by Cynthia Dane
Once everyone was settled, gabbing began, which meant Jasmine could sit for a few minutes and breathe. Until Nadia leaned in and hissed in her ear, however.
“You didn’t tell me she was coming.”
Jasmine maintained her fake hostess countenance. Pleasant, but not creepily happy. “You should have figured it out… she’s Monica’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…”
Nadia paled. “You mean after I slept with her?” she mouthed.
“Well, yeah.”
That got Jasmine a smack on the arm. “That made it even worse!”
Jasmine didn’t have time to deal with drama of the Sapphic variety. Not at her party, in her house… in front of all these influential women… Please spare me! Jasmine had no idea how homophobic some of the women here were. Did they hate Eva? If they did, was it because of what she was, or who she 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 wood of the bench she sat upon. Most of the women ignored her, but two of the older ones turned away in huffs.
Then there was Nadia, who was also gay but blended in with her soft femininity. Both she and Eva went way back… not just the endless flirting on Eva’s part, but Jasmine had the distinct pleasure of walking in on the two of them in flagrante that past Christmas. The images would never leave her head.
I thought they would start going out after that, but nothing happened.
Jasmine looked around the salon and realized she had a “situation” on her hands.
“So, uh,” she said loudly, standing up and trying not to fall under the pressure of getting everyone’s attention. “Shall we formally begin?”
She had never hosted a bridal shower before. She had, however, done mountains of research on the subject. What Jasmine quickly discovered was that the kinds of bridal showers that happened between different classes of people were… wide. When Jasmine thought of a bridal shower, she thought of dick jokes, getting trashed on cheap wine, and opening gifts that were basically towels, Corningware, and perhaps the occasional crystal or silver set, if enough people chipped in to get it. With more dick 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.
Jasmine did her best to be the proper, diligent hostess. She went around offering drinks to everyone, even though Belinda 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 the bottles of cider and champagne. When she got to Monica, there was hardly any champagne left. I should have started with her! Luckily, nobody mentioned Jasmine’s gaffe.
“I think there’s one glass left in there,” she said.
“Oh, I’ll take the cider, thank you.” Monica helped herself before Jasmine even had the chance. “No champagne for me today.”
“Oh?” Monica was always drinking light alcohol whenever Jasmine saw her. Wine. Champagne. Easy cocktails. She wasn’t a drunk 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. “Okay.”
The hardest part about the party was directing the conversation. Everyone wanted to talk about anything but Monica’s wedding to one of the most refined and sought after bachelors in the area. As far as Jasmine knew, the wedding of Monica Graham and Henry Warren was the social event of the season, whether someone was invited or not. Everyone was talking about it wherever Jasmine went in the upper echelons. The papers were constantly speculating and gearing up for a photo festival once the wedding actually occurred. Monica and Henry 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 people think of old Hollywood or even Victorian elite.
Rich people liked them either because they were inoffensive in public or offensive as hell with their unrepentantly kinky lifestyle in private. Rich men loved Monica because of the Château she ran. Rich women loved Henry because he reminded them of Prince Charming. He wasn’t Jasmine’s type, but she could not deny that he was the perfect match for Monica, who had been through hell and back with her ex-boyfriend – the same man who was Ethan’s defunct business partner.
Jasmine didn’t want to think of that creep Jackson Lyle while hosting a bridal shower, but it was difficult to do when she still woke up some nights gasping for breath because she thought she was a prisoner in that man’s home again.
Stop thinking about it. Her forced smile as she asked Nadia to prepare the upcoming gift list could have felled trees.
The gift section of the party brought an opulence Jasmine was still not used to seeing in her own home. Monica opened one gift after another, revealing gold, jewels, tickets to various destinations around the world, and even – and this almost made Jasmine gasp in absolute shock – the passing of the employment of one maid to another person. Is that legal? Apparently someone had heard that Monica was looking to replace a maid in her personal chambers and offered up someone who wanted to work in the area. Does this maid know about it? Jasmine had to believe it was true.
“I’m not drunk enough for this,” Nadia muttered, writing down the “gift” so Monica could send a thank you note later. It reeked of human trafficking until the woman who offered the “gift” said she was paying for a year’s wages as her real gift. Oh, well then!
In comparison, Jasmine’s gift seemed so paltry. When Monica unwrapped a garden party dress from the city’s most upscale boutique, Jasmine swore she felt everyone looking askance at her.
“It’s for…” she began, wishing her mouth wasn’t so dry. “It’s for the first party you host as a married woman.” Yeah. Yeah, that sounded good.
Monica smiled sweetly. That was the problem: Monica had the greatest poker face in the county. Jasmine could never tell when she was honestly pleased or just trying to be nice. “It’s lovely,” she said. “I would’ve picked this dress out for myself.”
Monica may put on fake smiles when necessary, but she wasn’t a liar. So hearing that compliment made Jasmine let out her pent-up breath.
