Hard to Please Page 2

  “Where did you get that?” Jasmine unwrapped the plastic cutlery that came with their order. That was when Nadia remembered she carried reusable forks and spoons for these occasions. The plastic ones would go into the emergency drawer in the staff room’s kitchen. “It’s vintage, right? Chanel? Oh, no, wait. Versace!”

  Jasmine wasn’t exactly the best at playing Name That Designer, but Nadia never held it against her. There were more important things in life than knowing the difference between Dolce & Gabbana and Gucci. This was a woman who, after all, rushed into the Kate Spade boutique before anywhere else. Others may have made fun of her for it, but Nadia never would.

  “Dior,” Nadia said. “Yeah, it’s vintage, I guess. Got it online from one of those clothing trade sites. Real steal. Retail value was three grand, but I got it for about 800 before shipping.”

  Jasmine let out a low whistle. “Is that with your girlfriend’s money, or your own now that you get to save all of it?”

  That was meant as a joke, but Nadia didn’t find it funny. “Mine, I guess.” It was true, though, that she saved more money than ever now that Eva paid for everything, including their rent. She bought the food. Paid for the utilities. “Treated” Nadia to every vacation and date they went on, since oftentimes Nadia had no idea where the hell they were going until they got there. Although it took a while for Nadia to get used to, she couldn’t tell the exact moment when having her rich girlfriend pay for everything became normal. An everyday occurrence. The kind of thing she took for granted, like she took Jasmine treating her to these expensive lunches for granted.

  On the other hand, it meant Nadia could plan for that rainy day that felt so inevitable. A possible “post-Eva” life that could come tomorrow or ten years from now. She took a third of her paychecks and put them into investments. Another third went into a retirement account. That meant the other third accumulated in her savings account, which she occasionally dipped into when she ate out on her own or decided to go shopping without any of Eva’s cards in her wallet. I seriously have one of her big credit cards in my wallet. At all times. Eva never told her the spending limit. She merely called it the “fun and emergency funds.” That meant nothing!

  Sure, yeah, Nadia no longer thought twice about using it to pay for gas or her hair stylist. The only time the money in her hands was truly hers was when she pulled cash from the ATM.

  In a way, that vintage Dior dress that had sold for three grand a few years ago was paid for by Eva’s money. It may have come out of Nadia’s account, but only because Eva paid for everything else so she could afford it.

  “Yo, Nads, the hell is going on over there? You keep zoning out.”

  Nadia’s spoon splashed into her cup of soup. “I’m sorry. I keep spacing out and dozing off because Eva kept me up all night.”

  “Oh?” Jasmine waggled her brows and ran her spoon down her tongue. Was that supposed to be flirtatious? Anticipatory? “She polish your pearl for three hours past your bedtime? That always does it for me. I hear she’s all about those precious gems now.”

  I wish. Nadia always felt the most in love when Eva got around to polishing pearls. Which was every night, if Eva had her way. “No. She came home really late drunk off her ass. I had to clean her up and put her to bed, then she proceeded to snore forever.”

  Jasmine shook her head, spoon scraping against her cup. “Welcome to the domestic life, I guess. Although I don’t deal with a drunk partner as often as you do.”

  She made it sound like Eva was an alcoholic. No, but I could see her becoming one if things really went south in her life. “She was supposed to contact me at eight. Came stumbling through the door at midnight, acting like she had completely lost track of time. She was so drunk she couldn’t drive, and now she’s having her Jaguar delivered God knows where.”

  “At least she wasn’t driving drunk?”

  “That’s not the point. Do you know how worried I was about her?”

  Although Jasmine nodded with sympathy in her eyes, Nadia knew it wasn’t the same. She knew how “boring” Mr. Cole was. Before Jasmine came along, he was a serial monogamist, yeah, but he still didn’t party. The man was a real introvert. Since getting with Jasmine – who was once his assistant, Nadia could never forget – he became so domestically placated that it was a wonder they didn’t have three toddlers underfoot. So far, though, they were still childless.

  “You ever get so worried about your husband that you were furious when he finally showed up?”

