by Josie Brown
Only a loser would attempt to impress Bettina, Kelly reasoned—
And I know just the idiot.
“You haven’t yet received your invitation?” Kelly purred sweetly. “It went out eons ago! I received mine before the holiday break, and I know you were on the list as well.”
Hearing Eleanor’s sigh of relief, Kelly almost guffawed again. “I’m sure it’s buried deep in the holiday mail. I’ve been out of town and haven’t delved into it yet.” Eleanor’s excuse was declared too adamantly to be convincing. “Just who is the event’s hostess?”
“Kimberley Savitch,” Kelly assured her. “Like me, she’s a Top Mom, but one of the good ones. We always have Bettina’s back, not like some of the Top Moms who still hold Art’s embezzlement against her. You know, like Jillian Frederick, and Jade Pierce—and of course, that troublemaker, Ally Thornton. Not that I have anything against Ally personally, mind you. But you must know how Bettina feels about her. About all three of them, really.”
This time, the silence was on Eleanor’s end. Finally, she murmured, “Frankly, I hadn’t realized there was such animus between Bettina and Lorna—and Lorna’s friends.”
“Sad, but true,” Kelly sighed dispiritedly. “Eleanor, I assume you’d like to know where the shower is being held?”
“Yes, of course.” By Eleanor’s tone, it was obvious that she was somewhat annoyed by the way Kelly was doling out this pertinent information.
Well, too bad. Kelly ate up a few more minutes by pretending to rummage for something that would hold the answer. “Ah, here it is—my calendar! Kimberley is throwing a tea at the Palace Hotel.”
“How lovely,” Eleanor murmured.
“As you know, the Palace is a favorite of your daughter’s”—
“Yes. When she was a little girl, we always had her birthday parties there,” Eleanor admitted.
Of course you did, Kelly thought. Nothing was out of bounds for the Morrow Connaught progeny; certainly not the grandest locale for your little princess’s tea parties.
And the rest of us were her little ladies in waiting. We hated it.
“And the date?” Eleanor asked.
“Beg pardon?”
“The date—please.” There was more annoyance in Eleanor’s voice than pleading.
No matter, it still brought a smile to Kelly’s lips. “The last Saturday in January—the twenty-fifth. Two-thirty.”
“Oh! But…” Eleanor’s voice flagged with dismay. “But Lorna’s shower begins just ninety minutes prior—”
Kelly clicked her tongue. “I know. Dismaying, isn’t it?” She paused before adding, “To tell you the truth, Mrs. Connaught, some of us suspect that Jillian and Ally chose the day on purpose.”
“Do tell?”
“Granted, they claimed it was an oversight,” Kelly divulged. “But as Kimberley explained to them, she didn’t want to call off Bettina’s shower, since the Palace was already booked up four weeks solid on either side of the twenty-fifth. Besides, the invitations had gone out at least two weeks prior to Lorna’s! Ally’s response was that Lorna and Bettina have no friends in common.”
“How dare she!” Eleanor’s voice trembled with anger.
“I know! The audacity!” Kelly paused dramatically. “Here’s the worst part, Eleanor: when Kimberley begged them to reconsider the date for Lorna’s event, they refused.” She clucked her tongue. “We asked them to at least move it to the late morning! That way, even if some of us left Lorna’s event at Jillian’s Presidio Heights home later than anticipated, we wouldn’t get caught in downtown traffic on our way to Bettina’s soiree at the Palace, or”—she paused dramatically—“be tempted not to go at all. Can you imagine?”
“Sadly, yes, I can,” Eleanor replied curtly.
Good. Get good and mad.
“No doubt, Bettina’s real friends were dismayed to have to choose between the two events,” Kelly assured her. “Still, our loyalty is in order—as is yours, no doubt.”
“I would never miss Bettina’s baby shower!” Eleanor declared. “Even if…if I have to skip Lorna’s.” She sighed. “Needless to say, it’s somewhat disconcerting to discover my daughter-in-law is so clueless about her friends’ lack of empathy for Bettina.”
“I thoroughly agree,” Kelly declared mournfully. “Do you know if Bettina was even invited to Lorna’s shower?”
