Can't Get Enough

by Connie Briscoe

  She wanted to talk to Patrick privately, away from Pearl’s prying ears. “Patrick, darling, I really need to speak with you about all this money I just won. Can you step away for a minute, please?”

  Patrick frowned. “Fine, but can’t you speak to Pearl first? There’s no need to be rude.”

  Pearl shook her head and touched Patrick on the arm. “It’s all right. I would expect nothing less from her.”

  Jolene inhaled deeply. “At least I don’t look like a walking mannequin for a damn thrift shop.” Fat-ass bitch, she thought.

  “That was mean,” Patrick said, shaking his head sadly.

  “I’m just being . . .” Jolene paused as a hush came over the crowd, and she glanced in the direction everyone was looking.

  The room grew silent as all eyes fastened on the top of the grand staircase opposite the main entrance. The guests awaited eagerly for the next scene to unfold in the months-long drama of the mansion on the hillside.

  Barbara stretched her neck upward to see above the crowd and noticed a young woman walking down the second-story hallway, her hand gliding gracefully along the wrought-iron railing. The woman paused at the top of the stairway and smiled down at the guests.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” boomed the voice of yet another male servant at the foot of the stairs, “may I present Baroness Veronique Odette Valentine de Marjolais.”

  The woman smiled and descended the stairs slowly in a shimmering strapless red gown that hugged her hourglass figure. She paused when she was about halfway down and stretched out her arms. That’s when Barbara noticed that she wasn’t as young as she had first appeared. In fact, Barbara thought the woman was probably closer to her age. But she had the body of a thirty-year-old and eyes that sparkled so brightly they could be seen clearly even from a great distance. She reminded Barbara of a youthful Tina Turner.

  A black baroness, Barbara thought with excitement. Not quite a countess but still very impressive. She glanced up at Bradford and nearly gasped at the startled expression on his face. Barbara looked back toward the baroness. Yes, she was special. Yes, the house was stunning. But why on earth did Bradford look so upset?

  “Good evening, everyone,” said Veronique. “And welcome to my home. As your newest neighbor, I’m thrilled to be here in Silver Lake and very anxious to meet you all. Please enjoy yourselves this evening, and let one of my gentlemen know if you need anything at all.”

  How about a check for a cool $5 million, Jolene thought, as she watched the baroness elegantly make her way down the rest of the stairs. That would go nicely with the five that she had just won. Hot damn! Royalty living across the street from her.

  Jolene’s eyes stayed glued to the baroness as she made her way around the room and introduced herself. She had a smooth brown complexion that had the look of expensive spa treatments, and big round eyes. As beautiful as the baroness was, Jolene would have bet her Blackglama mink that the woman was at least forty, and probably closer to fifty since these rich women always managed to look younger than their actual years. And they should, given that they could afford to spend a fortune keeping up their appearance.

  Jolene walked away from Patrick and Pearl and maneuvered through the crowd to get closer to Veronique. An introduction to the baroness was far more important than fussing with her ex- and his whore.

  As Veronique glided about the ballroom greeting her guests and Jolene moved in that direction, Pearl said a silent “Amen.” Thank God Jolene was gone, she thought. Now she could focus on the baroness. The first thing she noticed was how rich her honey blond hair color looked. No doubt it was bleached, but the effect with her coppery brown complexion was stunning.

  The baroness approached Bradford and Barbara and extended a hand crowned with the biggest emerald-cut diamond ring Barbara had ever seen. Barbara waited for Bradford to offer his hand first, as she always did when they met new people as a couple. But Bradford still had a strange expression on his face, and it seemed that he was going to take an eternity to introduce himself, so Barbara reached out to the baroness.

  “Hello. I’m Barbara Bentley,” she said as they shook hands. “And this is my husband, Bradford. We’re pleased to meet you.”

  The baroness smiled broadly, exposing a perfect set of pearly white teeth. “Ah, so it is you, Bradford. I thought so. You’ve aged some, but very gracefully I should add.” She turned to Barbara. “And it’s lovely to finally meet your wife.”