  “Not as often now as when we first moved in together…” Jasmine blushed. “Sorry. You know how straight-edge and boring he is. His idea of a wild night is going to the club, having a drink, and going home early.”

  “I have a feeling that Eva was at the ‘club’ last night.” Neither of them had to say which one they meant by name. That was a given. There was only one club for the wealthy in the whole city that could touch on the tastes of Ms. Warren and Mr. Cole. That would be The Dark Hour, the most exclusive BDSM-themed lounge around. Mr. Cole didn’t go that often, both before and after Jasmine entered the picture, but Eva had been a regular for as long as Nadia knew her. She often went to simply hang out with friends and “enjoy the show,” as she put it. It’s a fucking sex club. You know what’s happening there. So many of their arguments early on in their relationship had to do with that stupid club. Eva wanted Nadia to go with her, at least on ladies’ nights when no other guys were around. Nadia preferred neither of them ever went. Part of being with Eva was accepting that a place where people went to have kinky sex was such a part of her social life that asking her to abstain from the occasional visit was like asking most people to stop going to the corner bar on game night. Nadia’s ability to curb her jealousy after Eva swore upon every holy book that she never, ever touched anyone but Nadia was a miracle. Nadia’s trust extended as far as Eva kept her coming-and-going to herself. If she went to The Dark Hour, she didn’t announce it. Only that she was going out with friends for drinks.

  Nadia tolerated it, but she didn’t understand it.

  “Oh?” Jasmine said. “Was there something going on there?”

  “Birthday party of a friend’s, I guess.” Nadia knocked back the orange juice that came with her lunch. Wish this were a mimosa. I need one. “You know how it is when a bunch of those heiresses get together. Drinking and toking and God knows what else.”

  “Yeaaah. That’s why I avoid them,” Jasmine said. “Once the cocaine comes out of the bags, I am out.”

  Nadia shuddered. It was bad enough some of the office’s guests came in with “the sniffles” as everyone politely called it. Cocaine abuse was so rampant among the city’s elite that it was always some weird sob story when one decided to finally kick the habit and go to rehab for a few months. Then they’re back on it again as soon as they get out. One of the biggest offenders, however, had managed to keep her former habit out of the public for so long that it was a big scandal earlier that year when pictures of her using – and doing more, ugh – came out.

  “Luckily, Eva doesn’t do that. I would know.” Nadia pushed aside her empty containers. “She finds other ways to drive me nuts.”

  Footsteps approached them from behind. Jasmine whipped her head around, but Nadia recognized those heels from anywhere. Quick. Hurried. Have places to go and people to boss around while being an insecure dumbass. Yup. Sounded like Adrienne Thomas, Mr. Cole’s business partner and one of many thorns in Nadia and Jasmine’s sides.

  “There you are, dear!” That was directed at Nadia, who only looked at Adrienne in her lacy black dress because it was the polite thing to do. “Been looking all over for you. Need to give you a heads up that Ethan called and needs me to come down to the meeting for support. Apparently, this new investor is really breaking his balls over the terms, and he needs sweet and sophisticated me to break some other balls.” That smile was always so damn pleased with itself. “That means we’ll both be out for the rest of the day. You might as well head out early once
the office is secured. Get a jump on the weekend while the rest of us work through it.”

  Dare Nadia roll her eyes? You act like you don’t enjoy it, Adrienne. Busting, breaking, and bashing balls were Adrienne’s favorite past times. “Sounds good. Means I can get to bed early tonight and catch up on some sleep.”

  “By the way, is that Dior?” Adrienne gestured to her fashionable black dress. “Twinsies!”

  Of course Adrienne recognized vintage Dior. She loved Dior as much as Eva had a VIP pass to everything Givenchy and her best friend Kathryn Alison liked to cry into the pockets of a brand-new Chanel bag. Seemed like every spoiled princess had their favorite designer who made up half their closet.

  “What if I told you,” Adrienne continued, “that I received my platinum membership for Dior?” Her pearly-white teeth were faker than the nails on her hands. “First looks and first dibs on every collection months in advance. I get to bring a guest to the first show in a couple of weeks. Let me know if either of you want in.”

