Normally, she wouldn’t pay them any mind. Especially on a day like today, when she should be full of fervor. Yet the incident in the restaurant had made Jamie more masochistic than usual, and her ear happened to catch a downwind smoky conversation from hell.
“Can you believe that?” asked a strawberry blond who puffed as if it were going out of style. “That woman and everything she stands for is such an embarrassment. You would think she was following some script given to her the moment she started dating Etta.”
“You’re a bitter bitch ‘cause she turned you down at that function two years ago. Ever since, you’ve done nothing but complain!” said her friend, a bottled redhead.
The blond socialite waved smoke away from her face. “Can you blame me? She’s so hot, she makes any girl’s panties catch fire. I also hear she’s good in bed. So sue me.”
“That’s all you care about… besides the money.” The redhead chuckled. “I’m sure your fiancé would be happy to know that you fantasize about Etta Coleman fucking your twat.”
“Shut up!” If blushing could be audible, then Jamie would hear it now. “My fiancé knows enough about that. You know that blasphemous article that came out months ago?”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“My fiancé is the #1 advisory editor at that paper, you know… not that neither Coleman nor Thompson will be going to them for announcements anymore…”
“No… you’re not saying…”
The blonde grinned, stomping out her cigarette on the sidewalk. “A little birdie may have told the advisory assistant that their info was all wrong. It wasn’t just a business merger announcement with a side of engagement… it was the same thing. Jamie Slut Joy who?”
Jamie sank against her car.
“You bitch!” the redhead laughed. “Did you seriously tell your fiancé that Coleman was actually marrying Thompson and not that whore of hers? What did you think that was going to accomplish? They don’t even know who you are.”
“Never let it be said I’m not a petty ho.” They both cackled now, starting their second round of cigarettes. “Coleman thinks she can turn downmypussy? Well, Thompson doesn’t get to take my invitations to the garden parties and soirees. I was on the list to go to Monique Warner’s garden party when Ms. Adele Thompson showed up in town, and I’m suddenly off the list. Doesn’t that slut know that girls like us make our living from attending parties? It’s our bread and butter! So, they want to fuck with my living? I’ll fuck with theirs. If I can at all get that tart Jamie out of the picture, all the better.”
“Why do you hate her so much?”
“Why do any of us hate that slut? She doesn’t know anything, and it's so embarrassing. You saw that disgusting display in there. Is that what our functions, our dining experiences are going to be from now on? I don’t fucking think so. Look, I know I wasn’t going to get rid of her that easily, and they’re getting married tomorrow… but what if I told you that I know where Coleman will be a month from now?
“Let me guess. The Annual Admiral’s Conference in DC. Just like you.”
“Fuck yes. It’s also my personal mission to get in her pants, even if it means loading her up with so much alcohol she has a raging hangover for a whole week straight. She’ll be married a month by then. My mother says that’s when people start cheating. That soon!”
“Well, fuck!That explains every other marriage I’ve seen deteriorate around me. Hey, what’s the betting pool on the Warners’ marriage?”
“Everyone’s giving it over a year because of that baby thing, but you bet that once she’s done being enamored with motherhood, Helen will look for better models. Like us.”
“Girl…”
Jamie could barely stand to listen to any more. I don’t even know these women, other than slightly recognizing them from the papers…Yet they were conspiring against her? Because she was with Etta? Would they hate her this much if she had been born like them? Is this what Carolyn had been talking about when she told Jamie that rich women felt like she had stolen something from them by marrying an eligible partner?
“Besides, my father is over Thompson-Coleman. He’s pulling out his investments… though he’s being nice and waiting until Etta gets back from the honeymoon to drop that bomb.”
“Why is your dad doing that?”
“He says he has to protect his image. Between the rumors that Jamie Joy used to be a prostitute and Adele Thompson being seen at that gay bar grabbing ass and crying into drinks… literally the only reason she hasn’t hit the tabloids yet is because she has the editors charmed. They only say nice things about her. Mark my words, though, it will be made public if she fucks up enough or pisses off the wrong one. I hear Daniel McKay ofThe Social Sunfancies her and is thinking about asking her out… if that dyke says no, there will be hell to pay. He’s a vengeful douche. You know, he’s why George Little was finally caught in his sex scandal… everyone knew, but McKay was the first to have the guys…”
Jamie stopped listening, so ill that she had to open her car door and sit in the driver’s seat.
I am a liability.She had always known that. When she looked at and listened to what others thought of her, it became so clear that not even herlove for Etta could keep her blinded.If I marry Etta, I’ll cost her business.Maybe Etta didn’t care, but Jamie did.
These were thoughts that always plagued the back of her mind. Back from before she became engaged. Before the world knew she would soon be Mrs. Coleman, the woman they were expected to respect, and not just because she was Etta’s current fancy, she would eventually move on from.People cheered for us to break up.Whether because they were bored or because they wanted her for themselves…
I don’t belong here. She looked at the fancy French restaurant, which everyone had heard of, but only a special few could ever afford. She looked at how nicely dressed everyone was. Designers that most people only dreamed of casually wearing… and designers so exclusive that nobody with an income below a million a year had even heard of them. The cars rolling by… Aston Martins, Rolls-Royces, Ferraris, BMWs, Etta’s own Lamborghini… shit, there were some cars Jamie still didn’t know the names of, but she damn well knew they were astronomically expensive and, therefore, she had no business touching them. Look at the car she was in!This is my car.Etta could have bought me any car in the world, and I asked for the only car I knew the name of.It had been within Jamie’s forecasted means growing up. It was attainable. It was a sweet sports car for the middle class… where she belonged.
Her clothes, as nice as they looked on her, were sometimes uncomfortable, and she would kill to go to a function wearing a nice cotton dress she bought at TJ Maxx or Target. She would never dare! That was social suicide, and if she were going to be Mrs. Coleman, she could never be caught in anything less than Ralph Lauren again… and Mr. Lauren would be for hanging out at home or parties she didn’t have to impress anyone at.
How often did she see her friends? Not very often, and not for a lack of time. They were in different worlds now, and she didn’t exactly have many friends in these upper echelons. Monique couldn’t babysit herevery time she felt lonely for female company. Mrs. Warner had her own busy life she navigated.
