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Sylvie
“Omg. Have you tried the smoked salmon canapé?” Kendall pops one of those fancy appetizers into her mouth. “It’s to die for.”
I look at the tray that the hip server holds in front of me and grab one. “The rich life agrees with you.”
A year ago, my sister married her then-boss, a hot financial investor, and has waltzed her way into an instant family—complete with his precocious elementary-aged daughter.
Tonight, we’re all dressed up for a party he’s throwing for some of his VIP clients in his home.
I take the appetizer into my mouth. The taste is weird, a bit too sour, and the tiny salmon strip feels clammy for my taste—not that I’m a seafood person anyway. I’m sure a top chef would approve of this food; I just don’t have a fancy palate. I somehow manage to swallow it, then reach for my glass and take a generous sip of wine to wash it down. “No, thanks.”
Kendall chuckles. “Girl.”
I shrug. “I guess you got used to, hmmm, this life. But it doesn’t mean every fancy food is all that.”
“That’s true. I still wouldn’t trade chicken nuggets for anything.”
I smile. I could go to McDonald's right now. But my child palate at twenty-one years old is one of the reasons I’m probably not getting accepted at Sugar & Silk, therefore hurting my chances of landing a wealthy guy. Or at least a financially stable guy. A guy with a good credit score. “Chicken nuggets. That’s my language.”
She gives me a warm hug. My big sister has always been my rock. “You crack me up. Have you been dating anyone interesting?”
I suck in a breath and quickly disengage from her. “Not recently.”
She tilts her head to the side, her pretty eyes trained on me. “You told me you’d join the Sugar & Silk. Right?”
“Yes.” I swallow. “I want to.” But I haven't been called back after a couple of in-person interviews. Sugar & Silk is an exclusive sugar baby agency where the women are vetted before they join. My sister was approved and was part of it in the past. She’s an effervescent, beautiful, curvy woman who lights up a room with her smile. She always has something adorable to say. As for me? I'm usually the one in the background—with a small smile and wave, trying hard to sound cool. And failing.
“You should do it,” she says.
I don’t have the heart to tell her I’m not good enough to make the roster.
But I can’t ask Kendall for help anymore.
She helped me after I got out of an abusive relationship over a year ago. My ex, Brandon, was an alcoholic, and he left me in a world of debts—which she also helped me pay. And then, she offered me a job as a manager at her exclusive daycare.
She even invites me to fun events like this one, so I'll rub shoulders with successful people. Maybe that's what she wants—for me to touch these rich people and turn into an osmosis-type makeover.
“Kendall. Can you please come for a picture?” The social media person, who’s been taking pictures since she arrived, asks. “I’d like to take a picture of you and the other wives for the newsletter.”
“I’ll be right back,” Kendall whispers to me.
“Take your time… wife,” I say the last word in a low whisper.
Wife.
Maybe I’m bitter because she’s the first wife I know upfront.
My mom never married, and my dad left us when we were young.
I have a few cousins, but they aren’t married yet.
I’m not jealous, though. No siree. Being jealous of Kendall is like cussing out Mother Theresa. It’s something you don’t do. It’s emotional suicide. Would I love a husband? Yes. Would I dream of him being as handsome and powerful as her husband? Also yes.
But I also know my limitations.
I’m twenty-one. I have my age going for me and passable good looks. But older men, like the ones in the Sugar & Silk agency, are looking for more. They want a sophisticated woman who they can also take to parties and events as arm candy. That’s probably why I wasn’t invited to join the agency. I need to bring more to the table.
