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This is so like her.
“Gwen!” She stood and waved from the table filled with other women covered in pearls and diamonds on their wrists, necks, and ears.
I almost felt the need to take the cuff earring off the top of my ear before I moved forward.
At the table, she pulled me closer to her, kissing both of my cheeks. “Gwe
n, you look so artistic! Guys, this is my friend, Guinevere Poe, she’s a famous painter.”
Stevie, what happened to you? I smiled at the people she was trying to show off for before sitting down.
“Guinevere Poe?” A woman with long, styled brown hair raised a cosmopolitan to her pink lips. “I’ve heard of you. Stephanie, I didn’t know you were so big into the art scene.”
“Oh gosh, I used to love painting, it’s such a nice hobby.” She laughed loudly, and with such fakeness.
I winced. Nice hobby?
Stevie Spencer—or Stephanie as she seemed to go by now—had come with me from our small town of Cypress, Alaska, to study art at NYU. She, however, had dropped out during her third year after meeting Nathaniel Warren Van Allan, son of something something Richie Rich. We had gotten into a big fight about it, too. I thought she had lost her mind; part of me still did. How could she just throw away everything she'd worked so hard for, just for a guy who to me didn’t understand a thing about her? He looked like such a tool, and I told her so… We didn’t talk to each other for a year after that. Only after I apologized did we try to rebuild our friendship, but it was much harder than even I had thought it would be. She was a whole different person.
Her red hair had always been tied into a braid so she could keep it out of paint. We never spent money on our nails, or even put that much effort into makeup and jewelry…not because there was anything wrong with that, but because it got in the way of our work, and work was everything…or it had been. Now her hair was down and fluffed up, and she wore thick, heavy makeup along with a small fortune’s worth of accessories…including her engagement ring. That's why we were all there: for her bridal shower.
“Now that we are all here.” The same woman who'd spoken before stood up. “Let’s give a toast to the newest member of the Van Allan family. To you, Stephanie, may your life be filled with splendor. I’m so glad you and I are the best of friends, you truly are the sweetest.”
“Here, here.” We all raised our glasses.
“Aww, thanks you guys! And thank you so much, Josephine, for putting this together. You are amazing.” Stevie laughed, giving everyone small, one-arm hugs.
“Of course! Who else would do it?”
For some reason I felt like her words were directed at me, even though I had no idea why.
“Excuse us, ladies.” A server came over with three bottles of wine.
“We didn’t order this,” Josephine said in confusion.
“1920 Blandy's Madeira Bual, sent from Mr. Van Allan. He hopes you ladies have a beautiful evening,” the server said, placing the black bottles on the table.
“Oh my gosh,” the ladies whispered.
Stevie looked like she was going to cry.
Leaning over, I put my arm around her and whispered, “You’ll ruin your makeup if you cry, Stevie. If Nathaniel hears you cried over a glass of wine, he’s going to think he did something wrong.”
She laughed and nodded. “I know! But he’s just so sweet.”
The ladies giggled. “Nothing says love like twenty thousand dollar wine.”
“Twenty thousand? Dollars?” I gasped, looking at the deep red liquid in my hand. “I feel like it should at least come with a gift or something, for that price.”
Stevie let out a small laugh next to me, but she was the only one.
The others just raised their eyebrows at me.
“The gift is the taste.” Josephine smiled at me. “Ms. Poe, believe me when I say you will never forget your first glass of Bual.”
“With that price, I can’t afford to,” I whispered to Stevie.
She elbowed me, one hand over her lips to hide a smile.
