by Cynthia Dane
There were other grand gestures, such as the booking of a famous jazz singer for their wedding, more goblets, glasses, and dishes than Jasmine would ever know what to do with, and even beautiful jewelry sets that women claimed came from their own families. When Jasmine later asked her only friends there why these women would give away such precious heirlooms, they all shrugged and said, “Easy. They didn’t like them. Or they’re lying. Not about the monetary worth, obviously, but about the emotional value. That’s just a story.” Jasmine now had a favorite ruby clasp to call her own, though. “Don’t wear it in public too often,” Monica warned. “People will think that you and Mrs. Lahey are too favorable.”
Jasmine had expected extravagant gifts that would make her other friends’ gifts of sexy lingerie and simple porcelain dish sets look quaint, but she was not expecting the good will extended to her by certain women in attendance.
“You and Ethan are such a lovely couple,” Francesca announced in front of everyone. She turned to the others, some of whom were part of her inner circle, and others who were flies to her. “We’ve had dinner with them more than once, and I’ve never seen such refinement from newcomers like them.”
Jasmine bit her lip in anger – who was she calling newcomers? – but Monica put a hand on her knee and flashed her a reassuring smile. Yes, yes, Francesca Blake didn’t know any better. Whatever.
“Thank you so much for your generosity,” Jasmine said through clenched teeth. “Ethan and I always enjoy dinners with you and your husband.”
Francesca sat down, pride swelling in her cheeks. “Even Lady Winchester has told me that she thinks Jasmine will make a fine board member one day.”
Gasps went around the room. Jasmine blinked away some dirt in her eyes, oblivious to what people were saying. The only reason she found out this was such a big deal was because Kathryn visibly blanched across from her, as if to say, “You think what now? You’re lying!”
Jasmine didn’t want to ask what Francesca meant, lest she look even more ignorant. Later, she discovered that the woman meant The Society Board, which was a collection of the richest, most powerful, and nosiest wives around. These women were responsible for many charity events – which was how Kathryn intimately knew them, not that she would ever officially join, not being nosy or bored enough – but mostly made their infamy by declaring who was who in the world of high society. If they liked Jasmine enough to ask her to join one day, that meant she could become nigh untouchable of public criticism.
I’d rather eat my thumb.
“In fact,” Francesca said, holding up one of the last unopened gifts. “Mrs. Winchester asked me to give this to you, since she unfortunately could not make the party.” This didn’t surprise anyone. Of course Hyacinth Winchester had been invited, but nobody expected her to make an appearance. There were good odds she would send a gift, however, and it would probably be more dishes or something related to her plants…
Or it could be the tablecloth Jasmine had spilled wine on weeks ago.
Only Adrienne had been there, and she immediately recognized it. The others had a gradual realization, since they had all heard the terrible tale, but didn’t know what the tablecloth looked like. Now they guessed, correctly. Looks were exchanged. Murmurs erupted. Jasmine took her time unfolding the heirloom and searching for the stain that Ethan paid so much money to get rid of. There wasn’t a mark in sight.
There was, however, a handwritten note at the bottom of the box.
With the scent of a fresh garden embedded in the rice paper, Jasmine unfolded the note and read, “My regrets that I could not attend such an important event in your life. Please take this as my apology. You seemed to fancy it so well that you left your mark all over it.”
Nobody, even after photos for the paper were taken and the ass-kissers like Francesca left, could figure out what Hyacinth Winchester meant by this gesture.
“She was so uptight about it!” Adrienne declared. “She made it sound like this was one of the most precious items in her repository. No offense, Jasmine, but why would she give it to you?”
Monica interjected before Jasmine could grit her teeth again. “Indeed, it’s either the best slam I’ve ever seen from a woman like her, or she was blustering like everyone else here. I’m sorry, Jasmine, but I think it’s the former.”
Eva shook her head. “You pissed off Hyacinth Winchester. She never forgets.”
“It’s that bad?”
