In the many months she had lived with Etta, Jamie had seen her life transform in wild and wondrous ways. On one hand, she had one of the hottest and richest women around as her devoted girlfriend. Sure, she was a workaholic who could get fairly scary when ripping someone a new asshole on the phone, but she was always tender to her and their friends – and not to mention what she was like in the bedroom when she finallylet herself relax. They went on trips all around the world, mostly for business, but they always took an extra day or two to enjoy the sights. Jamie’s student loan debt was paid off and she never needed a job. She could eat anywhere. Shop anywhere. She had a driver on call if she decided to pick up a friend and go to the movies, her treat.
On the other hand, trying to fit into the world of the wealthy had been… trying, at best.
Not only had Monique chosen Jamie to host the bridal shower, but Jamie also knew this was her chance to make nice with some of the well-to-do women both in the hills and the city. Most of the ones there either knew Monique well enough to make her laugh or were so influential in their spheres that they couldnotbe uninvited. Having women of that station all around her made Jamie more than a little nervous. Would they think her food and drink offerings were good enough? Would they snicker at her dress and the way she walked? Usually, Jamie didn’t care, but she and Monique were the center of attention today.
At least she had Natasha, who was there because she had known Monique for a few years… and because Jamie needed somebody who was on her wavelength – herpoorpeoplewavelength.
That worked until the final two guests arrived, so fashionably late that half the cucumber sandwiches were already gone and one of the women broke into the bottle of champagne because she, “Desperately needed some juice, you know.”
“I can’t believe they held up traffic for a whole half hour!” A voice loudly proclaimed in the main hall. Jamie got up before Harris announced the final two guests. “I was ready to run that fucker over!”
Three of the more conservative women at the shower exchanged cursory glances. Not only was such language crass, but they probably didn’t like who the voice belonged to.
“I’m glad you could make it anyway,” Jamie greeted outside the salondoor. “We’ve barely started.”
“Uh-huh. Nice to see you, too.” Eve Warner, a woman of tall means and taller stature, walked into the salon with her best friend in tow. “I need a drink. You have drinks, right?”
“Don’t drink too much. You’re driving,” said Kathleen Allen, another blonde who walked as if she was sophistication incarnate. Jamie gulped. These two were notorious gal-pals who could tear up clubs, bars, and garden parties alike. Let alone the bridal shower of Eve Warner’s future sister-in-law, whom she kissed on the cheek and called “sister” before pouring herself a glass of champagne and downing it in one go. Half the women in there were amused while the others shifted in their seats. “And give me some.”
Once everyone was settled, gabbing began, which meant Jamie could sit for a few minutes and breathe. Until Natasha leaned in and hissed in her ear, however.
“You didn’t tell meshewas coming.”
Jamie maintained her fake hostess countenance. “You should have figured it out… she’s Monique’s sister-in-law… well, will be once the papers are signed.”
“I forgot, okay? Oh my God, this is so embarrassing…”
“I thought you two were cool, after…”
Natasha paled. “You mean after I slept with her?” she mouthed.
“Well, yeah.”
That got Jamie a smack on the arm. “That made it even worse!”
Jamie didn’t have time to deal with drama. Not at her party, in her house… in front of all these influential women…Please spare me!Jamie had no idea how irate some of the women here were. Did they hate Eve? If they did, was it because of what she was, orwhoshe was? She certainly stood out, with her pantsuit and bright, spiky hair that was only matched by the jewelry around her wrists and neck. Her chain belt also jangled against the woodof the bench she sat upon. Most of the women ignored her, but two of the older ones turned away in huffs.
Then there was Natasha, who blended in with her soft femininity. Both she and Eve went way back… not just the endless flirting on Eve’s part, but Jamie had the distinct pleasure of walking in on the two of themin flagrantethat past Christmas.
I thought they would start going out after that, but nothing happened.
Jamie looked around the salon and realized she had a “situation” on her hands. “So, uh,” she said loudly, standing up. “Shall we formally begin?”
She had never hosted a bridal shower before. She had, however, done mountains of research on the subject. What Jamie quickly discovered was that the kinds of bridal showers that happened between different classes of people were… wide. When Jamie thought of a shower, she thought of sex jokes, getting trashed on cheap wine, and opening gifts that were basically towels, Fiestaware, and perhaps the occasional crystal or silver set, if enough people chipped in to get it. With more sex jokes sprinkled on top.
Upper-class bridal showers, though, were a different monster. There was tea. There were sandwiches. Then there was the sparkling cider and champagne for those who had to feel fancy at one in the afternoon.
Jamie did her best to be the proper, diligent hostess. She went around offering drinks to everyone, even though Beatrice was there to help.My mother would insist I do it myself because it shows how much I care.This meant carrying a tray of two different teas and bottles of non-alcoholic cider and champagne. When she got to Monique, there was hardly any champagne left. I should have started with her!Luckily, nobody mentioned Jamie’s gaffe.
“I think there’s one glass left in there,” she said.
“Oh, I’ll take the cider, thank you.” Monique helped herself before Jamie had the chance. “No champagne for me today.”
“Oh?” Monique often drank light alcohol whenever Jamie saw her.Wine. Champagne. Easy cocktails. She wasn’t an alcoholic by any means, but she could hold her own against these other women who downed their cosmos and mimosas and Long Island iced teas like nothing.
The most difficult aspect of the party was directing the conversation. Everyone wanted to talk about anything but Monique’s wedding to one of the most refined and sought-after bachelorettes in the area. As far as Jamie knew, the wedding of Monique Grant and Helen Warner was the social event of the season, whether someone was invited or not. Everyone was talking about it wherever Jamie went. The papers were constantly speculating and gearing up for a photo festival once the wedding occurred. Monique and Helen were popular with the general public because of how “beautiful” they were together and because they exuded an older charm and sophistication that many people moaned were gone from the modern age. They made folks think of old Hollywood or Edwardian royalty.
Rich people liked them because they were inoffensive in public or offensive as hell with their unrepentantly kinky lifestyle in private. Rich men loved Monique because of the Manoir. Rich women loved Helen because she reminded them of femme Prince Charming. She wasn’t Jamie’s type, but she could not deny that she was the perfect match for Monique, who had been through hell and back with her ex – the same woman who was Etta’s defunct business partner.
