Can't Get Enough (8 page)

JOLENE GLIDED HER Bentley sedan up the long driveway to the fountain in front of the mansion. It was a 2000 Bentley Arnage with only 37,000 miles on it, and she loved everything about it, from the way it looked to the way it handled. She had spent the entire previous day shopping for this baby and had paid a little over a hundred thousand dollars for it—next to nothing when you had millions.

And fucking-A fabulous it was. The exterior was a rich creamy white, and the Wilton carpets had been made by a British company that produced flooring for royal and presidential palaces. Barbara might have the name Bentley, but
she
had the car.

If only she could find a way to get an American Express Centurion Card, known as “The Black Card.” Now
that
was the epitome of arriving at the top. But she’d heard that it was an invitation-only card, offered to Platinum Card members who spend over a certain six-figure amount on the card each year. Now that she could charge that kind of money on her Platinum Card, she definitely planned to look into how she might finagle an invitation.

She stepped out of the Bentley in her new white Gucci gown and paused in front of the two young black parking attendants for maximum effect. The gown had a V-neck that plunged to her waistline, and she had carefully placed the golden buckle in the shape of a
G
at the end of the vee. Her suede Gucci stilettos were covered with gold mink and had sexy ankle straps and four-inch python heels. Topping it all off was the pièce de résistance: a floorlength Blackglama mink coat. Granted, it was a little warm for a full-length fur, but Jolene couldn’t resist looking like the legend she knew she was.

Jolene noticed the hungry looks on the faces of the parking attendants and she smiled seductively as she dropped her car key into the palm of the one nearest her. Between the Bentley and the boobs, the poor guy was panting like a dog in heat. Jolene’s smile widened with pleasure. It felt good to be back on top.

She lifted her gown as she climbed the stairs to the mansion. It was a pity she had no gentleman to accompany her. She couldn’t possibly have invited Brian to such an elegant affair, and Patrick was coming with Pearl. But if she didn’t have a man, at least now she had moola.

Jolene looked up at the soaring turrets and knew that she would not be able to live quite like this. People who had homes like this didn’t stop at one. They often had other places all over the country or even around the world. Hell, this might not even be this owner’s biggest spread. This kind of living took a lot more than a few million in the bank. But with her lottery winnings, she intended to come as close to this style of living as possible.

Inside, the butler asked for her coat, but Jolene shook her head and waved him off. No way was she handing over a brand-new $20,000 mink coat before anyone had a chance to peep it. Why would she do anything so idiotic?

She followed an older man down a long hallway past beautiful paintings and sculptures. She stopped to check the names of some of the artists as the man stood at the end of hall and waited patiently. She had no idea how much an original piece of art by these artists would set her back but she intended to find out.

Jolene continued on as the man opened the huge double doors. She stepped inside, paused for a moment to take it all in, then discreetly opened and dropped her Gucci bag to the floor. The contents spilled out, and she gasped loudly as the old man scrambled hastily to pick everything up. When the voices died down and all nearby eyes had turned in her direction to see what the commotion was about, Jolene ceremoniously slipped out of her mink coat and held it at arms length to the man.

Nothing like a grand entrance, she thought. She had dreamed of making entrances like this.

Barbara noticed Jolene Brown immediately, even before her little stunt with the dropped evening bag. She had been keeping an eye on the entrance in eager anticipation of the arrival of the host and hostess. But trust Jolene to create a scene as she arrived. And trust the stupid tramp to wear a full-length mink coat on a forty-fivedegree spring evening. Jolene Brown always had to overdo everything. What an ostentatious nut.

And if the rumor that Jolene had just won $10 million in the Maryland lottery was true, then Barbara was certain that more ostentatious nuttiness wound be on display for all of Silver Lake in the weeks and months ahead.

Barbara turned back to Bradford and the lieutenant governor and his wife. As boring as politics was, listening to Bradford discuss budgets and deficits was preferable to being distracted by that foolish woman.

Pearl spotted Jolene as she handed her mink coat to the servant and quickly looked away. Jolene told Patrick that she had won $10 million in the Maryland lottery. Patrick later checked and learned the drawing was for only $5 million, but that was still a lot of money. Pearl was sure that Jolene would be gloating. Maybe she and Patrick would be able to avoid Jolene in this massive ballroom. Pearl certainly hoped so.

To Pearl’s horror she heard Jolene’s voice behind her as soon as she had turned away.

“Hello, Patrick.”

“Hi, Jolene,” Patrick said, smiling at her. “How’s the million-dollar woman?”

Jolene smiled back. “Never better.”

Patrick gestured toward Pearl. “You remember Pearl Jackson, I’m sure.”

Pearl nodded at her stiffly, but Jolene chose to ignore the reintroduction. As far as Jolene was concerned, Patrick’s whore was hardly worth attention, especially when she was wearing a hideously lame little black gown that looked like it had come straight off the rack at Kmart. That is if Kmart even sold formal dresses. She certainly wouldn’t know since she never put a foot anywhere near those discount stores.

