Free Paradise Burning by Blair Bancroft Page B

they
can get for free. They go to hookers for what they can’t get at
home. Stick to straight sex and you starve.”
    Since Jade was wearing four-inch heels,
she managed to look down on the tall, thin girl with the high
society clothes and old money face. Who did
the bitch think she was? “I can, and I do,” she
asserted, standing her ground against what she now saw was the
thing she most despised—a woman born to wealth and privilege. A
woman who’d been given it all without having to soil so much as her
little pinkie. Hell, she bet the silly bitch was giving it away to
Mr. Gorgeous. If he liked ‘em lean and lanky.
    Jade’s pale blond hair flew in an arc
as she tossed her head. “Men like uncomplicated, girl. No
courtship, no obligation. I do straight sex two afternoons a week,
That’s all I do, and I make more than any of my frumpy little
neighbors with their you-have-to-wear-a-slip-to-work nine-to-five
jobs.” A smirk crossed Jade’s classically beautiful face as she
added the coup de grâce : “And
I don’t do drugs. I’m saving for my kids’ college
education.”
    Mandy actually felt the rigid lines of
fury in her face dissolving as her quivering balloon of righteous
indignation deflated. Every instinct screamed that Jade was telling
the truth. Mandy had to face the fact that Jade was beautiful
enough men would pay just to be seen with her.
    But if Jade had children, there was probably
a husband. Did he know about his wife’s afternoons as a high-priced
callgirl? Mandy tucked the question away for later.
    “ This really is just lunch and an
interview, Jade,” Peter was saying to the accompaniment of his
book-signing smile. “And, as I promised, at twice your going rate.
No one goes into the bedroom unless you have to powder your
nose.”
    “ Honey,” Jade drawled, giving Peter’s
cheek a little pat before seating herself on the sofa as far from
Mandy as possible, “not even straight sex has to be done in
bed.”
    Once again, the doorbell rang. Mandy felt
Peter’s palpable relief, which matched her own.
    Jade shot to her feet as the new arrival
entered the room.
    “ I don’t do anything—not talking,
eating or fucking—in the same room with some ho off the streets,”
she declared.
     
     

Chapter Five
     
    The newcomer—no more than sixteen or
seventeen, Mandy guessed—struck a pose, slender dark hands
silhouetted against lime green spandex that hugged her hips and
stopped just south of the arrest line. A cloud of black billowed
about a round face slashed with eyeshadow that was too light and
lipstick that was too bright. Shapely legs shone deep chocolate
between the lime green ultra-mini and an elaborate pair of
sparkling white patent leather boots. Mandy realized, with sudden
insight, that the girl had made a special effort to dress for the
occasion.
    The teenager eyed Jade from the tips of her
turquoise pumps to the shining crown of her sun-kissed blond hair.
“Well, sugar, you kin jus’ kiss my black ass,” she drawled,
emphasizing her retort with a sinuous swagger that ended with one
lime green hip cocked defiantly in the older girl’s direction.
    For a moment Peter’s professional aplomb
wavered. “Uh–ladies,” he said brightly, “how about some wine and
cheese?”
    While the women—all three of them—were still
gaping at the absurdity of wine and cheese in this particular
situation, Peter eased Jade back onto the sofa and seated the
newcomer in an easy chair across from Mandy. Hoping there would be
no outbreaks of violence, he bravely turned his back and headed
toward the dining table. When he whisked the napkin off the cheese,
Peter eyed the small cheese knife with some misgiving. Its edges
were not as rounded as he could have wished. He did an interference
run into the dense quiet resonating among the three women, placing
the cheeseboard on the coffee table in front of the sofa, praying
the girls would sample the cheese and not each other.
    “ Chardon . . . uh, white