Read Online WORTHY, Part 2 by Lexie Ray - Free Book Online
Authors: Lexie Ray
Tags: Romance, Literature & Fiction, Contemporary, Sagas, Short Stories, Contemporary Fiction, Contemporary Women, Women's Fiction, New Adult & College
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terribly, the taste pervading my mouth and nostrils.
“Suck that lime!” Jane yelled at me. “If you puke that up, I’m going to make you take another one!”
I did as she told me, putting all of the fruit’s flesh in my mouth and sucking for all I was worth. I buried my teeth to the hilt in the sour pulp, and to my surprise, it worked. The sharp citrus banished the disgusting taste of the tequila and soothed my upset stomach. I smiled at Jane, the green rind masking my teeth, and she cackled as she snapped more pictures.
“I’ll make a tequila drinker out of you yet,” she said. “Now, let’s go. The car’s been waiting for us for hours.”
“For hours?” I repeated. “Damn. We should’ve hurried.”
We replaced our glasses on the bar, and Lucy took them to wash.
“Thanks for everything, Lucy,” I said, my words a little slow. I had to really focus on forming them in my mouth. “The drinks were really delicious.”
“Just doing my job, Miss Michelle,” she said briskly, looking down.
“But I really appreciate it,” I insisted, putting my hand over hers. “Really. I appreciate you so much. You’re my friend. It’s been really good to see you around again. I missed you while you were gone, and I’m sorry that happened.”
“Please, it’s fine,” Lucy said, withdrawing her hand quickly. “You need to be going.”
“Michelle,” Jane groaned. “You’re so embarrassing. Stop fraternizing!”
“Stop what?” I asked, confused. “I’m just thanking Lucy for everything.”
“Her paycheck thanks her for everything,” Jane said, shaking her head. “Now, come on.”
Feeling a little stupid and confused, I grabbed my wristlet, made sure my phone and credit cards were inside, and followed Jane. Even though there weren’t many steps to manage from her floor, we still took the elevator in consideration of the mile high shoes we both tottered in.
“I don’t understand what’s so bad about talking to Lucy,” I complained as Jane typed away at her phone. “She’s my friend. She helps me out.”
“No one who’s paid to be help you is your friend,” Jane said. “Lucy’s the help and that’s that. You don’t fraternize with them. That’s the first lesson my mother taught me.”
“What, by telling you not to?” I asked skeptically. Jane pretty much did whatever she wanted to do, I was discovering.
“No,” Jane said, not looking up. “By firing my nanny — the woman who raised me.”
“I’m sorry,” I gasped. “That must’ve been terrible.”
Jane shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”
When we made it out to the car — we had to hold onto each other for support, weaving a little alarmingly — I was surprised to see Brock already inside.
“Well, I was going to yell at you two for holding up the party, but I can see now that the end result was completely worth the wait,” he said, kissing both of our hands. “Ladies, it is a genuine pleasure. You look amazing, both of you.”
His eyes lingered overlong on my legs, and I remembered to yank the hem of the dress down. Jane did no such thing, sliding into the car almost obscenely.
“Tell me you haven’t been waiting for us for hours,” I said worriedly. “I’d feel terrible.”
“I’m sure you would,” Brock said sarcastically. “All women love to keep men waiting, Mrs. Wharton. Especially you Whartons.”
“Ugh, don’t call her Mrs. Wharton,” Jane groaned as the car took off. “You’ll remind me of my mother.”
“Amelia going clubbing,” he chuckled. “Can you imagine it?”
“No,” I said, my eyes widening. “No, I really can’t.”
“Oh, my mother parties,” Jane said. “She just doesn’t call it that. It’s all social function this and that and benefit this and that. Those old birds down wine and mimosas like it’s nothing but water. Where do you think I got my
“Suck that lime!” Jane yelled at me. “If you puke that up, I’m going to make you take another one!”
I did as she told me, putting all of the fruit’s flesh in my mouth and sucking for all I was worth. I buried my teeth to the hilt in the sour pulp, and to my surprise, it worked. The sharp citrus banished the disgusting taste of the tequila and soothed my upset stomach. I smiled at Jane, the green rind masking my teeth, and she cackled as she snapped more pictures.
“I’ll make a tequila drinker out of you yet,” she said. “Now, let’s go. The car’s been waiting for us for hours.”
“For hours?” I repeated. “Damn. We should’ve hurried.”
We replaced our glasses on the bar, and Lucy took them to wash.
“Thanks for everything, Lucy,” I said, my words a little slow. I had to really focus on forming them in my mouth. “The drinks were really delicious.”
“Just doing my job, Miss Michelle,” she said briskly, looking down.
“But I really appreciate it,” I insisted, putting my hand over hers. “Really. I appreciate you so much. You’re my friend. It’s been really good to see you around again. I missed you while you were gone, and I’m sorry that happened.”
“Please, it’s fine,” Lucy said, withdrawing her hand quickly. “You need to be going.”
“Michelle,” Jane groaned. “You’re so embarrassing. Stop fraternizing!”
“Stop what?” I asked, confused. “I’m just thanking Lucy for everything.”
“Her paycheck thanks her for everything,” Jane said, shaking her head. “Now, come on.”
Feeling a little stupid and confused, I grabbed my wristlet, made sure my phone and credit cards were inside, and followed Jane. Even though there weren’t many steps to manage from her floor, we still took the elevator in consideration of the mile high shoes we both tottered in.
“I don’t understand what’s so bad about talking to Lucy,” I complained as Jane typed away at her phone. “She’s my friend. She helps me out.”
“No one who’s paid to be help you is your friend,” Jane said. “Lucy’s the help and that’s that. You don’t fraternize with them. That’s the first lesson my mother taught me.”
“What, by telling you not to?” I asked skeptically. Jane pretty much did whatever she wanted to do, I was discovering.
“No,” Jane said, not looking up. “By firing my nanny — the woman who raised me.”
“I’m sorry,” I gasped. “That must’ve been terrible.”
Jane shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”
When we made it out to the car — we had to hold onto each other for support, weaving a little alarmingly — I was surprised to see Brock already inside.
“Well, I was going to yell at you two for holding up the party, but I can see now that the end result was completely worth the wait,” he said, kissing both of our hands. “Ladies, it is a genuine pleasure. You look amazing, both of you.”
His eyes lingered overlong on my legs, and I remembered to yank the hem of the dress down. Jane did no such thing, sliding into the car almost obscenely.
“Tell me you haven’t been waiting for us for hours,” I said worriedly. “I’d feel terrible.”
“I’m sure you would,” Brock said sarcastically. “All women love to keep men waiting, Mrs. Wharton. Especially you Whartons.”
“Ugh, don’t call her Mrs. Wharton,” Jane groaned as the car took off. “You’ll remind me of my mother.”
“Amelia going clubbing,” he chuckled. “Can you imagine it?”
“No,” I said, my eyes widening. “No, I really can’t.”
“Oh, my mother parties,” Jane said. “She just doesn’t call it that. It’s all social function this and that and benefit this and that. Those old birds down wine and mimosas like it’s nothing but water. Where do you think I got my
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