The party could not end quickly enough. When people started excusing themselves to go to “other appointments” two hours into the festivities, Jasmine could not be disappointed. She was pleased to see the more stuck-up women from earlier leave first, probably desperate to get away from their social obligation of the week.
Soon the only women left in the room were Jasmine, Nadia, and of course Monica. Oh, and her sister-in-law and accompanying friend, both of whom said they needed to stay to sober up enough to drive back into the city. Between the two of them, they almost downed the entire bottle of champagne.
“Holy shit, no offense to you,” Eva began, gesturing in Jasmine’s direction. Nadia picked that moment to get up and go to the bathroom for half an hour. “That was one of the stuffiest parties ever, and I’ve been to some stuffy parties.”
Jasmine completely froze in her seat, the color draining from her face while waves of embarrassment crashed across her. “I… apologize.”
“Oh, it’s not your fault! The people you had to invite to play nice sucked.”
Monica put her glass firmly down on the coffee table in front of her. “You’re so rude,” she said with a whisper of a grin. Eva grinned right back at her. I’m glad they know what’s going on, because I have no idea. Should Jasmine be ashamed that her party was terrible? Should she not have invited people who didn’t want to be there… but would have been offended if they weren’t invited?
“I don’t give a shit. They don’t like me, I don’t like th
em…”
“Nobody likes you,” Kathryn said drolly. She stared at the crown molding lining the salon, as if she had any particular interest in it. “That’s your whole appeal.”
“Well,” Monica interrupted. “I agree that Jasmine was put in a difficult position, but I think she did a fine job. I enjoyed myself.”
“Thanks…”
“At any rate, we won’t have those ‘stuffy’ people at my bachelorette party next week.”
“Hell no we won’t!” Eva practically jumped off the couch and stepped on her friend’s toes. “Because I’m throwing it and only fun people can come.”
“I can hardly wait to see what you have planned, dearest sister.”
“I think I might surprise you with the amount of cock I can shove in one party. For the people I love, of course.”
“Of course. We wouldn’t want to get the wrong idea about you.”
“Are you sober enough to drive yet?” Kathryn asked Eva. “I’ve got a thing at five-thirty downtown.” She briefly looked at Jasmine and forced a smile. I hate these forced smiles. Yet Jasmine was a hypocrite, because she had mastered them too. “Not to say you throw a dull party, Jasmine. It’s a business thing.”
“Naturally. It was good to have you here.” I think…
Kathryn and Eva excused themselves, stopping to pick up their coats in the front hall before hopping in Eva’s Jaguar and tearing out of the driveway as if they had a highway to hell to catch. Jasmine could hear them yawning out on the main road.
“It wasn’t that terrible… was it?”
“Oh, Jasmine…” Monica said in a soothing voice. “It’s a hoighty toighty bridal shower. There isn’t much you could have done to make it… interesting. You followed the script well. I thank you for taking on the responsibility.”
Jasmine stared at her lap. “It was the least I could do after you asked me to be your maid of honor.”
Monica shrugged, pouring herself some cider. “We’ve been through a lot together, yes?”
Jasmine couldn’t help but stare at her, catching the way she casually draped herself across the couch now that she no longer had to look prim and proper for other people. Should I feel honored that she feels so comfortable around me? Monica was two leagues above Jasmine in every way. She was a better hostess. A better conversationalist. A better chameleon in the world of the rich.
A better sub, in every sense of the word. Jasmine’s eyes lingered on a black choker lining Monica’s throat. Most people wouldn’t recognize it as a submissive’s collar, but Jasmine did. She had a similar one, although she rarely wore it. Not like Monica, who wore it with pride, because nothing made her happier than living a submissive lifestyle, especially for her soon-to-be-husband.
“Yeah, we have. I’m surprised you would want to bring that up, though.”
“You have to talk about it, otherwise it will eat you alive.” Monica sighed. “A lot of things have been making me think about such things. I’m in a swing of change these past few months, and it’s only going to get more intense as this year goes on.” She drank, glaring at the coffee table as if it offended her. “If I don’t address things from my past right now, I won’t be prepared for the future.”
“You mean the wedding and getting married?”
Monica’s demeanor dropped to so fatigued that Jasmine had to wonder if she was going to pass out. “That’s the biggest thing at the moment. Once that’s over with… there will be other things.”
“Like…?” Jasmine cleared her throat. “Sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”
Monica studied her for a few seconds, sizing Jasmine up in ways she had never attempted before. I feel like I’m being scanned by lasers. Back when Jasmine was a plebian who had to fly coach and economy, she was always scanned in security. Now she and Ethan bypassed that without a care. They would be given cursory lookovers before boarding their private plane to wherever. No more body scans and pat downs for Jasmine Bliss.