  Barbara’s jaw nearly dropped to her hemline. She stared at Bradford. He already knew the baroness? How could that be? Never once had he mentioned knowing a baroness, and Barbara thought that would be something a spouse would share at some point during a thirty-year marriage. She wanted to kick the man.

  Bradford kissed Veronique on her cheek with studied coolness. Apparently, he had regained his composure, Barbara thought as she waited for him to say something.

  “It’s good to see you again, Veronique.” He glanced at Barbara. “And just so you know, dear, Veronique wasn’t a baroness when I knew her several years ago.”

  Then what was she, dear, Barbara was tempted to ask. One of your mistresses? She knew her husband’s type, and the baroness more than fit the bill. Barbara bit her tongue.

  “I’ve done well since we last crossed paths, Bradford,” Veronique said with a sly smile.

  “So I see,” Bradford said. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

  “Of course, darling. We’ll talk soon.”

  Bradford reached into his inside breast pocket, pulled out one of his business cards, and gave it to Veronique. Barbara stiffened as the baroness snapped a finger and handed the card to one of her servants when he magically appeared at her side. It was looking more and more like there was some shady history between these two. And knowing Bradford, it probably included sex. Dammit. She was having so much fun tonight. Why did Bradford have to go and ruin it for her?

  “Thank you, Bradford. And it was lovely to meet you, Barbara.” Veronique blew a kiss in their direction and slid on to the next couple.

  Barbara glared at Bradford. “So, do you mind telling me what that was all about? How do you know the baroness?”

  Bradford shrugged nonchalantly. “There’s not much to tell. I did some business with her husband down in Atlanta about five years ago. She was simply Veronica Butler back then, married to a man named Guy Butler. I did hear that they divorced. I think Odette is her maiden name.”

  Barbara relaxed a bit, but not much. She knew Bradford too well to relax when he had any kind of connection to a beautiful, sophisticated woman.

  BARONESS VERONIQUE ODETTE Valentine de Marjolais and Jolene Brown quickly became the best of friends and allies. Together, they set out to destroy one snobby family after the other in Silver Lake, starting with the Bentleys. They plotted to ruin Bradford’s business, then laughed as Barbara and Bradford were forced to sell their mansion and move to the slums in inner P.G. County.

  Then one day, while sipping champagne in Veronique’s salon, the baroness told Jolene that she’d heard a rumor that Barbara had had her Louis Vuitton bag snatched as she walked to her car in the hood. Jolene threw her head back and laughed so hard she nearly spilled her drink all over her St. John suit.

  Jolene jumped and opened her eyes. She blinked. Fuck! She’d woken up in the middle of the best part of her dream about Barbara and Bradford Bentley. What a pity. She sighed, tossed the covers back, and threw her feet over the edge of the bed.

  Then she thought about the party at the baroness’s house the night before and smiled as she stretched. She thought about the $5 million she’d won just a few days earlier and her smile grew bigger. What a fabulous week. First she’d won the money. Then she’d shopped all day with no thought to how much she was spending. Finally, she had attended the most glamorous party ever. She had even managed to corner the baroness and talk to her privately for at least fifteen minutes toward the end of the night. That was longer than Veronique seemed to linger with any of her other guest
s, including the Bentleys.

  Jolene found Veronique’s account of how she had met and married European royalty fascinating. The baroness said that she was originally from Atlanta, Georgia, where her first husband had been a successful software developer. They had lived comfortably in a neighborhood similar to Silver Lake until their marriage collapsed.

  After the divorce was final, Veronique decided to take an extended vacation to Europe to get away from it all. It was while relaxing in the south of France that she had met Baron Pierre Valentine de Marjolais. He was from a tiny European municipality with a long complex name and he was also on vacation. They fell in love and married within “six short, sweet weeks,” according to the baroness. But recently Veronique had found herself missing America and she had convinced Pierre to build her a small “bungalow” in the States.