“I thought so. Then again, considering what’s gone down to date, maybe that is too presumptive on my part.”
“I’m relieved Bettina will have you at her side for the whole day,” Kelly said sweetly. “Now remember—she’s to know nothing at all about her surprise shower.”
“Mum’s the word,” Eleanor assured her solemnly. “Thank you, Kelly, for your kindness toward my daughter.”
Kelly’s laugh was almost raucous. “What are friends for? Oh, and Mrs. Connaught, remember it’s a surprise—so, please come up with some excuse to get Bettina from Lorna’s shower to the Palace without her knowing.”
“Of course. I’m sure I’ll figure something out,” Eleanor promised.
“Skipping Lorna’s altogether would serve her friends right! …I’m sorry, that just slipped out. It’s not the high road at all.”
“To use your analogy, it may be the only road,” Eleanor muttered.
“You are an example of grace under pressure, Mrs. Connaught. Bettina is so lucky to have you as her mother.”
“Thank you, Kelly—albeit, I’m sure at times she doubts it. But January twenty-fifth won’t be one of those times.”
Kelly waited until Eleanor hung up the phone before she burst out laughing.
Then she made the call that, she rued, would end Bettina’s domination of the club once and for all.
The indignant howls of the Savitches’ dog, Precious, were loud enough to divert Kimberley’s attention from her daily regimen of push-ups. Perhaps she should have been appalled to find her three-year-old daughter, Hailey, face-down in Precious’s food bowl, lapping up the Tibetan terrier’s daily ration of Orijen Red Dry Dog Food. But considering that the child rarely ate anything good for her, in truth, Kimberley was relieved. Orijen’s label boasted of fresh cuts of Black Angus beef, Alberta lamb, bison, and wild boar paired with the freshest of dried fruits and vegetables in a low glycemic combination.
It sure beat Hailey’s usual breakfast of Fruit Loops.
Just as Precious bared its teeth at the toddler, Kimberley snatched the child from his bowl. She was still holding the squalling child when her cell phone rang from the pocket of her jacket. The ring tone—set to The Imperial March from Star Wars—signaled a call from one who was sure to cause her pain, one way or another:
Kelly Bryant Overton.
Her arms went slack enough for Hailey to scurry back toward the kitchen. Kimberley made a feeble attempt to chase after her but froze when the overture reached an ominous crescendo.
Her child’s dietary choices would have to wait. Wincing, she hit the green button on her phone’s display and murmured, “What do you want, Kelly?”
“If you know what’s good for you, I suggest you show a little more respect,” Kelly growled.
“I’m…sorry.” Kimberley’s voice trembled enough that it sounded as if she meant it. She winced, remembering the welts on her back from the beating Kelly had given her. It happened when Kelly found out that Kimberley had sex with their mutual lover, Andy Hepburn, in the men’s room of the Moscone Recreation Center during the last Pacific Heights Moms & Tots meet-up before Thanksgiving.
Like all the Top Moms—Kimberley included—Kelly had heard about the liaison between Andy and a “mystery mommy” at a special club meeting called in order to coerce a confession from the guilty party, just prior to the club’s After-Thanksgiving Pot Luck.
None of the moms confessed—certainly not Kimberley.
At the potluck, Andy was confronted by Bettina, who demanded the name of his lover. He told her.
Afterward, he also confessed to Kelly.
Neither woman knew he had revealed Kimberley’s name to the other, but both threatened Kimberley to reveal her indiscretion to her husband, Jerry, if she didn’t kowtow to their whims.
Apparently, Kelly was turning the screws first.
Happy New Year to me, Kimberley thought.
“That’s better. Now, write this down,” Kelly commanded.
Instinctively, Kimberley scurried for a pen and pad. The only thing she could find was a crayon and a Bed, Bath, & Beyond coupon. It would have to do. “I’m ready.”
“Go to Union Street Papery. You’re ordering custom invitations that proclaim that you are hosting a baby shower for Bettina Connaught Cross—be sure to include the name of her ex, do you hear me?—on Saturday, January 25th, two-thirty, at the Palace Hotel. For a high tea. RSVP no later than next Friday. Got that?”
