She lay her head in Etta’s lap, one of those hands still rubbing her back while the other stroked her hair. “I just want a family… to beafamily.”
Jamie didn’t know what she meant by that. That she wanted to have children? That she wanted to get married? That she wanted to move their parents into their home and be surrounded by their constant nagging? Right now, she felt close to Etta, but she knew they could feel even closer. She could change things. Together, they could change for the better, becoming a stronger couple. It didn’t matter how they did it. Now that it was in Jamie’s heart, all she could think about was taking her relationship with Etta to the next level. Suddenly, she was no longer complacent with whatthey had.
She wanted more.
“I want the world to know that you and I are forever,” she whispered.
Etta’s arms wrapped around her, bringing her closer so she could kiss her tear-stained cheek. “Maybe one day, my love.”
“Maybe one day what?”
“Maybe one day we’ll have all that.”
She sniffed. “You’re happy that I’m not sick, of course.”
“I’m relieved, that’s all. I’m not happy that you’re upset. I don’t ever want to see you upset. I want you happy every day of your life.”
Jamie lifted her head, forcing a smile. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
They embraced until they reached Etta’s office five minutes later. Jamie saw her off with the biggest smile she could muster, but inside she felt… empty. When she rode home, alone, she cried one more time. For what her own stupid head had put her through.
And the Pandora’s Box it had opened.
Chapter 12
Jamie touched up her makeup as the Town Car eased down the driveway to Warner Estate. She had Natasha on the phone, currently on her lunch break in Etta’s office – and without Amanda in tow.
“You look great,” she reassured Jamie over video chat. “If any of those salty witches have a problem with you today, just let me know, and I’ll make them wait an extra half hour to see Ms. Coleman the next time they stop by the office. She’s busy, you know.”
“Don’t I know it.” Sighing, Jamie put her compact away and fluffed out the skirt on her purple peplum dress. It had been a week since receiving the news she wasn’t sick. I’m over it.Mostly. The more days went by, the more Jamie put thoughts of being a married mother out of her head and returned to her life. Today? She was going to Monique’s debut party as Mrs. Helen Warner. There would be a shitton of well-to-do women there. Well, the ones who didn’t work or go to school, anyway. So that left out the twin blondes of Kathleen and Eve and left the obnoxious forty-somethings who thought their shit smelled like roses and cherub breath. Jamie had to make sure she looked impeccable. At the very least, these women wouldn’t be able to say she looked like a trollop mess at Monique’s classy garden partyon an early Tuesday afternoon.
She didn’t stand a chance.
Her only friend there was Monique, who was busy throwing a party and entertaining the other dozen women there. Wives and daughters of CEOs, presidents, politicians, bankers, stockbrokers, and anyone else who could claim to have millions of dollars in a bank account somewhere. Whatever they thought of Monique and her background, or the fact that she was pregnant before her big lesbian marriage, they minded themselves when in her presence, let alone in her home. For she was a Warner now, and that family had deep roots in the community. It also helped that Monique was a natural at entertaining and had the manners of a queen. Not like Jamie, who fumbled with every word and action. Luckily, nobody wanted to pay attention to her. Her most interesting conversation came from a maid who complimented her dress.
“These place settings are absolutely delightful,” said an older woman, Francesca Blake. She was the wife of one of the wealthiest stock traders in America, let alone the region. Since she wasn’t into kink or often deigned to attend anyone’s parties, Jamie didn’t see her around much. She was a country club woman, not a BDSM dungeon honey. I’d rather hang out with those people. At least they knew how to let loose, have fun, and cut a fucking joke. “Where are they from? Bavaria?”
“Almost close,” Monique chirped. “Tuscany. I found them on my honeymoon. They were hand-painted by a man whose family has been doing it for over five hundred years. The details are impeccable.”
“Ah,” Mrs. Blake was most pleased with this answer. Or at least she was good at faking it. Jamie was still learning how to tell the difference. “I haven’t been to Italy in a good five years. Might be time to go again.”
To think, a few years ago, Jamie’s comeback would have been,“I’ve never been to Italy at all, so fuck off.”Since dating a woman who loved Italy more than any other country, however, she had been a time or two already. Ettaeven thought about buying a vacation home in Tuscany for them and their friends to use.
Even so, the tone of this woman’s voice nearly set her off. Jamie was eternally grateful that Etta didn’t come from a rich family and had made her own money. She didn’t think she could stand a whole brood of rich misfits. Her hippie parents were enough.
Halfway through the party, a latecomer arrived.
“Ms. Adele Thompson is here, madam,” said a butler. “Should I show her in?”
The quiet conversation halted. Monique sat up in her seat and renewed her air of sophistication. “Yes, please do. I’m sure nobody will mind Ms. Thompson joining us a bit late, would they?”
The other women, even Mrs. Blake, shook their heads and leaned in toward one another, hissing this and that until a feminine shadow appeared in the doorway.
“Sorry I’m so unfashionably late,” came a familiar voice. Liquid. Like the finest milk chocolate to ever grace Jamie’s tongue. She was both shocked and not surprised at all when a tall woman walked onto the patio, wearing an ivory high-waist dress and an equally impressive sunhat that shadowed the sharp angles of her otherwise feminine face. Chestnut hair was pulled back into a low twist on her head. The most dazzling thing, however, was the woman’s smile, which lit up the room with good humor that Jamie had yet to experience.
Her. It’s her.The woman she met in the elevator at Etta’s office.
