Grounded (Up in the Air #3)(18)

“Eight.” She shrugged again. “Maybe I will, sometime. I do miss it. Your turn. Tell me about you and James.”

I glanced around, making sure we had privacy. I leaned towards her. “He’s into BDSM. Well, we are into it, actually.”

She smiled wryly, not looking in the least surprised.

“You knew?”

“Not firsthand, but Jules tried to tell me about that once, when she thought he and I were dating. She was trying to scare me off. Have you noticed that all of the really pretty men always have a thing? Women are just too easy for them, I think, so they always seem to develop…quirks, yanno?”

I laughed, because I loved her take on it, and the fact that it didn’t faze her a bit. “No, I don’t know. I only know James, and he and I share…quirks.”

She shrugged. “I have a thing for giant Hawaiian men who look like ripped pro-wrestlers, and are covered in tattoos.”

“Men? So this is a pattern for you?” I asked, genuinely curious.

She wrinkled her nose, those violet eyes sparkling. “Just Akira.”

She looked at something behind my shoulder. “Oh, lord, here comes Jackie.” She caught my expression. “You don’t like her?”

I gave my little shrug. “Not so far.”

Lana waved an elegant hand towards the woman. “It’s a fact that she’s more than half-crazy. Did you know that she actually thinks that shopping is a legitimate job? But she’s very funny when you get to know her. She’s just rough around the edges, that’s all.”

I would have taken nice over funny any day, but I held my tongue.

Jackie approached us with her no-nonsense little walk, wearing smartly tailored, cuffed shorts, and an almost severely modest collared shirt. The whole ensemble was pea-green, a color that worked with her complexion, but that I didn’t think would work for many. Her cute legs, and her nude stilettos with red soles, kept the outfit from being too conservative.

Jackie was looking at my lap as though I had something disgusting growing there.

I looked down at the cream bag she had picked out the day before.

“Twice in a row with the same bag, Bianca? You have a closet full of bags! Are you trying to embarrass me?”

Lana tutted at her rather affectionately. “Looks like you’re doing that all on your own, Jackie. Chill out. It’s a bag. A lovely bag. Go away if you aren’t here to be nice.”

Jackie looked surprised but not at all offended. “You aren’t going to invite me to join you for lunch?”

Lana shook her head. “Nope. What are you up to?”

Jackie shrugged. “I come here all the time. It’s a good place to be seen. I wanted to discuss some things with Bianca.”

“Nope. Are you stalking her?”

“Noooo. I just need a minute.”

“Then make an appointment,” Lana said with a sweet smile.

“What do you want, Jackie?” I asked, trying to make my tone bland rather than hostile.

She reached into her own monstrosity of a bag. It was pea-green leather with a big red stripe down the side. She pulled out a small piece of paper, brandishing it like a weapon. “I have a list of functions that you need to attend. Mostly luncheons.”

I sighed, waving at one of the empty chairs at our table. “Sit down and tell me what you’re talking about, Jackie.”

She sat and started in, as if she had rehearsed the whole spiel. “As the significant other of a powerful and influential man in this town, you have some new obligations. You’ll be expected to attend lunches and brunches, and tea parties, nearly every day of the week.”

I felt my face stiffening the more she spoke.

”Being with James is a full-time job. I’m willing to show you the ropes, since you can’t possibly understand what all of this entails—“

“I have a job,” I interrupted her. “I’m not looking for another one. I have no wish to go to functions with a bunch of strange women every day.”

She let out a very put-upon sigh. “I was afraid you’d say that. You can’t possibly comprehend the kind of responsibilities that James and I have had to own since our childhoods—“

I laughed in her face, my extremely rare temper rearing its very ugly head, the words she’d chosen setting me off. “Responsibility? You are going to lecture me about responsibility? I have had to care for myself since I was a child. You probably still live off your parents’ wealth,” I guessed. I saw by her expression that I was right. “Don’t you dare speak a word to me about responsibility!”

I instantly regretted losing my cool, but I didn’t take anything I’d said back. It was nothing but the truth, if an indelicate one.

“I didn’t mean to upset you again,” she said carefully. “I know you don’t like me. And I know you think I don’t like you, but that’s a nonissue to me. I’m trying to help you.”

I raised a hand. “Don’t. Don’t try to help me. Don’t try to tell me what I need to do with my time.”

She sighed that put-upon sigh of hers. “Fine, I’ll go, but let me know if you reconsider.”

I looked at Lana after she’d left. “What’s with her?”

Lana shook her head. “She’s an odd one, so I can’t say for sure, but I’m guessing it’s half self-promotion, since she could claim to dress you for all of the functions she’s plotting. The other half would be that she actually thinks she’s trying to help you, in her own misguided way. My advice would be to challenge her. Her personality demands it. Give her some arbitrary conditions to being your dresser.” She snapped her fingers as though an idea had struck her. “I know. Tell her you only want to wear clothes from up-and-coming fashion designers. Insist that you won’t wear anything else. That will drive her crazy, but she’s perverse enough that she’ll enjoy it.”