“But—why?”
“Don’t question me! Just do as I say.”
“Okay—okay!” Exasperated, Kimberley sighed. “Let’s see: there are now twenty members per group, times five groups. So, perhaps I should order one hundred and ten, just to play it safe?”
“Sure, that sounds about right.” Kelly’s cruel chuckle sent a chill down Kimberley’s spine. “Now, listen very carefully: the invitations must be custom. Each is to be addressed to a club member. The RSVP cards are to be returned to me. Stay at Union Street Papery until they are completed. Then you’ll drop them by my house, today—except for one of them. It is to be addressed to Eleanor Morrow Connaught. You will stamp it, and then place it yourself through Eleanor’s home mail slot—again, today. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes! I mean…no!” Kimberley bit her lip to keep from stuttering. “So, you’re distributing the rest of the invitations?”
“Of course,” Kelly purred. “It’s the least I can do. Well, that, and call the Palace to make the party arrangements. All you have to do is show up on the big day. Easy peasy.”
“You’re arranging it? So, hosting this event with me?” The thought made Kimberley tremble.
“No, you idiot! I’m doing what I can to assure that you get back into Bettina’s good graces. Aren’t I a wonderful bestie?”
“If you say so.”
“No. I want to hear it from you. ‘Kelly, you are the best friend a girl can have. You are also the best mistress. I will do anything for you.’”
Kimberley tried to speak, but she couldn’t. She felt bile inching up her throat.
“I’m waiting,” Kelly hissed ominously.
Kimberley allayed a second nauseous wave with a deep breath. “Kelly…you are…the best friend a girl can have.” She paused because she felt faint. “You are also the best…mistress. I will…I will do anything for you.”
“I know you will, Kimberley. Because you know just how bad I can be if you don’t.” She laughed. “One more thing. Do not discuss the shower with anyone—not even the Top Moms. And least of all Bettina. It is to be a complete surprise. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Kelly! Not to worry—”
When she heard Kelly click off, Kimberley’s gag reflex gave way. She upchucked onto the floor.
Precious lapped it up. Apparently, he found it better tasting than Orijen, or for that matter, Fruit Loops.
Kimberley couldn’t care less.
She kicked the dog out into the yard.
She then bundled up Hailey and her four-year-old brother into their jackets before tethering them into their two-seated Baby Jogger. Before walking over to Union Street Papery, she’d drop them at Sally Dunder’s under the pretense that they had set up a play date. Sally’s befuddlement would be brushed off with a brusque reprimand, chiding her for the many times she’d forgotten similar play dates.
None were true, but Sally never questioned Kimberley’s actions.
It suddenly struck her: When it comes to Kelly, I’m just like Sally. I never question her or call her bluff. I just kowtow to whatever she wants.
I’ve got to get out from under her thumb.
The stationery store’s rush job doubled the price of the invitations, but Kimberley was able to get them to Kelly within two hours.
Kelly’s home was a modern monstrosity that sat on a corner of Pacific Avenue. She seemed to wait forever after ringing the doorbell. Finally, it was answered by a butler: very tall, very dark, and too good looking, despite his sneer.
When she handed over the box of invitations, he held it away from his chest, as if it had cooties or something.
From somewhere on a higher floor, Kimberley heard Kelly exclaim, “Ask her if she kept one of them and if she delivered it personally.”
Kimberley shook her head. “Um…no, not yet.” Ah, hell. She rolled her eyes at her forgetfulness.
“I thought not,” Kelly replied gaily. “Gordon, you may allow her into the foyer.”
Kelly’s manservant stood to one side to let Kimberley walk past him.
Kimberley looked up to find Kelly standing at the top of the staircase. Her feet were clasped in white stiletto heels. Her hair glistened with dampness. She was tying a white silk robe around her naked body. Because it was also wet, the robe was virtually see-through where it clung to her nipples. Through the robe, they looked large and dark.
Kelly didn’t return her gaze. Instead, she commanded the butler, “Now, hand her the box.”
He shoved it back into Kimberley’s arms.
