The Rich Girls' Club (16 page)

T
he first set of commercials for Brooks’s campaign were ready for the Rich Girls to preview at today’s meeting. There were fifteen-, thirty-, and sixty-second spots slated to air on every major network between seven a.m. and ten p.m. The champagne was on ice to celebrate their overall accomplishments to date.

Morgan left the clubroom and stood in the foyer. She stared up at the painting of her standing by her husband’s side at the altar.
Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband
…she still did. Regardless of what Magnum had done, she couldn’t all of a sudden stop loving the man she’d married. Her heart never wanted to stop loving him. But he’d definitely made the biggest mistake of their relationship. Magnum was at the spa, where he’d stayed for the past week.

Magnum was disgusted with Brooks entering the race but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about that. Obviously he wasn’t fed up enough to stop fucking Brooks but if he knew his wife had almost had sexual intercourse with Bailey Goodman at the spa, he’d probably quit working for her and file for divorce the same day.

Men were like that. Accepting of their own infidelity, minimizing or denying the significance of their cheating as though it were natural behavior. But most men were unforgiving if they discovered their woman was guilty of even thinking about fucking another man.

Exhaling, she shook her head. He had been exceptionally handsome on their wedding day. The artist was so talented he’d captured everything, not just Magnum dressed in his custom-made black tuxedo, crisp white shirt, and bowtie, but even the love in her husband’s eyes. Morgan gazed into them trying to rekindle the love, and relive the moment.

I needed this reminder. I ain’t fooling nobody, not even myself. I love that man.

Undressing him with her imagination, she craved to have his dark chocolate flesh inside her. She shook her head again, exhaled, suppressed her rising libido.
Stay focused.

The things he could control, like sticking his dick inside another woman, was what she needed to address. But how could she? Morgan was pissed off that Magnum wouldn’t admit he was fucking Brooks.

Determined not to fail at what was her brainchild, Morgan would remain professional and be on her best behavior when Brooks arrived. Brooks would win the election. Morgan would run the state of California from a backseat. There’d be no asking her friend to stay afterward to take the edge off. If she sexed Brooks today, Brooks would have the upper hand. When the meeting was over, Brooks was being escorted out the front door, along with Storm and Hope.

Hope had called a few days ago, saying she’d found something significant, and insisted on revealing her findings to the group. Whatever it was about, Morgan was sure it couldn’t compare to Brooks having an affair with Magnum. And that little hiccup of Hope finding out that Morgan and Brooks were lovers was insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

Morgan went to the kitchen. “Bo, it sure smells good in here. You can set up the food now. Thanks.”

“Will you be needing my
services
after the meeting?” he asked.

“It’s too soon to tell. I’ll let you know,” Morgan said, walking away. Her sexing Bo later depended on her energy and attitude after the meeting.

Morgan opened her front door before the bell chimed. “Come in, ladies. Hello, Hope. Hey, Storm. Brooks.”

She didn’t intend to give Brooks more than a lukewarm greeting. She’d thought she could conceal her emotions. Pretend that what had happened didn’t matter. Obviously it did. But she’d have to try to push through it or else one of the other girls would have to accompany Brooks in public. No. Morgan couldn’t allow that. She had to stay closest to her enemy/friend, in that order.

“I need somebody new to do,” Storm said. “Because the mayor is becoming boring since we’ve implemented our plan.”

“You can have Laura,” Hope said. “She’ll annoy the hell out of you because there is nothing, I mean nothing, exciting about that woman. I just don’t know what to do with her.”

Morgan chimed in, “She’s her own opponent. If she were the only one running, she’d still lose. Let’s start with an update from Storm on Randall, then the videos, then we’ll give Hope the floor, and last, I have a surprise announcement.”

Brooks stared at Morgan. Her eyes widened before she said, “Hope was a tremendous help. I now have all of my documents on this,” she patted her iPad. “Thanks again, Hope.”

“No problem, honey. That’s what I’m here for. To assist you.”

Brooks tossed her computer on a chaise, then headed to the mimosa and Bloody Mary bar. She poured champagne, drank the entire glass, then refilled before walking away.

“Girl, we need to start with what’s on your mind,” Storm said.

Brooks’s eyes slightly rolled upward. “I’m good. Let’s get started. I have to tend to my coffee shop for a few hours today.”

“Well, my meeting with Randall went well for me. He’s pissed but now he realizes how bad he fucked up and there’s nothing he can do about it,” Storm said, smiling.

