Just One Taste (Topped #2)(41)

Tiffany was wearing a thin silver collar around her neck that was attached to a rhinestone-studded leash. She laughed and waved off the thought. “It’s only play, D. It’s not like I’m actually a puppy. Gage and I are having some fun. I’m pretty sure that when I start chewing on his leathers I can get him to swat my ass with a rolled up newspaper.”

Sounded like a fun Thursday night. “I don’t know. It kind of freaks me out a little.”

Tiff sighed and leaned against the lockers. “Because you already had one man treat you like shit and you had to watch your mom go through it, too. I, on the other hand, was treated like a princess by Mommy and Daddy and therefore can have a sense of humor about the whole dog thing. Also, growing up my mother always had a Maltese. Seriously, they were all named Gucci and we numbered them. When my mom died, she was buried in a coffin that smelled like Chanel and we had to get special permission to inter the dogs’ ashes with her. The mausoleum my parents want me to one day join them in also houses six Maltese dogs in designer urns. Somewhere in heaven they’re yipping and eating caviar while my mom lunches with Audrey Hepburn.”

Tiffany had an odd life. A sudden thought hit Deena. Tiff adored her father and he came into Top on a regular basis, but she never talked much about her upbringing. Deena only knew it had been privileged. “Tell me you weren’t named for the jewelry store.”

Tiff winced. “Sorry, can’t do it. Have you met my sisters, Burberry and Versace? I got the easy end of that stick.”

“Why are you doing this training class and the internship? You could afford to buy a membership to Sanctum.”

“Number one, I like babies so the idea of paying my way into a membership by watching babies doesn’t bother me at all. I would do that for free. Babies make me happy. My sisters will never have them. Berry says having children would ruin her figure and she’s trying to become a supermodel. I tried to tell her that years of eating like crap already ruined her figure, but she’s an optimist, and V is living in a tent in France because she doesn’t want to leave a footprint on the fragile earth. Her words, not mine. She’ll probably have a ton of kids because she thinks birth control pills will give her cancer, so she counts the days on some weird beaded stick thing. Yeah, those beads aren’t going to stop Frenchie’s sperm, but she thinks she knows better. Number two, I don’t have a lot of money. My dad does. Would he give it to me? In a heartbeat. The trouble is he raised me way too well. He raised me to want to make something of myself. What can I say? I want to make my dad proud and that means working hard. Number three, I want to paint.”

“You can paint without starving.”

“Yes, but what would I paint? What would it mean? The world is a way bigger place than it seems. I want to see it, be a part of it, and I can’t do that if I’m behind some ornate wall designed by Karl Lagerfeld. At the end of the day everyone has it rough. That’s what I’ve figured out. Rich, poor, beautiful, or unattractive we all have something to get through and it always feels like the end of the world. It’s what makes us human.”

She had a point, but still. “Some people have it worse than others.”

“There is always someone who has it worse than you. Always someone who has it better. If you spend your whole life comparing good and bad, you’re going to come up short, D. And you’re going to waste what time you have. My mom had it great. She had money and love and everything a person could ask for, and she also got terminal cancer at the age of forty-six. That was her life, the good and the bad. And when she went, it was in style because my mother knew how to live. While she fought I never once heard her complain or bemoan her fate.”

“Because she knew she had it so good.”

“No, because she wouldn’t waste the time she had on fear and regret.” Tiff reached out and smoothed back Deena’s hair. “So I’m going to go and be a puppy and bark and yip like old Gucci and see if I can have some fun.”

She made it sound so easy. Deena knew she wasn’t talking about the puppy play. Tiffany was talking about Eric. Everyone seemed to talk about Eric around her these days, like they were already some established couple and she needed to run everything by him before making a decision.

She didn’t need a damn man to make a decision for her.

But wouldn’t it be better to have a real partner? Not someone who made decisions for her, but someone who helped her, who stood by her even when she made the wrong move.

“Hey, did you talk to Chef about your test?” Tiffany started to walk toward the door. They were the last two left in the locker room. If they didn’t get their butts in gear, there would be some puppy punishment in their future.

She shook her head. “It’s not his problem. It’s my shift. You’re already working and Ally and Macon have plans that night with his family.”

“What about Jenni?”

“I already asked Jenni. She’s got a concert she’s going to. Sure it doesn’t start until after the restaurant closes, but how is she going to do her hair if she has to work?”

“Selfish bitch. I totally worked a shift for her so she could go on a date. I’ll talk to her. Or punch her in the face. One of the two.”

She did not want to cause a fight. “I’ll make due.”

Tiffany stopped her. “If you don’t pass this test, you don’t graduate.”