Chapter 47
They spent most of the afternoon downtown, walking hand-in-hand when they weren’t in some shop looking for new decorations for their homes or having lunch in an outdoor café that let Jamie feel that breeze in a new light.
Etta was a perfect lady outside of making her girlfriend come in front of God and most definitely country.
She didn’t let Jamie carry anything but her purse, unafraid to be seen with more than one shopping bag that soon disappeared into her car.
Jamie had no qualms pouring her drinks at lunch, and she in turn engaged Jamie in conversations that made her forget they were technically in a scene for a while.
Is this what Monique was talking about? Forgetting the kink aspect and doing what feels natural?
The only thing that had changed from this moment to what they usually did when out for a day was the heavy air of what they were about.
Jamie never forgot that she wore her collar.
Etta wasn’t just her fiancée. She was her Domme today, and Jamie had to do whatever she wanted, and anticipate things she didn’t even know she yet wanted.
She was constantly brushing her jacket clean so she looked presentable wherever they went.
Jamie was pretty sure a professional photographer from a paper caught a shot of them, but she didn’t care.
So what if they showed up in the society pages out on a date?
People complimented her collar. Granted, most of those people had no idea what it symbolized, but Jamie still blushed to hear how beautiful it was. Etta thanked them on Jamie’s behalf, who was so flummoxed that Etta had to lead her away from every situation.
This whole time, Jamie thought about how much she wanted to please her.
They were getting married in over six weeks.
Pretty soon, Jamie would be Mrs. Coleman, one of the most envious positions around.
Surely, Etta understood this. No matter how many times she said she wanted to be with her above all other women, Jamie still worried that Etta wasn’t pleased enough with her.
Funny how that thought only came to her when she had the collar on.
Maybe she was more natural at this whole sub thing than she thought.
It’s my job to make sure she’s taken care of.
To make sure that I am available to her.
She kept waiting for Etta to take her somewhere and have her way with her.
The woman hadn’t so much as flinched. Still, Jamie sort of wished Etta would ask her to be naughty in the back corner of some store or behind the tinted windows of her car.
Their date day came to an end when they got in the car after spending half an hour in an Asian import store. Etta bought a birthday present for a friend, and Jamie purchased a new table for the salon where she liked to hang out. It would be delivered on Monday, they were assured.
Etta drove them to the penthouse, where someone was more than happy to help them with their bags and park Etta’s car, which she rarely brought to stay downtown. A generous tip was left for this gracious employee.
“Now,” Etta said, as soon as the front door to the penthouse closed, “we’ve got a big dinner ahead of us. Remember what I told you to do last time we had dinner with business associates?”
Jamie nodded. “Stay silent and be watchful.”
“You should still be observant and studious of other people’s needs. However, there’s no need for you to be quiet today. Although, it’s probably best I choose your outfit again. Wouldn’t want you picking something bland.”
Jamie’s mouth twitched. “When have I ever picked something bland, ma’am?”
“Never. But let’s not risk it.”
“Uh-huh.”
Jamie was not surprised when Etta picked a black dress from the penthouse closet.
That closet is nowhere near as big as the walk-in back home.
Does the job, though. Jamie was getting jaded.
Not like she kept much downtown, anyway.
All the really nice stuff stayed up in the hills, aside from some choice cocktail dresses.
Like the one Etta chose for her. This one was a Calvin Klein sheath dress, with a golden buckle cinching the waist and a sharp V-neck cut accentuating her collarbone.
It was far from the most expensive thing in her closet, but it was slimming and, well, if Etta’s wandering hands could be trusted, stunning on Jamie.
Etta sat her down at her vanity. To Jamie’s great, almost heart-attack-inducing surprise, Etta brushed out her fiancée’s curls and pulled her hair back in a low-riding ponytail that made her look at least five years younger.
“Since when are you my stylist, ma’am?” Jamie asked. Etta had never brushed her hair before, and Jamie never thought in a million years to ask. Why would she?
“Since I decided I wanted to make sure you were perfect for tonight.” Etta pulled out a black felt box.
At first, Jamie thought there would be something new in it, but instead she found her collection of sapphire jewelry that Etta had gifted her over the first few weeks of their relationship.