“Well, she won’t ruin you,” Kathryn said, “but she’s not exactly known for her bouts of forgiveness. We went to her school,” she jerked her thumb toward Eva, “and one time some first year girl accidentally tracked mud in the private receiving room Hyacinth keeps on the academy grounds. Next week, the girl’s family was bankrupt.”
Eva sighed. “Poor Cara. She was in my class… and hot.”
Adrienne was not letting this go. “Don’t be serious. Those two things are not related. You mean Cara Gaines, right? Her father went bankrupt because of bad deals.”
“Yes, deals that go back to the Winchester family. It was probably the final straw that got Hyacinth off her ass to do something about said deals. Whatever. Point is, Jasmine better watch her back.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Kathryn chastised her friend. “She’s being cheeky. That’s it.”
“I hope you’re right.” Poor Adrienne was more flustered about this than Jasmine. “Anyway, enough about this droll party. Give us deets about the bachelorette festivities.”
All eyes were back on Jasmine. Since Selena was planning that party, nobody in any circle had any idea what was going on. I hope it would be good enough for them… It would be good enough for Jasmine, whatever it was.
“I actually don’t know anything about it.” That was the truth. Selena had been so secretive about what she had planned that Jasmine could only guess. “She said she would send out the details about where to meet later this weekend.”
“Wherever we’re going, there better be booze and hot men.”
Jasmine turned to Kathryn. “So you’re going?”
“Of course I’m going! I had too much fun at Monica’s party to pass up another one.”
“How the hell do you remember? You were passed out drunk!”
“As long as it’s not Vegas, I don’t care where we go.”
“What’s that got to do with being passed out drunk?” Adrienne asked.
Jasmine doubted it would be Vegas. Selena had a healthy budget bequeathed to her, but she was the type of girl who preferred to keep things closer to home.
***
By the time of her bachelorette party the next weekend, Jasmine had finalized the last of her wedding plans. Oh, there was still the construction in the garden to contend with, and God knew they still had last minute RSVPs rolling in, but all the pressing matters? Magically done, thanks to Jenny’s incessant pestering and Adrienne’s intervention. Bridal gown? Check, and Bonita had confirmed she would be flying out for the fitting and final alterations soon. Flowers? Everywhere. Bridal parties accounted for and dressed? Juan was not crazy about the purple cummerbund, but he would live. The cake? Jasmine had chosen an eight-tier affair that was simple and elegant – and hopefully delicious with its chocolaty center.
With no more planning to contend with, Jasmine was able to focus her efforts on Kathryn’s charity. She was compiling local shelters to touch base with regarding questions when an unexpected phone call came through her cell.
“Yo, how far up in these Hills do you fucking live?”
Jasmine almost couldn’t believe the voice on the other end of the line. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, never mind. Driver found your place. Get out here!”
Nobody but Selena had expected Nala’s arrival. Even Selena was shocked she came, for the west coast woman originally declined the invitation. Then, as she explained, she found out that her boyfriend’s mother was coming to visit, and she suddenly had to fly out east to join her friend in marital festivities.
“So you came to get smashed?”
“Hell yeah I came to get smashed.”
Even with more friends making their way in Jasmine’s direction, she left the manor with only her mother on Saturday evening. Everyone else was already downtown, Nala supposedly helping Selena get the party ready.
The only info Jasmine had as she and Luna took the Town Car was that they were to meet at the center plaza in the commercial business district. Naturally, Jasmine assumed this meant everyone would meet there and then head over to wherever Selena and Nala were.
She was not expecting an empty plaza as her driver left.
“Well, we might be early.” Luna sat down on a bench, her flowing skirt caught in a breeze. She is totally not wearing underwear. Jasmine tried not to think about it. “The evening is still young. The sun hasn’t even set yet.” She shielded her eyes when she looked up, as if to prove her point.
That was all well and good, but they were only five minutes early, and Luna had the kind of expression on her face that Jasmine did not trust. She knows something.
Sure enough, right at seven, a man in a sharp black suit and dark sunglasses crossed the plaza and came up to her.
“Jasmine Bliss?” he asked with a heavy tone.