She wanted to talk to Patrick privately, away from Pearl’s prying ears. “Patrick, darling, I really need to speak with you about all this money I just won. Can you step away for a minute, please?”

Patrick frowned. “Fine, but can’t you speak to Pearl first? There’s no need to be rude.”

Pearl shook her head and touched Patrick on the arm. “It’s all right. I would expect nothing less from her.”

Jolene inhaled deeply. “At least I don’t look like a walking mannequin for a damn thrift shop.” Fat-ass bitch, she thought.

“That was mean,” Patrick said, shaking his head sadly.

“I’m just being . . .” Jolene paused as a hush came over the crowd, and she glanced in the direction everyone was looking.

The room grew silent as all eyes fastened on the top of the grand staircase opposite the main entrance. The guests awaited eagerly for the next scene to unfold in the months-long drama of the mansion on the hillside.

Barbara stretched her neck upward to see above the crowd and noticed a young woman walking down the second-story hallway, her hand gliding gracefully along the wrought-iron railing. The woman paused at the top of the stairway and smiled down at the guests.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” boomed the voice of yet another male servant at the foot of the stairs, “may I present Baroness Veronique Odette Valentine de Marjolais.”

The woman smiled and descended the stairs slowly in a shimmering strapless red gown that hugged her hourglass figure. She paused when she was about halfway down and stretched out her arms. That’s when Barbara noticed that she wasn’t as young as she had first appeared. In fact, Barbara thought the woman was probably closer to her age. But she had the body of a thirty-year-old and eyes that sparkled so brightly they could be seen clearly even from a great distance. She reminded Barbara of a youthful Tina Turner.

A black baroness, Barbara thought with excitement. Not quite a countess but still very impressive. She glanced up at Bradford and nearly gasped at the startled expression on his face. Barbara looked back toward the baroness. Yes, she was special. Yes, the house was stunning. But why on earth did Bradford look so upset?

“Good evening, everyone,” said Veronique. “And welcome to my home. As your newest neighbor, I’m thrilled to be here in Silver Lake and very anxious to meet you all. Please enjoy yourselves this evening, and let one of my gentlemen know if you need anything at all.”

How about a check for a cool $5 million, Jolene thought, as she watched the baroness elegantly make her way down the rest of the stairs. That would go nicely with the five that she had just won. Hot damn! Royalty living across the street from her.

Jolene’s eyes stayed glued to the baroness as she made her way around the room and introduced herself. She had a smooth brown complexion that had the look of expensive spa treatments, and big round eyes. As beautiful as the baroness was, Jolene would have bet her Blackglama mink that the woman was at least forty, and probably closer to fifty since these rich women always managed to look younger than their actual years. And they should, given that they could afford to spend a fortune keeping up their appearance.

Jolene walked away from Patrick and Pearl and maneuvered through the crowd to get closer to Veronique. An introduction to the baroness was far more important than fussing with her ex- and his whore.

As Veronique glided about the ballroom greeting her guests and Jolene moved in that direction, Pearl said a silent “Amen.” Thank God Jolene was gone, she thought. Now she could focus on the baroness. The first thing she noticed was how rich her honey blond hair color looked. No doubt it was bleached, but the effect with her coppery brown complexion was stunning.

The baroness approached Bradford and Barbara and extended a hand crowned with the biggest emerald-cut diamond ring Barbara had ever seen. Barbara waited for Bradford to offer his hand first, as she always did when they met new people as a couple. But Bradford still had a strange expression on his face, and it seemed that he was going to take an eternity to introduce himself, so Barbara reached out to the baroness.

“Hello. I’m Barbara Bentley,” she said as they shook hands. “And this is my husband, Bradford. We’re pleased to meet you.”

The baroness smiled broadly, exposing a perfect set of pearly white teeth. “Ah, so it is you, Bradford. I thought so. You’ve aged some, but very gracefully I should add.” She turned to Barbara. “And it’s lovely to finally meet your wife.”

Barbara’s jaw nearly dropped to her hemline. She stared at Bradford. He already knew the baroness? How could that be? Never once had he mentioned knowing a baroness, and Barbara thought that would be something a spouse would share at some point during a thirty-year marriage. She wanted to kick the man.

Bradford kissed Veronique on her cheek with studied coolness. Apparently, he had regained his composure, Barbara thought as she waited for him to say something.

“It’s good to see you again, Veronique.” He glanced at Barbara. “And just so you know, dear, Veronique wasn’t a baroness when I knew her several years ago.”

Then what was she, dear, Barbara was tempted to ask.
One of your
mistresses?
She knew her husband’s type, and the baroness more than fit the bill. Barbara bit her tongue.

“I’ve done well since we last crossed paths, Bradford,” Veronique said with a sly smile.

