Chapter Twelve
Poppy
L eah stumbles into the hotel suite looking like she’s just returned from a week-long luxury retreat.
She’s glowing.
Her dark hair is freshly styled, tousled in a way that screams expensive lifestyle. She’s wearing a new silk slip dress that I know for a fact she didn’t have on her yesterday, and to top it off, she’s also carrying a shopping bag from Tiffany’s.
Emma, Jas and I are still sitting cross-legged in our pajamas, all of us mid-breakfast as she waltzes in and dramatically drops her things down onto the floor. I watch in amusement as she collapses onto the bed, a wide grin on her pretty face.
“I’ve found him,” she sighs, starry-eyed as she blinks up at the ceiling.
Jas doesn’t even look up from her croissant. “Oh, here we go.”
“Just to clarify - who is ‘him’?” Emma asks.
“My future husband.”
I set my coffee down. “Leah.”
“He’s perfect ,” she gushes, kicking off her heels and sighing dreamily. “His name is Jacques. He’s older, but in a distinguished way. Forty-two -”
Emma isn’t easily shocked, and yet she chokes on her juice.
“Leah, that’s almost twice your age.”
“And he’s rich ,” Leah continues, undeterred. “Like, disgustingly rich. He has a holiday home here in Monaco, multiple cars that cost more than my entire existence, and -” she reaches out, stretching so that she can lift the Tiffany’s bag from the floor, displaying it to us all dramatically “- he took me shopping this morning.”
Jas finally looks up from her food. “Already?”
“I mean, I was hardly going to say no,” Leah shrugs.
Emma pinches the bridge of her nose.
“Okay, well. As long as you’re alive and haven’t been sold off to the highest bidder.”
“Of course not. Want to know something even better?”
“Better than you being sold at auction?” I deadpan.
Jas snorts out a laugh, but Leah ignores us both as she continues on.
“He’s throwing a party at his place tonight, and he’s invited all of us!"
Emma raises a brow. “Leah, we were meant to be going to the casino. It’s on the itinerary.”
Leah waves that off immediately.
“Oh, please. We’ve already done the casino, and we can do it again another night. We were only squeezing that in so soon for Poppy’s sake. Besides,” - she points at me - “you said that you don’t even like gambling.”
I hesitate .
“…Yeah. Well. That is true.”
“Okay, fine ,” Emma sighs. “Fancy rich guy’s party instead of the casino. But if this turns out to be some terrible decision -”
“It won’t,” Leah assures us. “Trust me, this is going to be iconic .”