“Er… yeah.” Jasmine instinctively clutched her purse, wondering if she would have to whip out her ID. “Can I help you?” Why didn’t she and Ethan have bodyguards? She never thought about it before. Now would be an awesome time for bodyguards, though.
The man pulled out a pair of handcuffs and came for her.
“What! Excuse you! Mom!’
Luna crossed her legs, arms strewn out across the back of the bench. “You’re doing great, honey!”
“What!” Jasmine tried to scuttle away from the hot dude in a suit, but he had her, and two other men in suits approached, each one hotter than the last. Are you kidding me? The handcuffs were on her, one of the men plucking her purse from her hands and tossing it to Luna.
“You need to come with us, Miss.” The first man, who smelled like cigarettes and Bacardi, turned her toward a black van parked alongside the plaza.
This was either the start of something awesome, or she was legit being kidnapped for the second time in her life! Jasmine had no idea which one was worse.
Chapter 12
The warehouse was large, dark, and smelled like the kind of place Jasmine never wanted to be. Yet when her captors ripped the blindfold off her head, she quickly realized it was…
It was party time.
“Surprise!” Selena jumped off a stool and unveiled a large, glittery, homemade banner that said, “Congrats on getting laid for life!” Jasmine had to smile, because what else could she do in such a situation?
When Selena had come to her weeks ago saying, “Look, I want to throw you a bachelorette party to remember, but I’m gonna need some cash, you know?” Jasmine hadn’t thought twice about handing over thousands of (Ethan’s) dollars to ensure Selena could do whatever she wanted. Of course, Jasmine did not anticipate being fake-kidnapped by hot men in suits and brought to a warehouse.
A party warehouse, but a warehouse nonetheless.
Jasmine had heard of these. Spontaneous parties that could be rented with no questions asked. It looked as if Selena spared no expense throwing Jasmine the bachelorette party of her life.
The warehouse was cordoned off in sections. In one makeshift room was an open bar and buffet – which was good, because Jasmine had yet to eat, and she could definitely use a stiff drink right now – and in another was a dance area complete with disco ball and one of the hottest DJs in the city. For those who had partied too hard, there was a lounge area that was quieter and came complete with massage services – from half-naked men ripped to hell and back and wearing smirks the size of their supposed dicks.
Before she could scope out all of the rooms, Jasmine realized that these men weren’t just hot… they were probably, well, pros. Like the guys down in Miami.
“Did you rent male escorts for the night?” Jasmine asked her friend, as one such man went straight up to Luna and offered her a sizable meal, if she liked German sausage. After laughing so hard that she almost broke her spine, Luna told the guy he was much too young, and her husband wouldn’t approve. Of a guy so young, anyway.
“Duh?” Selena pulled her hair back into a fluffy ponytail. “Why would I hire boring guys? Girl, you don’t have to fuck ‘em. They’re paid for the whole night. They’re here to look great and make you horny.”
“Oh. Well, then.”
Nala stumbled out of the ladies’ room wearing a comfortable jeans and T-shirt combo. Far cry from Jasmine’s red cocktail dress. “There is so much dick in this place, oh my God.”
“Duh! It’s a bachelorette party!” Selena pushed past them to wave down some new guests. Her friends, probably. Jasmine barely knew them.
She barely knew most of the female revelers showing up.
Granted, these strangers were a lot more fun than the type who came to bridal showers. They were college students, working class, or at least part of the secretarial circuit – like Nadia and Amber, who showed up together fifteen minutes after Nala.
“Wow,” they said in unison, as a guy with a huge erection walked by carrying a tray of cocktails. “Either we’re at the wrong party, or the right one.”
“I’ll take one of those,” Amber said, pointing to Mr. Stiffy. “And that one. Oh, somebody triple team me in the corner…”
Jasmine was lost at her own bachelorette party. Not that she wasn’t enjoying the mood and the ambiance, but it was strange feeling like she was in a club where she didn’t know a soul. Sure, the strange women wearing crop tops and too much cheap perfume were more than happy to give her cheers, to say they loved the photo of her bridal shower in the papers, and to congratulate her on marrying one of the hottest, richest men around. Jasmine learned to stop asking names. Not only were there so many strangers, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t see most of these women again anytime soon.