  Jasmine and Nadia glanced at one another. For a woman who had derided everyone in town for their fashionable affections, she could only think of how she and Jasmine would duke this out over the next two weeks. With any luck, Jasmine would go down quietly. It was the least she could do for Nadia, who still technically lived in a class below her friend.

  “Oh, darling, you have such serious bags beneath your eyes! It really doesn’t go with the Dior.” Adrienne put a concerned hand on Nadia’s shoulder. “Please get more sleep. Or I could recommend my cosmetologist to you. She does amazing work with hiding those bags with only a swoop of the hair!”

  “Sorry, ma’am.” Nadia called her that both in and out of the office. Like how she never referred to Mr. Cole by his first name. Old habits die hard. Some I refuse to let die. Drove everyone around her absolutely nuts. “Eva went to this party at the club last night and…”

  “Viola Kramer’s party?” Adrienne giggled. “Oh, Amber and I popped in for an appearance last night! Place was already hopping when we got in at eight and left by eight-thirty. Didn’t see Eva, though. But I did see all the dancing women who were so drunk they were falling over! Can you two believe it? Such a spectacle.”

  “Yeah, I can believe it,” Nadia muttered.

  “Get some sleep this weekend so you can be bright and fresh Monday morning, hm?” To Jasmine, Adrienne curtly said, “Have a nice day, Jasmine. I’ll say hi to Ethan for you as I save his ass… and our business’s, I suppose.”

  They waited for Adrienne to leave before doubling over in laughter. If nothing else, Nadia could be grateful that she didn’t have to deal with that for a girlfriend! Her patience truly only stretched so far.

  Chapter 2

  There wasn’t enough ibuprofen in her desk drawer to keep Eva alert. How many milligrams did she pop before noon? By two? By three? Her stomach lining was screaming bloody murder by the time she put the bottle away again. A hair of the dog hadn’t cured her hangover, however, and by lunchtime she asked her assistant to bring her a lite beer in the dire hope that it would do something to curb the throbbing pain in her head.

  I did not drink that much last night… To be fair, everything between the first shot and sitting in her shower at home was a giant blur. She had awoken that morning to more than a hurting head. Her pants from the night before were ripped in one of their seams. Her bra had lost some of its padding. What the hell had she been doing at Viola’s birthday party? Breakdancing?

  Hmph. The image of her breakdancing conjured warnings for everyone to steer clear of her swinging limbs. Assuming she could “dance” for more than two seconds without throwing out her back. Did that account for the pain throbbing through her body? No? Whatever.

  “Tell me, David.” She said that when her assistant, a young, spry man named David Harrison entered her office. The man knew his way around a spreadsheet like he knew the difference between a ruby and a red spinel. Hell, he was better at both than Eva, who simply made her living overseeing the family’s mines and gemstone sales. “How old were you when you realized you couldn’t drink as much as you used to? Because I swear I didn’t have more than four shots last night, yet here I am, crying into a lite beer.”

  His no-nonsense demeanor often straggled the line between serious and sarcastic. Much like a trained gemologist could tell her the worth of a diamond within two seconds of glancing at it. If they can’t, I’ll find one who can. Then again, Eva was a fan of paying for experts to get things right the first time.

  “I’ve never been much of a drinker, Ms. Warren.” David flipped through the binder he brought into his boss’s office. Within the laminated pages was a thorough catalog of every gemstone of a certain size that had been bought, sold, or traded through Warren Stones. (Eva hadn’t picked the name, unfortunately. If it had been up to her, the company she spearheaded would’ve been called Warren Rubies & More. Because she loved the color red as much as she loved her girlfriend’s ass.) “Pardon my intrusion, but if you may remember, I mentioned earlier that there has been a small snafu with a large ruby you recently traded with Robert & Co.”

  “Excuse me?” Eva’s eyes widened, taking in more light than they had all morning. “Please tell me you’re kidding. What is wrong with that thing? Not up to Roberts’s standards?”

