“It’s been a tiring day.”
Jamie sat up. “Whatever you say,ma’am.”
She didn’t expect Etta to take her chin between her fingers. Yet she did, forcing Jamie to look into her darkened demeanor.Oh, hi.Jamie hadn’t felt this vulnerable around Etta in a while.
“That’s exactly what you’ll be saying later.”
Apparently, their married friends weren’t the only ones enjoying a loving and kinky time that night.
Chapter 7
Over the next month, Jamie’s life returned to normal. February ended with a full spread of “The Warner Wedding” in the regional paper, complete with photos of Jamie looking like a supermodel bridesmaid one minute and an absolute lunatic catching the bouquet the next. Neither she nor Etta commented on the journalist’s quote.“Miss Joy is the serious girlfriend of hotshot businesswoman Etta Coleman. Could this be a sign of who is getting married next?”
The only parties Jamie hosted over that month included non-rich friends who loved coming over to take advantage of the huge TV and endless gaming. Her best friends Seena and Tosh were regulars on the weekends. They didn’t like it when Jamie paid for things all the time, but they never said no to her hospitality, especially if Beatrice made her famous snickerdoodles. Since those cookies were also Etta’s favorite, Beatrice always doubled the batch whenever Jamie’s friends came over.
Hell, Jamie didn’t leave the house much at all, unless she was shopping or meeting up with Etta at the penthouse in town. That happened more, as Etta spent more time working late. The woman used to be out of her office by six, depending on how many calls she had to return or how latea meeting ran. But now it was not unusual for her to stay until seven or eight. Jamie finally told her to hire a new personal assistant. Natasha had been pulling double duty and splitting the receptionist job with another person in the office. Yet she complained of being overstressed, and Jamie wouldn’t let Etta allow that much longer.
Nonetheless, she was not impressed when her girlfriend hired a twenty-something thin blonde named Amanda. She also saw the contract on Etta’s office desk one day. The same exact termsJamiewas given for the assistant part of her job when she worked for Etta.
Jamie didn’t say anything about it. She knew it was irrational. She also saw the girl’s qualifications: top of her class, the administrative assistant for another bigwig before moving on to greener pastures with great recommendations. That right there told Jamie that her girlfriend wasn’t fucking Amanda, because Etta didn’t care about qualifications when it came to hiring personal assistants to be girlfriends. She cared if they turned her on, like Jamie had.The fact I could also do my job was a bonus.Now her job was running around with Etta’s money.
Amanda helped take some of the load off Etta’s job, but not enough. She still came home worn out, irritable, andworst of all, completely disinterested in sex. Now, that wasn’t to say she was too tired to roll over twice in bed or accept some oral help from her girlfriend, but almost all the kink was gone. The spark of adventure. The“I need you now, so bend over the kitchen counter”fun and games they used to play. Jamie didn’t notice at first until she spent time alone in their bedroom one night, staring at the toys in a drawer and wondering when the last time Etta tied her up and flogged her ass.
What could she do? Etta was single-handedly running a multi-billion-dollar empire. She didn’t have the super charming people skills like Helen Warner and psychopath Jacqueline Love did. So, she was even more exhausted faking it for investors she used to barelyinteract with.
Finally, she came to the penthouse one night, slamming her briefcase on the couch and ripping off her clothes as if they strangled her. Jamie watched from a distance as she locked herself in the bathroom and later came out with water splashed on her face. She made a beeline for her wet bar and poured herself a hard drink.
“That’s it,” she mumbled. “I need to find a new business partner.”
Jamie heated dinner in the microwave. Oh, she had ordered fresh takeout earlier, but that was when she thought Etta would be home two hours ago. “Is that easy to do at all?” She didn’t doubt people would bite at the champ to work with someone as powerful as Etta, but most of those same people had prior commitments, contracts, and motives. Jacqueline had been with Etta since the beginning of Coleman Enterprises, then known as Love-Coleman. After Jacqueline’s abuses came to light, Etta was quick to cut her best friend from her life. At the time, Jamie had been relieved. She never anticipated how it would negatively affect Etta’s life, and therefore their relationship.