“Let’s not underestimate him,” Hope advised. “Believe me, he’s plotting something. They’ll all seek revenge and we have to stay prepared until every male opponent is caught with their dick in their hands.”

Morgan pressed play on the remote. The first commercial ran fifteen seconds.

California needs a governor that will run this state like a successful business, balance the budget…tax those who can afford it, and give tax credits to those who need it. I’m that person. Vote for me. Brooks Kennedy for governor.

The emphasis in Brooks’s name was always on Kennedy. A name that people could not only easily remember but also associate with “good.” Brooks’s crisp, clean look—flawless toasty skin, full attractive lips, large white teeth, wide trusting smile, and sparkling brown eyes appeared genuine. And in politics, for the undecided, image won votes, and every vote counted.

“I like this one,” Storm said. “You look perfect. Sound great. Not contrived. Very natural.”

The next two commercials ran uninterrupted. Morgan powered off the television. “Now that we’ve got that part covered, Hope, you’ve got the floor.”

Brooks interrupted. “No discussion about the commercials? No replay?”

Morgan firmly said, “We can recap at the end. Hope, what do you have to share?”

“I’ll get right to the point,” Hope said, handing each of them a piece of paper. “Brooks, I came across this license while organizing your files. You need to explain…in detail.”

S
ix months to Election Day and she had to explain what?

Hope didn’t just happen to come across the document in Storm’s, Morgan’s, and her hands. Was this a conspiracy? Couldn’t be. Not with her girls. What would be the purpose of them launching her political career then slandering her name? Surely Morgan wouldn’t do this over some dick, would she? If Brooks became defensive, her reaction would be counterproductive.

Brooks stared at her friends. Her lips tightened, then shifted to one side. She focused on Morgan’s expressionless face, realizing her so-called BFF had sent Hope to her house with the intention of invading her privacy.

“Brooks, drop the childish attitude and the piercing looks. We’re all grown-ass women and no one here is intimidated by you,” Morgan said, staring back. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“No, you don’t. You have no idea what’s on my mind.”

“Regardless,” Hope said. “This is not a pissing match. We’re all on the same team. Morgan doesn’t mean any harm. Best for us to dig up whatever skeletons you have now. At least then we can do damage control.”

Hope was wrong. Dead wrong. But to see what the girls were trying to prove, Brooks went along. “You’re right. Sooner or later the truth would come out. It’s better for me to explain to y’all than to justify in front of millions of voters why those divorce papers aren’t signed.” Explaining her marital status to the public would be easier than trying to defend a double affair.

“That cheating bastard was a horrible husband,” Brooks said. She looked at Morgan, thought about Magnum, then said, “And…I’ll leave it at that.”

Morgan calmly commented, “Your husband was horrible so you slept with mine?”

“What the hell?” Storm gasped.

Brooks hadn’t been expecting that one. But if she was going to win the race she had to beat every opponent, and if that included Morgan, too…well, bring it on. “Whose team are you on, Morgan? You send Hope to my house to spy on me, now you’re making accusations. You shouldn’t speak of things you know nothing about.”

“And you shouldn’t be so assured that you know what I know. But what I know for sure is…no thanks to you, I’m pregnant.”

Storm leapt from her seat. Brooks prayed Morgan’s last comment was another test to see if she’d break. Neither Storm nor Hope knew what Brooks wasn’t supposed to know, either, but she did. Magnum had had a vasectomy years ago.

“Aw, hell no! Y’all gon’ stop this foolishness right now!” Hope, the one that usually remained silent, spoke with disgust. “Wait one minute. Let’s put ev-ve-ry-thing and I mean everything, the truth and nothing but, on the damn table. For the rest of this meeting, I’m asking the questions.” Hope looked at Brooks. “Are you fucking Morgan and Magnum and you’re married?”

“Shut the hell up,” Storm said in disbelief, sitting on the edge of her seat. Her eyes were fixed on Brooks.

Brooks had the floor, but it was quickly collapsing underneath her. She stood. Could’ve answered, “Yes, yes, and yes,” but instead replied, “No, no, and what difference does it make.” Now that response obviously didn’t set well with Morgan, especially since she knew they were lovers. But as far as Brooks knew, Morgan had no proof about her sexing Magnum and she intended to keep it that way.

Storm stood facing Morgan. “Why would you say something like that? Why would you accuse Brooks of having an affair with your husband? Listen to me. No dick will ever divide the Rich Girls even if it’s attached to one of our men. Got that? And I think I speak for us all when I say that I’m happy about your pregnancy. But you could’ve picked a better time to tell us.”

