I smashed my lips together and looked over the menu. Everything was priced way too high for my budget.
When a waiter came to the table, Lola ordered an expensive bottle of chilled white wine. The server poured us glasses when he returned with the bottle and I sipped it, despite still feeling buzzed from the bottle of CÎROC and sangrias I’d had at her mansion.
Lola had had several drinks herself, and I took a mental note of that. The woman loved to drink, almost like it was a slight addiction, and I would use that to my advantage one day.
We placed our orders, and as soon as the waiter was gone, Lola sighed and said, “Okay, Ivy. Look.”
Oh, shit. Here it comes.
“About what you got done from Corey—I’m not bothered by it at all. In fact, I’ve sent my friends to Corey for things they’ve wanted done many times before. I’m sensing some tension from you and I don’t want you to think I’m upset by that at all.”
Wow. That was shocking. “Really? Oh, thank goodness.” Relief, relief, relief. I have to say, I was a little worried there, Marriott. Not too much, but a little. “I really thought you were upset with me about it. I—I know I should have told you beforehand, but it slipped my mind so many times, and I always get so shy around you.”
“No.” She laughed. “Why would I be upset about that? There’s nothing wrong with getting something like that done!”
“Well, mainly because I know he’s your husband, and having a woman you just met get a boob job from your spouse seems kind of... odd.”
“It was a little weird when he first started doing it,” she said, swirling her wine in her glass with her upper back pressed to the chair. “But I finally came to the realization that it’s his job, and it makes him great money. He doesn’t look at it the way I think he does, and that gives me peace of mind.”
Yeah, I bet it did. She was so full of shit, Marriott.
If my man was doing breast implants every week and then getting as many looks and feels as he wanted after the woman healed, it would annoy me. I’d wonder if he wanted to wrap his lips around their taut nipples during the checkups. Maybe that’s just me, though. I suppose rich people think differently.
“I went to Dr. Maxwell because I found him on Google,” I confessed. “He was so highly recommended, and he had stunning reviews. I wanted to be in good hands for the job. It wasn’t until I followed you on Instagram that I put two and two together. I didn’t even realize he was your husband.”
“That I can understand. There are many cosmetic surgeons in Miami who are so expensive but are complete trash.”
I laughed on cue.
“If you don’t mind me asking, though, what made you get them done?” She gestured to my chest with her glass in hand. “Was it just a spur-of-the-moment thing?”
I sat up in my chair and sank my teeth into my bottom lip. This was the moment I’d been waiting for. I knew one day Corey would pop up and mention I was a client, and that Lola would be curious about it.
I had wanted her to ask this question, to feed her more of my story, get her to connect with me more. Granted, she wasn’t supposed to ask today, but things would move quicker this way. It was fine, Marriott. I had this all under control.
“Um . . . well, it’s kind of personal and kind of messed up. I probably shouldn’t get into it right now.”
“Oh—no, you don’t have to tell me, then. Don’t even worry.” Her voice was filled with compassion, and I knew I had her interest when she sat forward to look me in the eye.
“It’s just . . . when I think about it, I get really upset. Going to get them done was a big step for me, and a challenge, but talking about it is . . . it’s kind of hard sometimes.”
“Right. Of course.” This woman had no idea what to say, but the curiosity was burning deep in those hazel eyes of hers.
I sipped my wine slowly, letting the crisp taste burst on my tongue. “It’s just . . . well, do you remember when I told you about my ex?”
“And how he was a piece of shit? Yes, I do.” She put down her glass, her arms folded on the tabletop, fully alert.
“Well, he used to have this . . . fetish. He would um . . . put these metal clamps on my nipples and tug them really hard. I hated it, but I did it for him because I had nowhere else to stay, and he always threatened to kick me out if I didn’t do what he wanted. Anyway, he tugged too hard one time, and one of my nipples actually ripped.”