Faithfully

“Ireland has the best shops! I’ve never shopped so much in my life,” I held up a pretty black dress. “Isn’t this beautiful, I got it in a vintage dress shop on the corner for half off.”

“Wow,” James looked around the room, amazed.

“Hi,” I waved to the three men behind James as I dug in my pocket for the rest of his money. “Here’s the change. I tried not to spend too much, I bargained a lot.”

“What- you only spent half?” James looked at his change and then at the room full. “How?”

“I’m a thrifty woman, I can bargain you out of your shoes for less than a quarter if I wanted too,” I shrugged, that was the only answer he needed.

“Can we swap wives, man?” the brunette man behind James tried to bargain with him, I smiled at the joke.

“No thanks, I like it here,” I shrugged. “But I really appreciate the offer.”

The guys around him laughed all in good fun for him being rejected. James winked and gestured for me to stand up, which I did.

“Guys I want you to meet my wife Grace, Grace I want you to meet the guys, Red, Mikey and Cooper, my team,” James introduced with respect; I nodded to each of them as they held their hands up. I sat back down on the floor when James started directing them towards his office. “We’ll be out for dinner, honey.”

“Okay, have fun,” I threw a hand up but paid no mind, I was busy.

“Let’s get this upstairs,” Betty trailed in with one last bag, it was hers. I bought her a dress at a thrift shop that was vintage silk and lace. “Before someone falls in this pit and dies.”

“Oh how funny,” I faked a laugh. I gave her a glare as I held my arms out. “Load me up, hoss.”

“It’s my job,” she started until I smacked her with an outstretched arm. “Fine, but you better cover my ass.”

“Like I haven’t before,” I snorted and tried to race her up the stairs, I ended up on my ass twice with her laughing at me. “You’re not supposed to laugh!”

“You’re laughing,” she pointed out between laughs.

You can make me a Queen but I’d always just be a New York girl.

“Shut up loser,” I muttered, dropping all the bags I carried on my bedroom floor.

“Is this where you and hot stuff get it on?” Betty’s eyebrows rose at the size of James’ massive four poster bed.

“Yes,” I rolled my eyes at her maturity level; it was around the age of a seventh grader.

“What a comfy bed,” she lay out on the top of the freshly made bed spread eagle, enjoying the feel. “You always did get all the good stuff, lucky bitch.”

“Do you want a bed like this?” I asked, I didn’t want to feel guilty for Betty having the short end of Life’s stick again. We have different upbringings; I had everything where she had to fight for what little she had.

“Nope, my bed’s comfy enough for me,” she sat up with a sigh. “Do you miss home, Gracie?”

“What was to miss for me? School, classes at all hours, no friends except you?” I scoffed at my own pathetic life. I had everything yet I had nothing all at the same time. “No, I don’t miss it, I have everything I miss right here.”

“Aw,” she leaped from the bed to hug me tightly.

“Why are you hugging me? I was talking about my stuff,” I smiled at the smack I received, she grinned childishly and pecked my cheek. “I love you, creep.”

“I love you too, freak,” she laughed, sitting back on the edge of the bed. “Can I tell you something?”

“No,” I gave her a smartass remark to show that she was asking a stupid question.

“I’m going to anyways,” she responded, nervously clamping her hands together. “I don’t know how to say it…I just, I don’t think Marguerite is who you think she is.”

“Why do you say that?” it confused me, why would she say that.

“I heard former Queenie and Marguerite arguing yesterday morning while I was dusting the north wing,” she started but paused, not knowing how to continue. “They were talking about James when Marguerite remarked that James would be hers one way or another and then they started fighting.”

“She’s not his sister? What does that mean?” I asked softly, eyeing Betty for an answer.

“I have no idea but I think she wants your man,” Betty warned me, her look showed she was nervous about it.

“Why is she living with us if she’s not his sister?’ I was starting to get upset.

“Don’t say anything, snoop and find out,” she told me, softening her tone to be a near whisper. “What can they do if they find you? You’re the Queen.”

I did what she told me, I snooped for three whole weeks while James was busy with his team, planning some kind of attack on DeMotta. I snuck around, eavesdropping on Annette, Marguerite, Colin and James to if he was around any of them and all I came up with was that Marguerite was not well liked by anyone, especially Annette. I just couldn’t get it out of them the reason why she was still here or why she was even here in the first place.

By the time I grew extremely frustrated with the lack of knowledge and the little blond annoyance was on the edge of my nerves, I was livid at James for not telling me about it all, I finally had enough. I planned on talking to James, making him tell me about Marguerite the morning I woke up with a don’t give a damn attitude and a new found surprise, when I caught Marguerite going into James’ office with him in there alone. I’m not a jealous person but I wasn’t going to just leave, I had to know what was going on. I tried to listen from afar but I couldn’t hear a thing so I went towards the keyhole. I knew there was a strong chance that I’d get caught but I couldn’t not watch.