As she had her second cocktail in half an hour – while chowing down at the buffet, of course – Jasmine realized that nobody there, aside from perhaps Nala, came from what could be considered “means.” I thought Selena was inviting some of the others… Leave it to her to “conveniently” forget the likes of any rich bitch who would deign to come to Jasmine’s bachelorette party. The ones who said they were coming probably lied. They were pretty open about the lying that goes on to kiss ass. Jasmine didn’t really care, but it said a lot about the types of people she was marrying into.
“Holy fucking balls, this is a lot of cock!”
More than a few eyes opened wide as Eva barged into the room, her white summer suit offset by the black piping along the edges. No way Givenchy made that… Was Eva branching out to different designers? Maybe Nadia had something to do with it?
Really, more than a few of those cocks were probably up the moment a woman like her strutted through their lines and waved down Jasmine. She must’ve been a woman on a mission – either that or her six-inch Dolce & Gabbana shoes were full of fire ants – because she had left the other darling daughters of high society in her dust.
“Well, she wasn’t kidding,” Kathryn mumbled, already shoved against the wall by a gyrating Latino whose tan may or may not have been real. “I’m kinda scared, though.”
“What was that?” Gwen turned around so quickly that her tote bag nearly slammed into a guy’s ass. Or maybe that had been on purpose. “I can’t hear you over the Rihanna song!”
“Sorry we’re late.” Eva grabbed a complimentary martini off a passing tray. “When we saw ‘that one plaza downtown’ on our notes, it took some trial and error to figure ou
t… there are like… five plazas around your boyfriend’s office alone.”
Her eyes were searching the room while talking to Jasmine. Be subtle, why don’t you? “Thanks for coming. As you can see, it’s a giant dick orgy with lots of booze.”
“Hot. Wait, do you mean the orgy is huge, or the dicks?”
“Both!” Gwen squealed behind her.
“Calm down! You’ve got a boyfriend!”
“He gave me permission to touch all I wanted tonight!”
“You dirty liar.”
“Oh, I’m dirty all right.”
Jasmine was ready to move to another room. Some guy was twirling his dick in his Speedo to Gwen’s great amusement. The girl hadn’t even had a drink yet. “She’s in the other room.” Jasmine nodded to the dance room. “I’m assuming you’re looking for someone.”
“Oh, who? I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
“Dirty liar,” Jasmine mumbled, off to get her first massage of the night. Ethan wouldn’t mind if some hot Puerto Rican with hands straight from God touched her all over her shoulders and back, right? Right.
“You are a miracle worker,” Luna sighed, leaning back in a lounge chair while a young man rubbed her feet. “We could use someone like you on our farm.”
The man kept grinning as Jasmine sat next to her mother. “Enjoying the party?” Someone was right there, tight in his tight-as-tight pants and ready to give her a scalp massage.
“Getting some attention before I go out to watch a ton of young ladies embarrass themselves. That will be fun.”
Jasmine didn’t doubt her mother was 100% serious. “You think there might be too many good looking guys here?”
“Oh, honey, I won’t tell Ethan a thing if you don’t tell your father. Now, where’s that piña colada I ordered?”
***
Things heated up too quickly to keep up with.
One of the last rooms Jasmine had yet to scope out was a “VIP” enclave for the people she personally knew – and the hot men they dragged in to amuse themselves with. To no one’s surprise but Jasmine’s, she was plied with a healthy dose of vodka and shoved down on a couch, where Geraldo the in-a-tux-but-still-pretty-naked wonder thrust his half-erect cock toward her face, set to the delicate sounds of Iggy Azalea rapping about being fancy. Jasmine was tipsy enough by then that she didn’t think twice about grabbing a Benjamin straight from Gwen’s hand and shoving it down this guy’s black thong, sure to take a healthy look at what he was packing. Not bad, but my fiancé’s is bigger.