  “You might say that. If you would kindly check your overnight messages, he and his jeweler are under the impression that you have sold him a red spinel instead of a ruby.”

  The binder touched Eva’s desk. She grabbed an Aspirin this time.

  “Which mine is it from?” Eva asked. “Because we have a red spinel mine in Nepal.” And other places, but the Nepalese mine was the most abundant. It helped that Eva had personally visited it a few months ago and ensured that the working conditions were such that the employees were satisfactorily rewarded for their hard yet dangerous work. “Don’t tell me we sold him one of those.”

  “Afraid not, ma’am.” David pointed to the gemstone in question. In the studio photograph, it looked like any other ruby Warren Stones might bring out of their abundant Cambodian mines. She sucked her breath through her teeth and considered calling her lawyer. Instead, she might call the head gemologist under her employ, a Mr. Rufus Cameron, who was possibly older than Eva’s own father. “This supposed ruby was cataloged from the Cambodian mine near Pailin.”

  “We only have ruby mines near Pailin, so that’s good to know.” Also good to know? That Eva still had her dry wit that early in a hungover morning. “You’re trying to tell me that Roberts’ gemologist is telling him we sold him a spinel under the guise of a ruby? Why, that wouldn’t ruin our reputation at all, especially considering how much this one was supposedly worth.” She had to get out her glasses to read the fine print in the catalog, but those were a lot of zeros behind the number seven.

  “It would not be good, no.” David folded his hands behind his back. His rigid posture amused Eva on good days. Today was not a good day, and she remained unamused. “I took it upon myself to phone Mr. Cameron and have him come in on his day off.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I assumed you should like this taken care of and sorted out immediately, Ms. Warren.”

  Eva sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We’ll have to bring in an outside source that is agreeable to both ourselves and Roberts. Otherwise, he’ll think we’re pulling the wool over his eyes, and the last thing we need this early in our fledgling existence is a mark like this against us.” She hoped to God that hunk of rock was a genuine ruby. They traded it wholesale and uncut to Roberts, who planned to have it made into a tiara as a fortieth wedding anniversary present to his wife. Fine thing if they pulled a Dark Prince and passed a crown with red spinel down their genetic line. The Warrens had already lucked out when they purchased the remaining ruby mine in Pailin that had any true sustenance. We can thank civil wars going back decades for that. While the surrounding mines were cleaned out, one family had managed to hang on to a humble littl
e mine that was later bought out by the family that turned around and sold it to the Warrens. It was one of their biggest mines, outside of the Thai and Nepalese mines.

  Losing it would set back Warren Stones farther than where it had begun. Would be on my head, too. She had only been officially in charge for a year and a half, after graduating from business school and taking an intensive crash course into gemology and mining ethics with Mr. Rufus Cameron. Eva couldn’t yet eyeball things like many of her employees did, but that’s why she paid them their fair wage to keep her in the black.

  “Thanks for bringing this to my attention… again.” Eva closed the binder and shoved it back in David’s direction. “I’ll call Roberts as soon as I shake this atrocious headache.”

  “There is one other thing, ma’am.”

  Eva squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. “What?”

  “Someone is waiting to see you. Someone who tells me you absolutely want to see her.”

  Nadia? That was the first thing to perk Eva up that angry Friday morning. Speaking of angry, can we talk about how good she looks in red? Whether it was the bright red of her hair or the flush of her cheeks when she was about to chew Eva out for something that was, unfortunately, her fault, she was more beautiful than the stars twinkling in the Cambodian skies. I’ve seen them, you know. And the Nepalese stars. Thai stars. Siberian stars. The stars of the Andes and the Alps… Clear, gorgeous skies that twinkled without fear of blotting. Yet their beauty paled before the curvy redhead finally warming Eva’s bed. Our bed, thank you very much. Oh, yes, it had become their bed when they finally moved in together a year ago. Sometimes Eva still couldn’t believe it took two years to convince Nadia to go through with it. She made Eva pick an apartment “with as much square footage as the house I rent in Savant’s Town.” Because she swore they would need that much space to keep each other from going insane.