovingly out into space. Those beautiful, succulent feet? I brought them to my bedroom for some “private study”.

Now, I am a wealthy businessman, and I never go back on my word. Every month, I would transfer $5000 into Jessica’s bank account. However, I had her on a technicality. As long as I kept paying her, she would be obligated to stay with me. As my “trophy” wife. I had a lot of money to spare, with each yearly profit bringing in hundreds of thousands of dollars.

So Jessica would be with me for a long, long time.