Morgan replied to the group. “You’re right, but Brooks has to be prepared to expect the unexpected. Goodman, Wallace, Littleton, and Dennison are going to come gunning for her from all angles. We have to throw Brooks every curve imaginable.”

Morgan’s words were sensible on the surface. Underneath, her intentions were like a stick of dynamite waiting to explode in Brooks’s face. This wasn’t about Brooks. It was about Morgan wanting to maintain control even if it meant humiliating her in front of the other girls.

“I don’t get what’s happening between Morgan and Brooks, as long as whatever you’re doing stops right now and stays right here. I also agree with Storm. No dick will ever divide us. And Morgan, I suggest you have an abortion because we all know Magnum had himself fixed.”

Storm stood again. “Aw, hell no! How do you know that, Hope?”

“Doesn’t matter. Moving on. Let’s figure out what to do about this,” Hope said, waving Brooks’s unsigned divorce decree in the air. “This is what’s most important.”

“I can help with that,” Storm said. “I’ll call in a favor from Mr. Mayor, have him pay the right people to back date the papers, forge Brooks’s husband’s signature and clear this up. Brooks. all you need to do is sign your copy for me.”

“And,” Hope added, “I can locate this ex-husband of yours, Brooks, and pay him off to keep his mouth shut.”

“It’s a little shady, ladies, but I love it,” Morgan said. “Hope that works. And I’m not pregnant so no worries. I should’ve used a better prank.”

Bitch.
Brooks couldn’t gauge Morgan’s underlying intentions. She was throwing daggers all over the place. The other girls seemed united and that was all that mattered in the moment.

“For the record, I am legally divorced,” Brooks said. “If you want to know something about me, just ask.”

Morgan shook her head. Brooks ignored her.

Just like that, the pieces to Brooks’s life were starting to fit again. All except one, Bailey Goodman. None of the girls knew about her affair with him. He’d been quiet since she’d shot at him. Brooks would have to prepare for his unexpected resurgence. Surely Bailey would return for revenge and try to mutilate her campaign the same way he wanted to do her.

Brooks prayed Magnum and the girls would not only support but also protect her. Brooks wanted to question Morgan about the investment but she’d rather forfeit her five million to the group than to deal with another issue today.

“We can resolve these matters throughout the week. I have the perfect surprise to adjourn this meeting. Follow me, ladies,” Hope said, handing each of them a small box with their name on it. “And don’t think we’ve forgotten about the statement, Morgan.”

Happy to get the hell out of Morgan’s house, Brooks grabbed her purse and trailed two steps behind Hope. When Hope opened the door, they all gasped, ripped open their boxes, and screamed.

“I thought we could use a little more unity, girls, so I bought each of us a Mercedes SLS AMG…and I’ve already arranged to have the cars you drove here delivered to your homes.”

Everyone gave Hope a group hug as they jumped up and down.

“Damn, look at the rims,” Storm said. “I’m out!”

“This is really generous of you Hope. Thanks.” Morgan went inside, closed her door.

“I love the pink and chrome exterior,” Brooks said. “Catch me if you can, baby!”

And that was exactly what Morgan would have to do for whatever she was trying to prove.

F
riendships were priceless.

Hope was not willing to bail out of making sure Brooks won the election even if Brooks had been fucking Magnum and Morgan at the same time. That was their kinky business. Morgan was no saint even if she had been betrayed. When adults shared their body parts with one another, they were well within their rights even if they were wrong.

The expectations of exclusivity should be left at the altar. People knew when their partners were unfaithful before they said, “I do.” Yet they stood before each another exchanging lies instead of truths.

It was time for Morgan to stop the madness. Obviously her prank, proclaiming she was pregnant after her husband had been snipped, and confronting Brooks, were cover-ups for what she’d done with the investment fund.

Though they were having marital problems, Hope believed Morgan and Magnum loved each another. That was more than what she had with Stanley. No marriage was trouble-free and all friendships over time encountered situations that would test the bond. In Morgan’s case, Hope felt all would be good after Brooks won the election, because despite Morgan’s disillusionment and disappointment, her heart was good.

Flipping through TV channels, Hope stopped on CNN. Stanley was reclining on the sofa next to her while he read something on his iPad. It was like he was joined at the hip with his computer whenever he wasn’t sexing her. She couldn’t complain; her cell phone was in her hand and her computer was within reach.

“Baby, what do want to do this morning? You want to eat in? Or you want to eat out?” she asked.

“Both,” he said.

“I’m serious, Stanley.”