“After this month,” Monica began, “I will be Mrs. Henry Warren. That carries a huge burden of responsibility I will have to do my best to live up to. A lot of expectations rest on my shoulders. I have to meet them while also continuing to run my business and…” She looked down in her lap and put her hand briefly on her abdomen before readjusting her entire position. The couch squeaked with her movements. “It’s a lot to take in right now.”
Jasmine nodded, not that she understood. This bridal shower was the first formal party she had hosted that wasn’t centered around her middle and lower class friends from her old life coming by to get drunk on expensive alcohol and play video games on the huge TV in the main living room. Now that’s my kind of party. She couldn’t imagine Monica enjoying something like that. Although Jasmine had often been surprised by what Monica liked – and not just in the kink scene.
“If you don’t mind…” Monica stood, smoothing out her dress. “I would like to go visit with Ethan. I’m guessing he’s upstairs in his office?”
Jasmine nodded. “Be my guest… not that you aren’t already… er, you know what I mean.”
Monica grinned. “Indeed. Thank you for the party, Jasmine. I hope to return the favor someday.”
Until that moment, Jasmine had never thought to compare her situation to Monica’s. As she watched her friend walk out of the salon, however, she wondered what she meant by that. Does she mean she hopes to throw me a bridal shower too?
Marrying Ethan?
Not like Jasmine hadn’t thought about it before…
Her thoughts were cut off when Belinda appeared in the salon and asked Jasmine if she would like help cleaning up. There wasn’t that much to clean up, but Jasmine appreciated having someone help her carry the trays and glasses into the kitchen. From there, she insisted on helping Belinda wash the dishes before the live-in maid got started cooking dinner. The last Jasmine saw of Monica was when the guest of honor stopped by the kitchen to say farewell. The next time Jasmine would see her was at the bachelorette party the following weekend. Then after that? The wedding of the year.
Chapter 2
“How was the party?”
Ethan stood in the master bath doorway, brushing his teeth while Jasmine sat cross-legged on their king-sized bed. I don’t get the point of beds this big. I can’t find him to cuddle half the night. Queen-sized was good. Ample room for people their size, plus her boyfriend didn’t feel a million miles away when she woke up in the middle of the night and found him hanging off his side because he was a weird sleeper.
She turned off the phone she was web surfing on and turned her head in his direction. “It was sufficiently boring and stuffy, which I’m told means it was a great success.”
“Who told you that?”
Ethan disappeared into the bathroom to spit out his toothpaste, so Jasmine raised her voice. “Monica! She’s the authority, isn’t she?”
It was a few seconds before Ethan wandered back into the bedroom, sans toothbrush. “Last I heard. Before you moved in, I was calling her all the time to ask how to survive social functions. You’d never guess she grew up with barely more money than we did.”
It’s because she’s the most observant person on Earth. Anyone who spent her days watching and learning from others was bound to absorb the greatest social graces… or the worst, Jasmine supposed. “Before I moved in, huh?”
He climbed on the bed, but did not pull back the covers. He must not have been too tired yet. When Ethan was ready to sleep, there wasn’t much Jasmine could do to stop the tide of Ethan Cole slipping beneath the covers and dozing himself into slumbering bliss. Jealous. Half the time Jasmine took more than an hour to sleep, and this was the most comfortable bed she ever encountered.
“Yes. Before you moved in, I had to brave everything by myself.”
“What about all those girlfriends you had before me?” Jasmine referred to his previous personal assistants. The ones he paid to serve him in the office… and in the bedroom. I come from humble, hooking means. She had to laugh at
herself once in a while. Not many women could say they got four million dollars in their checking account for taking notes and then taking it between the legs for six months.
“They didn’t go to functions with me. They weren’t real girlfriends. You know that.”
“Of course I do. I was in that position once.”
He wrapped his arm around her midsection and kissed the small of her back. “A long time ago.”
“Uh huh.”
Ethan rolled away from her, hands behind his head as he stared up at the bedroom ceiling. “Well, if she says it was a success and you did everything correctly, then it was. Don’t take the other stuff personally.”
Jasmine wasn’t going to respond to that. How do I not take it personally? Except she didn’t want to say anything because Ethan had been through his fair share of growing pains when it came to being accepted in big business. He may have been one of the richest men anyone had ever met, but that didn’t stop other multi-millionaires and billionaires from turning their noses at his crass upbringing.
“The bachelorette party is going to be next weekend. Eva Warren is hosting it.”
“Is that the one who…”
“Yup.”
“You didn’t let me finish.”
“Because I know you’re thinking of the right person.” Eva sort of stood out. Whether from the closet or…
“Who’s going to the party?” Ethan snorted. “Forget that… where are you going? And how many male strippers will there be?”
“Ha! We are getting on a flight to Miami Friday night, but I can’t imagine male strippers. From Eva. For Monica.”
“You might be surprised. She loves a good show, if you know what I mean. She’s also not shy around a strange man’s parts.”
