“Speaking of sluts…”
“At least I’ve got money and connections. What does Stripper-Name McGee bring to the table for a babe like Coleman? She must have the greatest pussy any woman has ever encountered.”
“Maybe she has deets on her. Take her to the cleaners.”
That was the moment Jamie swung open her stall and sauntered out with as much bluster as she could draw up from the pit of her stomach. It was not easy. She stared down those two socialites, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest as she faced their shock and disdain at the sametime.Fuck me. I can’t do this. She had to, though. She had put herself in this situation, and now she had to complete it.
“I’m not blackmailing her,” she said with a solid voice. Jamie elbowed one girl out of the way so she could turn on the sink and wash her hands. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread that rumor around.”
“Wow.”
“Yup. Wow.” Jamie shut off the sink and pulled out a paper towel. As she dried off her hands, she said, “Jury’s still out on my magical pussy, though. You’ll be the first to know when the test results are back.”
She tossed the towel in the trash and left, exhaling a heavy breath the moment she was back in the gallery of the restaurant. She didn’t see those girls emerge until five minutes later, and they were quick to grab their things, pay their bills, and scuttle out of there with their tails between their legs. They weren’t sorry. They weren’t even ashamed. Embarrassed, yes, but they would be back to talking shit about Jamie by the end of the day. They were only upset that they had been caught.
Jamie ate her lunch quickly, ready to head to the penthouse and try to get some chores done. Nothing fun. Nothing all that stimulating. Better than trying to force herself into this world where people thought she was a joke, though.
The last thing she saw before heading out was Kathleen looking in her direction, obscured by a pair of thick-rimmed reading glasses, but startling in how blue they were. The look was not judgmental, but it was hardly encouraging.
“Hey,” she finally said, as Jamie turned to leave the restaurant. “Don’t pay any attention to those kinds of fools. They’ll never do any work for a full day of their lives. They’re not worth the dirt on your shoe.”
Jamie swallowed. How else was she supposed to react to that, especially coming from such a hard expression? “Thanks. I can take it.”
“Sure youcan. For now.”
Jamie wasn’t sure what that meant. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know – so without any further ado, she left the restaurant, texting Etta and telling her she better damn well make up for her absence later.
Chapter 21
To take her mind off things, Jamie cooked dinner. A rare event, to be sure, since her interest in cooking was about as deep as her interest in Etta’s mycological fixations. But throwing together some easy spaghetti was not only a good plan but would make her fiancée the Italian-junkie happy too.
Sure enough, Etta came through the door at six, wearing one of many Armani suits. Had she driven herself, she probably would have taken the Maserati. She didn’t unleash her favorite language on Jamie very often, but she half-expected to hearCiaowhen Etta arrived.
“Sorry about earlier…” That’s what Etta said instead, taking off her coat and pulling a scarf off her throat. Was it that cold earlier that morning? “Wait… did you cook?”
“I did.” Jamie was bringing things to the table. A pot full of cooked noodles drowning in sauce and vegetables graced Etta’s favorite dining spot.Eat it all up. I sweated over this.“You’re going to eat it.”
Etta went straight into the kitchen. “Let me get some wine.”
“I’ll assume that’s to complement my cooking, not to get drunk enough to eat it.”
“I’ve had your cooking before. I’m sure it’s fine.”
“It’s not fancy. Some extra seasoning on what was already in the cupboards.”
“Like I said, I’m sure it’s fine.” Etta brought a bottle and two glasses to the table. “I’m okay with nothing fancy. I had assumed you would order in anyway, so I suppose this is special in its way.”
“But…”
“Stop putting yourself down.” Etta intercepted her on the way out of the kitchen. “I’m starving. Is it time to eat yet?”
“Sure…”
Jamie listened to her go on about her day while they ate, Jamie drinking a lot more wine than Etta, who started with her business dealings that morning. Things Jamie used to care about when she took notes about them. Now? She vaguely paid attention.
Then Etta got to something juicier. Apparently, a meeting that afternoon went to hell because Adele showed up late, and wouldn’t tell anyone why. Etta made Amanda reschedule the meeting for the end of the week, but not before she ripped Adele a new asshole about standing up an important investor.I wish I could see that.
“So… we’re fighting a bit right now.”