  Bungalow? Yeah, right, Jolene thought as she poured her first cup of coffee. She had oohed and aahed in all the right places while the baroness regaled her with some of the most fascinating tales Jolene had ever heard. For a while, as she listened to Veronique, she thought seriously of ditching Silver Lake and heading for Europe to find her own Prince Charming. But she could never do that as long as Juliette was in school.

  At least she and the baroness had hit it off. Jolene thought they had a lot in common. They both had style and lots of flair, unlike the dowdy matrons of Silver Lake such as Barbara Bentley. And she and the baroness both had millions.

  Jolene was confident that with just a little work she could make friends with the baroness. And if she was good at anything besides sex, it was “working it.” She would plan a small gathering of her friends who lived outside Silver Lake and invite her new neighbor. Maybe she would eventually get an invitation from Veronique to visit her estate in Europe. Now that would be something.

  She took her coffee cup to the family room and sat at the computer. Thank God she no longer had to go into that crappy office in town, she thought, as she searched the drawers for her good stationery. Fifteen minutes after winning the lottery she had called her boss and quit, refusing to even give the customary two-week notice. Why should she? She didn’t need them any longer and never would again.

  Jolene picked up her new sapphire blue Waterman fountain pen, with its 18-karat gold nib and 23-karat gold-plated trim. Now, should the first invitation be for afternoon tea? Jolene shook her head. No, that was too corny. Besides, the baroness was not British royalty.

  She would throw a small luncheon on Sunday two weeks from today and hire a caterer to fix an extravagant meal. She would invite Veronique and a few girlfriends, and she’d have the invitations hand-delivered just like Veronique had. Then she would make sure the word got around to Barbara and all the others in Silver Lake who had snubbed her over the past year that the baroness was coming to her house for lunch. And they weren’t.

  PEARL LOOKED UP from her client’s head and noticed a Rolls-Royce parking in front of her hair salon. She frowned. She had only one client who owned a Rolls-Royce, and she was not expected today. Pearl stared as the driver got out of the Rolls and walked around to the rear passenger door. None of her clients had chauffeurs. How odd, Pearl thought.

  Then she gasped aloud as Baroness Veronique Valentine alighted from the car.

  “Ooh,” gushed Mary from beneath the blow dryer in Pearl’s hand. “Isn’t that the baroness who just moved to Silver Lake?” Mary reached for the eyeglasses dangling from the ends of the strap around her neck and slipped them on. “Yep, that’s her.”

  Pearl shut off the dryer and watched as the baroness strolled toward the door of the salon. “So it is,” she said, trying to sound calm as she wiped her hands on her white smock. Then she realized that her hands were already dry. Nerves, she thought wryly, and shook her head. Well, it wasn’t every day that royalty visited her salon.

  She supposed everyone in Silver Lake knew about the baroness living in their midst. Then she remembered that Mary didn’t live in Silver Lake or Prince George’s County for that matter. She lived in the next county over. News sure traveled fast.

  The chauffeur opened the door to the salon and the baroness stepped in, all smiles. She was wearing a snugly fitting crepe silk dress and matching jacket in a beautiful aquamarine that complemented her coppery complexion and womanly figure. Pearl rushed up and extended her hand. This was so exciting. She had to remind herself not to do something stupid, like curtsy.

  “Good afternoon, Baroness, and welcome to my salon.”

  “Thank you. You must be Pearl.”

  Pearl blinked and nodded excitedly. “Yes I am.”

  “I heard that you’re the best around when it comes to hair color.”

  Pearl felt her cheeks go hot. She waved an arm, trying to appear nonchalant. “Oh, shoot. I don’t know about that. But thanks anyway. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m in desperate need of a touch-up around my roots and a trim. Do you think you can match the color?”

  Pearl walked around Veronique slowly. She might gush like a schoolgirl about royalty entering her salon, but when it came to hair she was all business. “It’s a beautiful color. Sort of an almond or honey blond, isn’t it?”

  The baroness smiled. “Oui. C’est miel blond.”