“Me too. First I’m going to eat your pussy. Then you’re going to do me and I’m going to give you every inch of this,” he said, stroking his dick. “We’re going to do it until we work up an appetite. And then I’m going to take you to breakfast,” he slid his finger across his screen like there was a picture slide of what he’d just described.

A man’s mind was always on sex. At least Stanley had no reservations about what he wanted. She didn’t mind him talking about having sex but at times the overkill diminished her enthusiasm.

“Sounds good. Just so you know, I have to deliver a car this afternoon.”

Stanley looked at her, exhaled. “First we couldn’t go to Paris. Now this. I took off from work to spend time with you. Today was supposed to be our work-free day.”

The thought of doing nothing all day was driving her insane. She switched to the ten o’clock morning news. Until they made it to France, he’d complain about their not going every opportunity he could.

“It was supposed to be my day off, baby, but my client texted me and he wants his half-million dollar purchase today. I won’t be long and it’s not until later.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Then show me the text.”

She shook her head. “Why don’t I stop by your house when I’m done? I have to leave at two and I’ll be done by six.”

Truth was, Brooks hadn’t produced a copy of her divorce decree. Hope couldn’t locate it. She’d arranged to get a copy from a contact Storm had. If that person didn’t find the alleged decree, they’d falsify one. Hope wasn’t sure how long that would take. Factoring in time for delays was wise.

Stanley resumed focusing on his computer. Hope increased the volume on her television when it was announced that news about the governor’s election was coming up next.

Hope believed in communication, and as long as a person expressed their true feelings, that was sufficient. Whether or not they kept their word was often but not always a reflection of their character. If Stanley didn’t move off the sofa until two, that was okay. She understood that sometimes a man’s ego had a change of heart. An innocent statement had changed Stanley’s mood from hot to cold.

An update on the California governor race was coming on after Brooks’s commercial. Hope smiled and turned up the volume a little more. “That’s my girl.”

Hope would never marry Stanley. They weren’t close to being equally yoked. They were sexually compatible, but good dick wasn’t enough of a reason for her to make a lifelong commitment.

If Hope’s mom ever divorced her dad, her mom would get twenty-five percent of the business and their mutually shared assets. That was what her mom had negotiated when she’d exchanged vows with her father. A deal was brilliant when both partners had some bargaining power. The problem Hope saw was that most people didn’t see marriage as a business arrangement or as an investment.

“Baby, you look so sexy,” Stanley said, interrupting her thoughts. “I’m not going to ask what you’re thinking. Give me a kiss.” His hand traveled between her thighs, fingered her clit.

Guess his dick had changed its mind. His ego seemed to decline commenting on Brooks’s commercial. Hope touched his face, then kissed him softly.

“Let’s go out dancing tonight when I’m done dropping off my client’s car. I want to rub these,” she grabbed her breasts, “all over you in public until my nipples get really hard, then we can come back here and you can have your way with me. Oh, and if we go, I’m not wearing any panties or a bra.”

Stanley slapped her ass. “This is why I can’t resist you.” The sting immediately excited her, making her pussy wet.

Hope squeezed his hand, but the television screen caught her eye. “Wait a minute.”

Laura Littleton stood in front of a podium with several reporters in the background. “With regret, I’m going to have to withdraw from the governor’s race due to insufficient funding. I simply do not have enough donations to travel and campaign effectively. I want to thank all of you who contributed and supported me. All the volunteers…”

Hope sprang from the sofa, screamed with laughter, and started dancing in the middle of the floor. “Yes! I did the right thing by not giving her that check! I’m so happy she’s gone.”

Her phone rang. “Yes, girl, I’m watching. We have to toast; one down! You talked to Morgan?” she asked Brooks.

“Not, yet. I’m going to call her now. You’re still picking up my divorce papers, right?”

“Of course, sweetie. Don’t you worry about that. Now call Morgan. Bye.”

Hope dropped to her knees. “This calls for a celebration. This here dick in my hands is going down.”

She removed his pajama pants, spread his legs. Hope opened her mouth as wide as she could. She wanted to suck Stanley’s dick nice and slow, but she was so excited she slid his entire shaft as far as it would go until his head hit the back of her throat.

“Damn, hearing that made you hot like this,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. “Aw, shit. Slow down before you make me cum. I want to enjoy this.”

Providing fantastic fellatio was a woman’s best weapon. Hope wasn’t Superhead but she gave superb head. By the time Hope finished doing Stanley, he’d cook breakfast, happily leave at two, and eagerly wait to find out what she’d plan for their evening.