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They both abruptly laughed.That’s how this world works. One woman brought up another, and the best course of action was to ask,“So, what do you know?”In Monique’s case, it was in her best interest to find out more about Helen before she fell deeper in love.
“I don’t know much. Just her name and some of her holdings. The only person I know less about in that family is her father. He retired long before my time.”
“Her parents live on a ranch in Wyoming.”
“That’s so… provincial.”
They laughed again. Those were some of the words they both heard when they were thrust into the world of rich people however many years ago.
“She has a sister, too,” Monique continued after her laughter died down. “Evelyn. I only met her once, but she’s…”
“Ah, yes. Evelyn Warner. Now, her I know.” Etta leaned against the table, hand cupping her face and eyes sparkling as if they were sharing middle school gossip. “I haven’t dealt with her directly, mind you, but she comes into the office sometimes. Spends an inordinate amount of time hitting on my receptionist. Pretends I’m not there at all. Guess I’m not her type.”
Monique drew her lips into her mouth. “Everyone hits on your receptionist.Youused to hit on your receptionist.” That pretty young blond couldn’t catch a break. If Monique were single and dominant, she would hit on that woman every time she went into Etta’s office.Those sound like three words to describe Eve, though.Monique didn’t want to feel too smug about guessing Helen’s sister’s sexuality based purely on her appearance and mannerisms, but when a woman knew, she knew.
“So, what we’ve deduced about this suitor of yours is that her parents ran away to Wyoming and that her sister spends half her day trying to pick up chicks. It would be scandalous if everyone in this circle didn’t already have a million skeletons in their closet.”
Monique poured herself another glass of tea. “She’s a bit more than a suitor right now.”
Etta straightened her back. “That so? Was under the impression you’re merely dating.”
“Like I said. It’s a bit more than that.” Ice clinked against Monique’s glass as she drank.
Seconds passed. Etta studied the look on her friend’s face, while Monique pretended that she wasn’t being so scrutinized. Instead, she focused on the sun shining on her skin and reflecting off the crystal they drank from. More things Etta helped pay for.
When Etta spoke, the frivolity of the previous moment evaporated with the tweets of birds. “Does she treat you well?”
Monique met her gaze across the table.She really is my older sister now.That meant Monique could roll her eyes and pretend there were no grounds for her to say anything at all. Now, if Etta were looking at her like afriend, then maybe Monique would take it a bit more seriously.I guess she’s both. No choice but to answer now.
“She treats me…” Monique struggled to find the right word. “Like a princess.”
Etta’s balled fist gently tapped the arm of her chair.A princess. That’s what Helen called her. The beautiful, gleaming girl Helen Warner doted on. The girl in the tower. The girl constantly harassed by a dragon.
A princess.
It was as if Etta picked up on this. “There’s nothing wrong with being a princess, as long as she's a worthy prince.”
“And what about you? Are you a prince?”
“I believe the technical term is ‘pauper skank.’ I come from the slums, unlike your Ms. Warner.”
“Not this New Money vs. Old Money bullshit.”
“I’m stating the facts. People like me don’t become princes. You’re born one.”
Monique picked up the small bottle of wine and poured her ex-girlfriend another glass. “Then what are you?”
“A damn good imposter.”
Etta turned down another glass of wine. Apparently, someone was driving later.
“I don’t think Helen is posing.”
“Does she love you?”
“It’s too early for that!” Flustered, Monique folded her napkin on her empty salad plate with a huff. “We’ve only been seeing each other for… well, not long at all.”
“Uh-huh. And that’s why you’re acting like this.”
