Jamie never did anything with that money, aside from paying off heroutstanding student loan debt. That barely put a dent in it. In fact, she was already back up to four million because of the generous interest she accumulated.I guess I’m paranoid. She never wanted to think about it… but what if she needed this money to live off one day? Jamie had no reason to believe she and Etta were on the road to breaking up, but one never knew.
Instead, the money she spent came from Etta’s random allowances. Recently, Jamie had asked for five grand to pay for her bridesmaid dress for Monique’s wedding. Etta thought it pertinent to throw her ten. Things like that added up. Jamie had lost her shyness over asking Etta for money, especially if it was for something as important as a bridesmaid’s dress for their mutual friend’s wedding, but she didn’t make a habit out of it. She didn’t need to. Etta was too generous with her millions when she was in love.
So she had thirty-grand burning in her wallet. She wouldn’t spend more than five or so, depending on the kind of ritzy places they went to… but she was in love with the latest Ashley St. Marc collection…What a time for me to behave: when I can afford designer gear.
To be fair, one of the first things Jamie learned about living in Etta’s world was that shehadto dress expensively. Every time she went out with Etta, went upscale shopping, or had brunch with someone in a high-rise restaurant, Jamie had to wear something expensive, recent, and flattering. Her old, more comfortable, and price-smart clothes languished in her walk-in closet, only coming out when she was home alone or going out with old friends.
Even today she wore a designer dress that hugged her body, and shoes she had to have fixed so they weren’t quite so high. The only piece of her ensemble that enamored her was her purse. Jamie would never get tired of having high-quality bags that stayed firm and beautiful even after six months of abuse.
Although she was sober enough to drive them back if necessary, her style wasstill nothing compared to the likes of Kathleen, Lara, Eve, and even Monique. They were all used to dressing like this. It was second nature for them. Some of them grew up that way, and then there was Monique, who studied the world of the rich better than Jamie ever could. Now she understood what Etta meant by going to Monique for advice. She was the only one they could ask who wouldn’t judge them for it – because she hadbeenthere.
“All I want is to take a screwdriver and jam it right here.” Eve pointed to her temple. “I’m getting too old to binge drink.”
“You are the youngest one here,” Kathleen pointed out.
“By like… what, a year?” Eve gestured to Jamie. “She barely drank last night. I’m doomed, and I’m only a tender twenty-five… wait… twenty-six… fuck, I don’t know how old I am anymore.”
“If it’s any consolation, I don’t know how old you are either. I’m eternally twenty-eight.”
“I’m ready to shop.” Gwenyth shot up from her seat, hoisting her tote bag strap over her shoulder. “We need to buy this one some sexy lingerie for her honeymoon.” She patted Monique’s arm. “Whatever she thinks she already has, isn’t good enough. She needs some second and third opinions.”
The hungover women waved them away. “You all go on ahead. We’re gonna sit here and contemplate the errors of our lives.”
Jamie followed Monique and Gwenyth away from the table. “See you for dinner?” Monique asked.
“Yup.”
Jamie was somewhat relieved that shopping wasn’t a huge group affair. Not that they wouldn’t break off into smaller groups, but Jamie wasn’t in the mood for the ensuing high school drama.I bet these women were vicious as girls.If a rich daughter didn’t go to boarding school somewhere far away, she went to the region’s most expensive, fanciest academy.If I had kids, where would I send them?Jamie wasn’t going anywhere near that questionright now!
She, Monique, and Gwenyth hit up the Miami Design District near downtown. Jamie foolishly assumed it would be an afternoon pastime, but it quickly turned into a hardcore sport as if they were wandering around New York instead.I’ve never been to Miami before… so I had no idea it could be this luxurious in terms of shopping!Jamie should have known better by now. If there was a place to drop thousands of dollars, women like Monique and Gwenyth knew about it.Jamie didn’t buy nearly as much as her friends. She still felt funny dropping mad cash on scarves, shoes and, yes, lingerie. Because heaven forbid they didn’t drop into the top-tier lingerie boutique that had both common lace and silk cuts as well as bondage gear. Heavenforbidthey didn’t shop for both.
“You would look really nice in something like this,” Monique said, draping a lacy crimson negligee against Jamie’s arm. “You have the assets to fill it out well.” She said this while Gwenyth raided a bunch of corsets in the background, sobbing because she never found ones that fit her breast-to-waist ratio, and yet here they were!
“You think so?” Jamie fingered the fine lace, ignoring the exorbitant price tag for something this simple.It better be handstitched for this price.“I don’t normally wear red this dark. Sort of washes me out.”
“Oh, I think it would be very sensual on you.” Monique lowered her voice. “Etta would love it.” She winked, walking away to make sure Gwenyth hadn’t destroyed every corset she put her hands on.
Jamie stared at the crimson negligee, wondering if Monique was right.Etta would like anything I wear… but would she think this is the best?She glanced at Monique. Normally, she wasn’t bothered by the fact Etta used to be in a relationship with Monique. She was the one who ended it, after all, and Monique was on cloud nine with her new lover.Her soon-to-be wife.There was no way those two would ever have something like that again, and there was no evidence that they wanted that. But sometimesit got weird. Jamie would stand there, imagining Etta and Monique together, doing the kinky shit they both loved more than Jamie did. Monique knew Etta well enough in that capacity to confidently say,“Wear this. She would like it on you.”Of course, it was Monique’s job to be that observant about women. A woman she once considered a girlfriend? Oh, she knew everything.
Jamie sighed. If she got this, she better not think of Monique while Etta tore her apart… but then she thought about Etta tearing her apart and decided to buy the negligee.
Once that monkey was off her back, she threw herself into spoiling the bride on her last weekend of supposed freedom. If Monique was tossing a red negligee at her, then Jamie was finding the sexiest black bra and panty set and insisting that her friend model it for them – which Monique declined, gracefully.The modeling, that is. She was more than happy to find a set in her size and purchase it, alongside two corsets, three garters, a new sheer robe for relaxing in, and enough sets to name after the days of the week.The black one better be Saturday. Jamie snuck back when nobody else was looking and bought a set for herself.Hey, I keep thinking about them, I must want them!She could be dangerous in an upscale lingerie boutique!
She had taken a shower to wash off the shopping grime that accumulated when she scuttled from one boutique to another, trying on shoes, salivating over bags – of which she bought two new ones – and slipping coats on and off in the eighty-degree weather. Just because it was tropical in Miami didn’t mean it was anything but cold and rainy back home.
When Jamie came out of the bathroom and wandered toward her small bedroom, she saw Monique’s door ajar, complete with her sitting on the end of her bed, head in her hands and phone clasped to her ear. She couldn’tsee Jamie from that angle.
“I feel like I’m falling apart,” she mumbled, wiping something from her eye. “I’m so stressed out. You don’t even know the half of it.”
Jamie stayed behind the door.I shouldn’t be doing this.Move on. Pretend she saw nothing. That was the appropriate thing to do, right? Yet…
“Don’t patronize me, please.” Rarely did Monique sound so snippy. Then again, this was the woman who raised a loaded gun to her abusive ex. “Fuck off, Helen!”
Jamie held in a gasp.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” Monique pushed her hair out of her face and sat up straight, eyes puffy and not a smudge of makeup anywhere on her skin. “It’s the hormones. Everything is overwhelming me between this weekend and the wedding… I’m sorry.”
All Jamie heard for a few seconds was sniffing.
