“Seven PM. Sharp.”
Jamie stacked everything to the side. She wasn’t in the mood to think about Etta’s bachelorette party.
Oh, shecouldn’t help it!
What were they doing? Where were they going? How drunk was she going to get… or would she drink her usual amount and pretend to be interested in what was going on? Who else was going? Would there be other bachelorettes and married women there, or was Etta going off to enjoy one of her last weekends of freedom with a bunch of women?
Hot women…
Women who knew what they were about…
Women.
Jamie knew it wasn’t rational. Women went all the time. Usually to Vegas or some such place, where strippers abounded and a woman could either get wasted in a dive bar from hell or the most upscale lounge in the world. Etta came from a commoner’s background, but had refined tastes. She would want to go somewhere she could wear a (to her, casual) suit and drink expensive liquor. Jamie did not doubt that she would see as many naked women as Jamie saw last week – and to hold it against her made Jamie a hypocrite. Besides, didn’t she trust Etta like Etta trusted her? Jamie sure got an eyeful of good-looking babes and their bodies last week, but that didn’t mean she touched any of them. Not like Seena. Or Adele.Good God.
When Etta asked her how the party went, Jamie was candid and gave her a brief overview. She even let slip that there were a lot of hot nudes there, who were clearly hired to be sexually aggressive. Etta hadn’t gotten jealous, or at least not in front of Jamie. She did quip, however,“Of course my money went to paying for bisexual escorts. Of course it did.”
Jamie hoped Etta would be as transparent when she asked about the party later. Until then, she needed to find something to occupy herself with.
Like her cell phone flashing Monique’s number on the screen.
“Jamie, dear,” she said with that brusque business voice of hers. “Are you busy tonight?”
“Well,I…”
“Oh, good! You know, you haven’t been up to my Manoir in much too long. Why don’t I send you a car to come visit me? That way you don’t have to drive all the way up here.”
“Um…”
“It’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Pack light.” She hung up.
What the hell was going on? Jamie was always the last person let in on these things!
She threw together a few items into her large purse and checked herself in the bedroom vanity. Her hair wasn’t too bushy, even though the humidity was starting to pick up outside… thank goodness. Her sapphire blue crepe dress was a bit plain for a gathering, but had been perfectly fine for running errands. Perhaps it didn’t matter. As long as she was presentable.
The intercom from the front desk downstairs buzzed. The receptionist announced that there was a driver waiting for Jamie, and then asked if she needed assistance. Jamie told them to hold on for a few more minutes before freshening up. By the time she went downstairs with nothing but a light jacket and a purse full of hygiene products and a change of underwear, a very familiar driver and her Rolls-Royce awaited.
“Good to see you,” Helen said, removing her golden sunglasses so Jamie could see more than that sandy blond hair and beige sundress. “I’ve been sent to fetch and bring you to my wife’s place of illicit business.”
Jamie didn’t know whether to laugh or take five big steps back.What the fuuuuuck?She had never been alone with Helen before. Oh, not that she distrusted this! More likewhat the hell do we do together?Let alone in Helen’s car for the two hours!
“What’s going on?” Jamie asked, as Helen extended a hand to take her bag. “All I got was some cryptic call from Monique telling me to come meet her.”
“Honestly, I have been sworn to secrecy, and she will know if I broke my oath.” Helen dramatically rolled her eyes for comedic effect. “I know wedon’t know each other as well as we should, but I like to think this is a good chance to ‘hang out’ with one of my wife’s best friends. She certainly talks about you a lot. And, hey, I’m going to your wedding in two weeks and will always appreciate you having been in mine.”
“Okay, okay. Let me call our housekeeper to tell her not to expect me for dinner.”
“Roger that.”
Within ten more minutes, Jamie was in the front seat of the Rolls-Royce, Helen behind the wheel and driving them both far out of town and onto a highway that veered up into the nearby mountains.
The afternoon weather was pleasant enough for Helen to lower the hood and let them both enjoy the warm wind and sunshine. It beat trying to force a conversation, especially when Helen turned on the radio and motioned for Jamie to choose whatever she liked. She probably wasn’t expecting Top 40… all the station presets were classical, jazz, soft rock, and NPR. Jamie was content to let Bruno Mars serenade them up the green mountain spotted with late spring flowers and all the trappings of June.
“You know,” Helen called out over the wind at one point. “It was a little over a year ago that I formally met Monique. Now look at me. Chauffeuring her friends around.” She said it with a grin. Jamie laughed and said that Helen was a lucky woman. “You don’t have to tell me that,” she continued. “Just do me a favor and convince her to come home more often! She’s having a baby, damnit!”
The highway turned farther inland, where properties were private and highways no longer existed. They joined a winding road that went past vast lodges, resorts, and private estates that were perfect for summer getaways or the permanent residences of rich hermits. It was this kind of palatial estate that Monique chose for her luxurious business catering to the sexual deviances of the richest people in the country – and the world. Jamie had only been to Le Manoir a few times, but every time she went, shewas agog at the fairy-tale landscaping and the elegant sophistication that permeated every bush, line of trees, and even the Christmas lights hanging like canopies wherever cars drove.
It may have been late afternoon by the time they turned downVers la Paradis, which Helen made sure to tell Jamie was originally misnamed theChemin de Cieluntil she came into the picture with her fluent French, but Jamie still felt like she was entering a private world that few ever got to sample.Well, that’s the truth. Few could ever say they were good friends with the madam of one of the country’s most exclusive – and only surviving – pleasure houses.