Kimberley stared down at it.
“Now, she is to get on her knees,” Kelly stated.
“What?” Kimberley couldn’t believe her ears.
“If she refuses, Gordon, you may shove her out the door. Then get my cell phone. I’ll want to call a lawyer: Jerome Savitch.”
At the sound of her husband’s name, Kimberley’s mouth went dry.
Gordon’s dispassionate glance slid her way.
She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. Still, she kneeled on the marble foyer.
“She is to open the box—with her teeth.”
“I can’t! I—I won’t.”
“Gordon.” That one word was more of a warning to Kimberley than to the manservant.
Gordon bent beside Kimberley in order to whisper into her ear. “She’s not bluffing. You know this first hand. We both have the scars to prove it.” He pulled his collar from his neck, revealing a welt.
When Kimberley nodded, a tear fell onto the invitation box. Stiffened with resolve, she forced herself to bend over the box. Tilting her head until she had the ribbon between her teeth, she pulled it to one side until the lid was free of it.
“Good girl!” Kelly clapped slowly. “Now, nudge it off with your nose. Quickly!”
Kimberley lowered her head and did as she was told.
The open box revealed neat rows of pink and blue striped cards. The script was written in calligraphy, as were the RSVP cards, and their return envelopes. Slips of blank vellum separated all of this from the larger envelopes that would hold the invitations and the accompanying response cards.
The larger envelopes were already addressed and stamped, including Eleanor’s, which sat on the very top.
“How beautiful!” Kelly cooed. “Now, Kimberley, I’d like you to place Eleanor’s invitation in its envelope. And before you ask, yes, you may use your hands.”
Kimberley scrambled to do so.
“Good girl! Isn’t she a good girl, Gordon?”
“Yes, madam. She is a very good girl.” He winked at Kimberley.
She blushed.
“Now, Kimberley, stay on your knees, but hold out Bettina’s envelope, so that Gordon can lick…it…for…you.”
The way Kelly drew out each word was particularly annoying. Still, Kimberley held out the envelope for him to lick.
He rolled his tongue over the envelope flap. But he didn’t stop there. He licked Kimberley’s thumb too.
Her hand trembled.
“You may seal the envelope, Kimberley,” Kelly commanded. “Feel free to use Gordon’s chest for added pressure.” She giggled. “Take it from
me, he’s rock hard.”
Kimberley held the envelope against Gordon’s chest and pressed down. The whole time, her eyes never left his face.
He has a nice smile, she thought.
She longed to kiss his lips. Or, at the very least, to suck his thumbs.
They’re large. I might gag on them.
The thought sent a thrill through her.
As if reading her mind, he chuckled.
“Ah, foreplay,” Kelly sighed. “Gotta love it! Gordon, show Kimberley the door. Then get your ass up here for my, er, massage before Wills wakes up.”
“Yes, madam.” He shrugged resignedly at Kimberley as he helped her off her knees.
He was still holding Kimberley’s elbow as Kelly’s footsteps echoed from the upstairs hallway. But he didn’t steer Kimberley out the front door by her arm, or even the small of her back. Instead, he cupped her ass before closing the door firmly behind her.
Kimberley remembered that Eleanor Morrow Connaught’s stately mansion was just a street over and a few blocks east, across from Alta Plaza Park.
She was relieved that there seemed to be no activity around the premises: that is to say, no gardener or handyman. No nanny tucking little Lily into her coat.
And, thankfully, no Eleanor or Bettina.
Warily, Kimberley stepped onto the walkway in front of the house. Slowly, she made her way toward the home’s expansive front stoop.
One of the massive double doors held a mail slot. She was just about to slip the envelope into it, but she paused. She looked down at the invitation in her hand. She kissed it. This was a silly gesture, she knew, and didn’t bring her any closer to Butler Gordon’s delectable lips—
Still, a girl can fantasize…
As the envelope fell through the slot, a premonition of dread washed over her.
Why? She wondered. I should feel elated! By hosting this shindig, I’ll be back in Bettina’s good graces…
Because of Kelly. She’s masterminded this whole thing.