So happened that it was both of their favorite things for Jamie to wear.
While Jamie put the earrings in, Etta clipped the barrette into her ponytail.
The bracelet went on right after the sapphire ring on Jamie’s right hand.
From head to toe, she was a simple black and sapphire beauty that made Etta growl in her ear and say she wanted to devour her right there… but would wait.
Jamie swapped out her white platforms for black Roman sandals that Etta said were to die for. She said that with such a serious air that Jamie had no choice but to believe her as she changed into a work outfit appropriate for a business dinner.
Jamie borrowed one of Etta’s smaller jackets before they left, hopping back in the Lamborghini and driving ten minutes away to the type of fussy restaurant that specialized in banquets and larger business dinners.
In fact, Jamie soon recognized the name as the place she and Etta had considered having their rehearsal dinner at before deciding it was much too far away.
They were not the first couple there. Jamie encountered Adele, stag, seeing her for the first time since Italy.
Since she was apparently in the arms of a nicotine-addicted fashion designer…
named Bonita. Jamie kept her mouth shut as Adele insisted on introducing her to a few people Etta probably forgot about.
There was Sheldon and Priscilla Musgrove, oil tycoons turned investment geniuses.
Pamela Graves, the only woman Adele admitted could outdo her in the new-money scheme of being the richest woman in America.
Carlton Holmes, some old money patriarch who liked to stick his nose in everything here and there.
And Tad Linfield and Johnny Hitchcock II, the second-richest gay couple in the country, and the richest when it came to real estate.
Other people, such as the Blakes, the Anderssens, and Charlotte’s father, were there, mingling with the other guests.
Francesca Blake and Lara Anderssen exchanged polite words before one turned away in disgust and the other in more disgust. Charlotte’s father, the son of an automotive giant, was hell-bent on flattering Pamela Graves until she agreed to see his collection of rare Japanese scroll paintings after dinner.
Before they sat down to dinner at a large oval table to enjoy quails stuffed with vegetables Jamie had still never heard of, Sheldon Musgrove made the embarrassing mistake of calling Tad and Johnny cousins instead of engaged to be married.
It’s amazing how many social gaffes these people come up with on their own.
Meanwhile, they could get away with it, even if Tad Linfield looked like he smelled a dead horse somewhere in the room and Francesca Blake was pretending Lara Anderssen could keep her hands off her own spouse for five seconds.
Jamie felt like the pinnacle of ladylike qualities as she sat down with her back straight and napkin across her lap.
She even knew which fork to use, much to Adele’s relief.
The dinner conversation was beyond her, but this time Jamie didn’t have the excuse of a “missing” voice to not speak.
So when Francesca turned to her and asked, “What do you think of the new exhibit at the art museum, Jamie?” she had no choice but to answer.
Much to Adele’s chagrin, who knew Jamie hadn’t set foot in the art museum for at least a year.
Stay calm and bullshit your way out of this.
Jamie smiled kindly, hand perched on her wineglass as she searched for the best answer to come to the forefront of her mind.
“I thought it was delightful,” she said.
What the fuck is at the art museum right now?
Divert! Divert! “Etta took me there a little while ago. We both love going to the museum and seeing the exhibits.”
“Is that so? I never took Etta for an art woman.” Francesca sat back in her seat, pondering this info. “It’s always good to hear about you younger people enjoying the culture around you. Too easy to become complacent these days.”
“Well, if there’s any woman in this world who refuses to be complacent, it’s my fiancée.” Jamie wasn’t lying about that – and what she said caught the attention of the woman sitting directly across from them.
“Not complacent, huh?” Lara asked with a debilitating smirk. “I’d like to see that.”
Jamie averted her eyes before she could blush in front of Francesca. Etta took her hand beneath the table and drew it to her leg.
“I am most certainly not complacent,” she muttered in Jamie’s ear, before turning her attention back to a conversation with Tad Linfield. Etta did not let go of Jamie’s hand.
Halfway through dinner, Adele asked to talk to Etta and Jamie in private. “Just a little something has come up. We’ll be right back!” she promised the group.