  Pearl nodded even though she barely understood what the baroness had just said. “I should be able to come very close.”

  The baroness smiled warmly. “Wonderful. When can you get to it?”

  “You’re in luck. I had a cancellation today. As soon as I’m done with Mary here I can get to yours. Do you mind waiting about fifteen minutes? There’s a nice coffee shop next door and . . .”

  “That’s fine. And I’ll wait right here. It will give us a chance to talk.” She settled herself into one of Pearl’s waiting chairs, crossed her legs, and picked up a copy of Essence magazine as Pearl went back to Mary.

  Pearl smiled as she picked up the hair dryer. The baroness might be royalty now, but Pearl had heard that she was from Atlanta, Georgia, and she was starting to think that despite all the elegance and flair, deep down inside the baroness was still just a good old southern sister at heart.

  “By the way,” Pearl said. “This is Mary Rivers. And Mary this is, um . . .” Pearl hesitated. “I’m not exactly sure what I should call you, Baroness.”

  “Oh, just call me Veronique.”

  “Pearl’s the best,” said Mary. “And I’m so pleased to meet you.”

  Veronique nodded. “Were you at my party last week, Mary? Forgive me if you were, but I invited most of Silver Lake and I didn’t get around to meeting everyone there.”

  Mary shook her head. “I don’t live in Silver Lake,” she said. “But I heard about it.”

  “Mary lives in Montgomery County,” Pearl explained. “That’s right next door to Prince George’s.”

  “So your services are popular far and wide, Pearl. Next time I’ll have to extend an invitation to those in Montgomery County. It feels so good to be back in the States after several years living abroad.”

  “Do you like living in Europe?” Mary asked.

  Veronique nodded. “I love it. But I do miss some things about living here. Like southern cooking. I love to cook but rarely get a chance to these days. Not that I need to with all the help I have.”

  “I was just about to say,” Mary said, “why on earth would you be cooking with all the servants you probably have?”

  “Pierre and I have a very busy social life, and you’re right. It’s hard to find the time when I don’t have to do it.”

  Pearl smiled. “I love to cook, too.”

  “I miss it so much at times,” Veronique said. “I make a mean sweet potato pie. My husband loves my pies, but I haven’t made one for him in years.”

  Pearl laughed. “Cakes are my specialty. I used to have a catering service before I opened this salon.”

  “Pearl makes the best-tasting rum cake this side of the Mississippi River,” Mary said.

  “You seem to be very enterprising, Pearl
,” Veronique said. “I admire that. I’m glad the Silver Lake Neighborhood Association called and suggested that I add you to my invitation list for the party.”

  “That was some party,” Pearl said, as she picked up a bottle of her homemade hair oil and applied a generous portion to Mary’s newly curled and styled locks.

  “I met so many wonderful people there,” Veronique said.

  “Did you get a chance to talk to the Bentleys?” Pearl asked. “Barbara is very well known in Silver Lake. She’s the one who called the association for me.”

  Veronique nodded. “Bradford and I go way back to my days in Atlanta. He also knew my ex-husband.”

  “Oh?” Mary said. “They were in business together or friends?”

  “Business.”

  Pearl was surprised at this news. Barbara had never mentioned anything about this to her. Maybe it was news to Barbara, too. Barbara was a very private person and didn’t talk much about personal matters. But everyone in Silver Lake knew that Bradford had a roving eye and that Barbara had an off-and-on-again drinking problem because of it. She hoped that the relationship between Bradford and Veronique had been all business. The last thing Barbara needed in her life was more bimbo drama.

  “What kind of business was that?” Mary asked.

  “Software,” Veronique said.

  “Bradford Bentley is still in software as far as I know,” Mary said. “Does he have an office down in Atlanta?”

  Pearl tugged Mary’s hair gently as she ran the oil through it. The woman was asking too darn many questions. Couldn’t she tell that the baroness seemed a little uneasy? Maybe she didn’t want to talk about her ex, and Pearl didn’t like it when her clients felt uncomfortable, especially not this client.