Chapter 28
Wedding plans continued to move forward.
Jamie barely had time to sit and think about getting a dress, let alone a veil, shoes, and jewelry to go with an ensemble that had yet to exist. She was too busy going over what to do with the garden for the ceremony, where to hold the reception, what flowers to import, and who to pick as her maid of honor.
Originally, she would have asked Monique to return the favor from her wedding, but one of the first things out of Monique’s mouth was, “I would love to be in your wedding party, but I’m afraid it would be too difficult to accommodate me.
Not to mention, I’ll be eight months pregnant by then, and I’m having enough troubles right now.
” Jamie was already in trouble with “only” two bridesmaids.
At least their dresses were easier to choose.
After picking a luscious royal purple to use for the color, all that was left was finding flattering looks for Seena and Natasha.
Seena picked a flirty halter top with a high waistline and a skirt that bounced above the knee.
Natasha was radiant in a more subdued cocktail dress that complemented the blond in her hair.
Their fittings at The Ruby Peacock went off without a hitch.
At least Jamie didn’t have to worry about that, although Jenny pressured her to pick one more bridesmaid to even things out.
With Monique out of the picture, that left few options, and Jamie didn’t want to confront them.
Her parents mostly kept to themselves on the manor premises, but one night Etta and Jamie returned home to find a drum circle spawning on the edge of the woods.
More than one neighbor complained about a certain sweet stench emerging from the boundary.
When Luna and Saul started getting sloppy with their pot smoking and stumbled in high one night, Etta had to – somewhat politely – ask them to keep the pot to the balconies upstairs.
“What?” she said to Beatrice when she was aghast that Etta was letting them keep smoking that stuff. “It’s not illegal around here. What do you want me to do? Alienate my future in-laws even more?”
At least they were wearing clothes when anyone but Jamie was around.
Although one bright evening Etta walked out to find Saul mowing the front lawn in nothing but a pair of denim shorts while having brisk conversations en espanol with the gardener.
Beatrice was even more horrified to find out that Saul spoke Spanish because she had been cursing him in that tongue.
“It’s not that your parents aren’t nice, Miss,” she said to Jamie at breakfast one day. “It’s just… how can he think I’m comfortable around him after all the nudity?” Jamie didn’t take any staff of Etta’s to be prudes, given the kinks she lived with, but…
Ah, the kinks.
Jamie was tied up more often than not recently, particularly in the penthouse where they were always left alone.
The more they played, both with the collar on and off, the more eager Etta became.
She took her hard. Rough. Sometimes softly, but mostly like a beast who hadn’t tasted sex in much too long – even if only half a day had gone by.
Etta demanded to take Jamie from behind, above her, in her lap – both holding her and charging her from below.
Etta took Jamie’s requests as well, much to her delight.
In between the famished thrusting and coming, there was plenty of oral fun, going in both directions.
Etta’s favorite form of foreplay was letting her tongue roam all over Jamie’s sensitive folds.
She welcomed all the sex. It allowed her to escape the stress of planning a wedding and the disappointment of being a failed experiment at an affluent match.
Jamie knew she was a terrible wife for Etta.
She couldn’t entertain. She couldn’t exert manners the way other women like Monique did, as if they were second nature.
All Jamie knew was that a lot of people didn’t care for her, other than to use her as the butt of a joke.
Some women took pity on her or at least pretended to be nice, like Kathleen, but they weren’t enough or held clout with the busybodies to assuage Jamie’s reputation.
Once, she was fine with that. Now she entered another world as Mrs. Etta Coleman.
Etta was a woman people “liked” because she had a cool demeanor and kept to herself.
A woman people “respected” because she made an unbelievable amount of money in such a short time.
A woman nobody would profess to actually be friends with because, well, Etta kept entirely to herself outside of work.
No wonder most of her friends were other queer women.
They liked the brooding type and getting her to open up. Jamie would know.
The more I think about us as a married couple that others perceive… the more I think we might be an embarrassment together.
If they were a “normal” couple – middle class and straight, at the loftiest – it would be fine.
Nobody would care. Jamie could hang out with her usual friends and tentatively deal with the neighbors until she felt out who was bullshit and who was honest. Once in a while, she might have to entertain Etta’s coworkers or bosses, but…
ha, the idea of Etta having a boss was hilarious.
More like she would have her own shop or service that provided well for an area but would never put her on the map like she was now.
So maybe Jamie would become like a friendly, shining mother-hen to her wife’s few employees.
Going to the store or office to drop off cookies and brownies she made that morning while reading the latest installment from her neighborhood book club.
She didn’t have to impress them, though.
Sure, maybe some people would think she was ditzy or “uncouth,” as Adele called her.
It wouldn’t matter. She could laugh them off, maybe rant about them to Etta as they prepared to take a nightly shower together, but for the most part not be bothered by how they felt about her.
This was a different game altogether.
Jamie hated it, but she put aside her pride and met Adele for lunch Friday afternoon, one day before the luncheon with Hyacinth Winston. That morning, Jamie had woken up to Etta’s lustful demands, and six hours later she was still walking funny.
“You’re late,” was the first thing Adele said.
She sat in a secluded corner of the company cafeteria, at a table set for a fine dining experience not often found in a place frequented by lower and middle-income staff.
(Yet Etta never had a problem asking Jamie to run down and get her a sandwich for lunch…
whether or not she worked for her.) “If I were assigning you points, you would be in the negative already.”
“I’m sorry, traffic was…”
“If you’re going to make excuses, you have to say them a certain way.
” Adele sat up, tall, pretty, and regal as Jamie took the chair across from her.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, as if she spoke to someone of a higher status.
“I was caught up in traffic, and my driver didn’t understand the urgency of this meeting.
” Her teeth practically bit those last few words. “Like that.”
Jamie nodded. This was already the least amount of fun she ever had.
“Don’t put your purse on the floor like that,” Adele further scolded.
“There is a basket for a reason. If someone doesn’t offer to take your bag for you, leave it in the designated spot before you sit down.
Any hostess worth her muster will provide a stylish way to keep your purse out of the way without letting it get dirty on the ground.
Especially in a room or building where people are eating all the time. ”
“Okay.”
“For God’s sake, don’t slouch. If you’re feeling casual – and you shouldn’t, unless it’s a lunch between friends – you can cross your legs and slump your shoulders a little, but never slouch like that.
Show off your confidence. Put out your chest a little if you’re in front of a man. Fake it until you make it.”
Jamie gulped. This was going to be a long lunch.
Adele showed her no mercy in the world of formal dining etiquette, and this went well beyond formal dining etiquette as Jamie understood it.
When she thought of good manners and upbringing, she thought of kids with books on their heads and salad forks in their hands.
Adele informed her student that such things were “middle-class rumors.” Adele would know.
She grew up middle class and had been lied to throughout her adolescence.
It wasn’t until she was having dinner with a fourth-generation CEO ten years ago that she realized filthy rich people had very different expectations.