Page 91 of Gilt

“So it seems,” I mutter. “What’s a girl have to do to get some?”

Jameson chuckles softly as he extricates his body from mine, placing me safely on my feet.

“Jameson, dear,” his mother calls, “please put a shirt on. It’s nice to see you again, Emma.”

“You, too, Mrs. West.” I don’t bother to pretend that I’m happy to see Monroe with her. The two of them are laden with shopping bags.

“Would you like some help?” Jameson offers, stepping away from me. I already miss the feel of his skin on mine.

Trust love to turn me into a wide-eyed, helpless sad sack.

“Shirt,” she repeats. I have to smother a giggle at the frustration that flits across his face, but Jameson nods and dashes up the stairs.

I stand there for a minute, trying to decide where to go. Following him seems like a bad idea because, unless I’m mistaken, his mom just put the kibosh on our afternoon sexscapades. Instead, I wander past the foyer until I find myself in the kitchen.

“Oh, hell,” Monroe mutters when she spots me. “Mom, the maid forgot to take the trash out.”

“I forgot. I got you a present,” I tell her. Then, I give her my middle finger.

“Classy.”

“I learned it from you,” I say with a fake sob.

She twirls around, her stick-straight, blonde hair whipping over her shoulders as she drops her bags on the kitchen island. Jameson reappears with his mother on his heels. This time he’s wearing a shirt and grabs my hand, bringing it to his lips for a quick kiss. Evelyn studies him for a second before giving him an approving smile. “That’s better.”

He winks at me and heads towards the fridge, kissing his mom on the cheek as he goes. He pulls out a box of pizza but before he can open it, his mother bats his hand away.

“I can’t believe you’re going to eat that.”

“I’m hungry,” he protests, but he tosses the box in the trash.

She ruffles his hair in affection. “Did you just get up?”

Monroe glances at me and smirks. “Something’s kept him in bed, obviously.”

Jameson doesn’t miss a beat, immediately picking up on what his sister is implying. He comes over and throws an arm around my shoulders. “Emma just got here. Unlike some, she’s a lady.”

“I don’t know what you’re insinuating.” Monroe shrugs as she studies her manicure. I know exactly what he’s saying, but I keep that to myself. “I just call it like I see it.”

As much as I despise Monroe, I like Jameson’s mother. There’s no need to make things any more awkward. I’m pretty certain her walking in on our make-out session covers that. Evelyn West has not only perfected the ability to look polished at any given time, but also the ability to ignore it when her children squabble.

“Emma, would you like something to eat?” she asks me as she pulls a vegetable tray out of the Sub-Zero and places it on the counter.

I shake my head. My nerves are still raw from trying to evade my own bodyguard this morning, and I’m on edge after the fight that I’ve left unfinished with Jameson.

“Probably for the best,” Monroe says. “It looks like you were eating well in Palm Springs.”

This catches her mother’s attention. She turns on Monroe and glares. “No daughter of mine will speak to another woman that way.”

“Mom, I was just—”

Evelyn silences her with a single look. “No excuses.”

“They’re not ladylike,” Jameson jumps in.

“I don’t care if either of you are ladies. In my opinion, being a lady in this day and age is highly overrated, but girls have enough problems without being catty to one another.” She speaks the truth, and we both know it, which is why we all remain quiet.

“Show Jameson what we picked up today,” Evelyn suggests after we’ve all been on our best behavior for a few minutes.