“It won’t be easy at all. I need to find a good businessperson I can work with who has the capital to invest in the business. If it’s not one problem, it’s another. And it’s not exactly a position I can advertise for like an IT guy or whatever. I have to subtly put the word out and make sure people understand it’s not because we’re strapped for cash and desperately need another billionaire to save us.”
“I’m sorry.” Jamie approached where she sat on the couch while the microwave turned behind her. She put her hands on Etta’s shoulders and attempted to give her a massage, but she was so stiff that it wasn’t happening. “I wish there was some way I could help.”
Etta plucked one of Jamie’s hands and kissed it. “You help by being here for me.”
It was the sweetest thing she had said in weeks. Jamie ruffled her hair and responded to the dinging microwave. “You know what I mean,” she calledover her shoulder. “Drives me nuts watching you burn yourself out and work yourself to death. That assistant of yours is supposed to be taking this workload off, isn’t she?”
“She does her job well.” Etta stood up from the couch and hauled herself back to the wet bar. “Also, shedoesmake my job easier, but only by about 10%. There’s still at least 40% to account for.”
Jamie wished she could say this was the beginning of things changing, but as another week went on, Etta ended up in the doctor’s office because of stomach pangs. It was only a mild flu, but for a woman who couldn’t stop working for more than a day, it was a nightmare. She had to run her entire business from home. Jamie filled in as both personal assistant and nurse as her girlfriend yelled at someone on the phone one minute and rolled over to groan from pain the next. Then Jamie got sick, too. Because of course she did! It wasn’t real love unless they were both breaking fevers, being mauled by their cats, and rejecting food in the same bed. Beatrice had to quarantine their bedroom until a doctor declared them no longer contagious – just miserable.
Because of this, Jamie had to reschedule more than one social outing. One of these was with Monique, whom she saw two days after feeling better.
She was visibly pregnant now, with a small, high-riding pooch protruding from her dress. Her main complaint was the lack of sugar in her iced tea because her ob-gyn was worried about gestational diabetes. The thing that shocked Jamie the most, however, was that Monique was already in her fifth month of pregnancy.
“I didn’t know until the third month,” she said. “That may sound weird, but I was still spotting every month and assumed it was my period. I had no other symptoms, and the first couple of pregnancy tests I took after my first attempt gave me false negatives. Until it was finally positive.” She sighed, staring longingly at her tea. Someone just wanted some freakin’ sugar. “By that point, it was a month until the wedding. Of course, I thought about telling Helen, but I ended up telling no one. I was too freaked out with decision fatigue. Obviously, Helen knew we were trying ahead of the wedding, but our next attempt wasn’t supposed to be until after the honeymoon. So… she must have assumed it didn’t take the first time. The doctor told us it probably wouldn’t, but it would reveal valuable information on what to adjust going forward.”
“Understandable.” Jamie had no idea what she would have done in Monique’s situation.Tell everyone, probably. She couldn’t keep her secrets to save her life.
“Still, I suppose this gets things out of the way. We don’t have to have endless talks about when trying to have a baby kills the romance. Because knowing me, I would keep going until I was forty.” Monique scoffed. “That’s coming up way too soon as it is.”
Jamie refrained from rolling her eyes. Monique was in her early thirties. A good few years older than Jamie, but notold. “I’m glad everything is going well.” The baby, the marriage, the transition from a legally single woman with no kids to both wife and mother. Monique’s biggest source of stress now – outside of the baby, of course – was her ever-growing business and a soiree she was throwing as her debut as Mrs. Warner, a title she decided to embrace.
“Monique Grant was a woman who accomplished many things,” Monique explained over their lunch. “But she was also a very hurt woman who had been through way too much. I’m hoping Monique Warner can have much-needed stability. God knows I need it if I’m having a baby already.”
“I hope she can too.”