“So I see,” Bradford said. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

“Of course, darling. We’ll talk soon.”

Bradford reached into his inside breast pocket, pulled out one of his business cards, and gave it to Veronique. Barbara stiffened as the baroness snapped a finger and handed the card to one of her servants when he magically appeared at her side. It was looking more and more like there was some shady history between these two. And knowing Bradford, it probably included sex. Dammit. She was having so much fun tonight. Why did Bradford have to go and ruin it for her?

“Thank you, Bradford. And it was lovely to meet you, Barbara.” Veronique blew a kiss in their direction and slid on to the next couple.

Barbara glared at Bradford. “So, do you mind telling me what that was all about? How do you know the baroness?”

Bradford shrugged nonchalantly. “There’s not much to tell. I did some business with her husband down in Atlanta about five years ago. She was simply Veronica Butler back then, married to a man named Guy Butler. I did hear that they divorced. I think Odette is her maiden name.”

Barbara relaxed a bit, but not much. She knew Bradford too well to relax when he had any kind of connection to a beautiful, sophisticated woman.

BARONESS VERONIQUE ODETTE Valentine de Marjolais and Jo
lene Brown quickly became the best of friends and allies. Together, they set out to destroy one snobby family after the other in Silver Lake, starting with the Bentleys. They plotted to ruin Bradford’s business,
then laughed as Barbara and Bradford were forced to sell their mansion and
move to the slums in inner P.G. County.

Then one day, while sipping champagne in Veronique’s salon, the
baroness told Jolene that she’d heard a rumor that Barbara had had her
Louis Vuitton bag snatched as she walked to her car in the hood. Jolene
threw her head back and laughed so hard she nearly spilled her drink all over
her St. John suit.

Jolene jumped and opened her eyes. She blinked. Fuck! She’d woken up in the middle of the best part of her dream about Barbara and Bradford Bentley. What a pity. She sighed, tossed the covers back, and threw her feet over the edge of the bed.

Then she thought about the party at the baroness’s house the night before and smiled as she stretched. She thought about the $5 million she’d won just a few days earlier and her smile grew bigger. What a fabulous week. First she’d won the money. Then she’d shopped all day with no thought to how much she was spending. Finally, she had attended the most glamorous party ever. She had even managed to corner the baroness and talk to her privately for at least fifteen minutes toward the end of the night. That was longer than Veronique seemed to linger with any of her other guests, including the Bentleys.

Jolene found Veronique’s account of how she had met and married European royalty fascinating. The baroness said that she was originally from Atlanta, Georgia, where her first husband had been a successful software developer. They had lived comfortably in a neighborhood similar to Silver Lake until their marriage collapsed.

After the divorce was final, Veronique decided to take an extended vacation to Europe to get away from it all. It was while relaxing in the south of France that she had met Baron Pierre Valentine de Marjolais. He was from a tiny European municipality with a long complex name and he was also on vacation. They fell in love and married within “six short, sweet weeks,” according to the baroness. But recently Veronique had found herself missing America and she had convinced Pierre to build her a small “bungalow” in the States.

Bungalow? Yeah, right, Jolene thought as she poured her first cup of coffee. She had oohed and aahed in all the right places while the baroness regaled her with some of the most fascinating tales Jolene had ever heard. For a while, as she listened to Veronique, she thought seriously of ditching Silver Lake and heading for Europe to find
her own
Prince Charming. But she could never do that as long as Juliette was in school.

At least she and the baroness had hit it off. Jolene thought they had a lot in common. They both had style and lots of flair, unlike the dowdy matrons of Silver Lake such as Barbara Bentley. And she and the baroness both had millions.

Jolene was confident that with just a little work she could make friends with the baroness. And if she was good at anything besides sex, it was “working it.” She would plan a small gathering of her friends who lived outside Silver Lake and invite her new neighbor. Maybe she would eventually get an invitation from Veronique to visit her estate in Europe. Now that would be
something.

She took her coffee cup to the family room and sat at the computer. Thank God she no longer had to go into that crappy office in town, she thought, as she searched the drawers for her good stationery. Fifteen minutes after winning the lottery she had called her boss and quit, refusing to even give the customary two-week notice. Why should she? She didn’t need them any longer and never would again.

Jolene picked up her new sapphire blue Waterman fountain pen, with its 18-karat gold nib and 23-karat gold-plated trim. Now, should the first invitation be for afternoon tea? Jolene shook her head. No, that was too corny. Besides, the baroness was not British royalty.

She would throw a small luncheon on Sunday two weeks from today and hire a caterer to fix an extravagant meal. She would invite Veronique and a few girlfriends, and she’d have the invitations hand-delivered just like Veronique had. Then she would make sure the word got around to Barbara and all the others in Silver Lake who had snubbed her over the past year that the baroness was coming to her house for lunch. And they weren’t.