Page 170 of The Wedding

Jamie glanced at Helen, but she was completely unperturbed by this casual mention of her wife’s sexual history.

“Adele and I are co-hosting. Not including my girls, who will be top performers tonight.”

“All right…” Jamie could imagine it now. Five trained professionals all vying for Etta’s attention. Tearing off their clothes. Crawling toward her, begging for her to dominate them, because that’s what went on in a place like this. Well, they were trained Dommes too, but Jamie doubted they would be anything but submissive for Etta’s bachelorette party.I can handle that.As long as she doesn’t…“Why are you telling me this? Do you want me to have nightmares?”

“Au contraire.” Monique motioned to the bag in Jamie’s hands. “What Adele doesn’t know is that I’ve upped the ante at this party. We both know how difficult it is for Etta to let loose, and that’s exactly what she should be doing at her party. I’m sure she knows that she’s going to be inundated with tits and cunts tonight.”Whoa, I’ve never heard her say that word before.“She’s in her limo right now, bracing herself and building up a million walls so she doesn’t feel like she’s cheated on you by seeing another woman’s nipples. She’s going to be thinking of you all night.”

“Which isn’t a bad thing,” Helen pointed out. “I thought of you all night during my party in Amsterdam.”

Monique sighed. “Before or after you got the contact high of your life, Helen?”

“Who said anything about contact? Darling, it was Amsterdam. I don’t know what was in that fudge.”

“I’m sure.” Monique turned back to Jamie. “But Etta isn’t my wife here. If I know her as well as you do, then she’s going to be checked out of her own bachelorette party, because heaven forbid she enjoy herself without you for once. That’s why you’re here. If I’m going to ensure she has fun at my damn place of business, then I need to bringyou here.”

“I see.”

“Do you? Or should I spell it out some more for you?”

Jamie gulped. “I’m going to be there, too?”

“I’ll let you watch the party, but nobody but Helen and I will know you’re there.”

“How?”

Monique went to a closet door. Or Jamie assumed it was a closet door until Monique revealed a passageway leading to the main house. “This used to be a servants’ highway. We still use it sometimes, but only during parties like Etta’s, if you catch my drift.”

Jamie could hardly believe it. “I’ll be spying on her?”

“Don’t think you’ll be passive.” Monique kept pointing to the bag. “Etta is going to get laid at her bachelorette party, so help me God.” She accepted a glass of ice water from her wife, the only one who could anticipate her every need. “Tonight, your name is Cindy, my newest girl.”

Jamie dropped the bag.

Chapter 55

In the strangest twist of events, Jamie found herself at her fiancée’s bachelorette party. Not only that, but it was located at her ex-girlfriend’s place of business, which happened to be one of the barely legal pleasure houses in the area.

That sounded like the basis of a memoir.

The lounge she peered into was already half full of guests, although Etta had yet to arrive. Helen was there, the only person besides Monique who knew Jamie stood behind a secret panel. Good for Jamie that the servants’ passageway was both air-conditioned and sparsely furnished with leather seating, because she was dressed in a clingy black corset, black pantyhose, and heels, and a tight-fitting dinner jacket that accentuated her figure more than covered it.

For every two guests in the lounge, a woman was catering to their relaxation. Which meant three girls to six guests, some of whom Jamie had never seen before. She did recognize Kennedy Anderssen and Ira Mathison, who were discussing business, of all damn things. Granted, Kennedy’s mistress, Grace, kept refilling their drinks and massaging her shoulders, but Jamie couldn’t believe they were at a party talking about real estate in Arizona.

Helen said something to June, the second-in-command at the Manoir and the #1 income earner, from what Jamie understood. This was the same woman who had won the bet that Monique was pregnant at the wedding, a strawberry blond who was good at playing innocent before turning around with a cackle in her throat.Not the kind of woman I want to be in the way of.Tonight, she wore a black cocktail dress that made her tits and ass look bigger than they probably were. Helen did not seem to notice, but shedidpull June aside more than once to remind her that she was “supposed to be pure during her bidding war,” whatever that meant. June kept mumbling at Helen to back off and that she was “nothing but a snitch for her wife.” Helen didn’t deny it. Their sarcastic banter lasted most of the night until Helen retired.

The woman of the hour didn’t arrive until seven-thirty, and it was to great fanfare in the main hall. Jamie hustled down the passageway to get a glimpse of the opening foyer, where her fiancée emerged in a travel coat and gloves, citing that the air conditioning was broken in the limo and it felt like she was cruising through the Arctic on her way up the mountain.

Adele was with her. She took Etta’s coat and tossed it to a maid before racing ahead to the lounge, where more than one person mistook her for one of Monique’s girls – and was subsequently disappointed to learn the truth.

“Good to see you,” Monique greeted, taking Etta’s hand and kissing her on the cheek. “I hope you’re prepared to have a good time tonight. I’ve pulled out all the stops for your last weekend as a single lady.”

“I’m sure you have.” Etta removed her gloves and handed them to the same maid who ended up with her coat. “Adele told me you even got out the Balvenie for me.”

“Of course I did?”

Etta followed her down the foyer. “I heard that costs about thirty grand these days.”

“What’s it to me?”