Parts of it had been fun. She and Michelle had gone on a great shopping binge, and she'd not only replaced her own wardrobe, but Michelle's, too. Purses, shoes, good jewelry, silk blouses, sharp and sexy dresses ... it had been great. But one of the most disconcerting things she'd learned was that, after a few days, she got bored with shopping. She would never in a million years have thought that would have happened, but there it was. Being able to spend money was great. After the initial glee and spree, though, she hadn't seen anything else she'd wanted, and boredom had set in. That still felt like some kind of betrayal by the universe.
Her life had definitely changed. Most of her old friends had fallen by the wayside already, while she'd become very friendly with her lawyer, William Lourdes. He was a shark, but he was her shark. He'd smiled when he'd read the suit Dylan had filed against her. In short order, after Lourdes had filed a countersuit, with prejudice, against Dylan that would have taken everything he owned, Dylan had dropped his suit and dropped out of her orbit. Bill, as Lourdes insisted she call him, had then set about setting up her estate to protect it from all the human vultures who would try to get a piece of it should something happen to her.
Sitting there in the dark car, Jenner felt a tiny smile move her lips at the very idea that she, Jenner Redwine, had an estate. Wow.
She also had both a savings account and a checking account at a bank - a bank where the tellers and managers called her by name, and where she was always treated with both kindness and courtesy. A mere two months ago, having even a small checking account hadn't been on her radar. Now she seemed to spend a lot of time at the bank, moving things in and out of her safe-deposit box, because she couldn't leave any type of paperwork at the house, not with Jerry still hanging around.
He hadn't given up, but then she hadn't really thought he would. She'd bought him some clothes, even given him a hundred here and there, but without any real hope that he'd leave. She knew her dad. He would play it straight for a while, try to ease her suspicions, then he'd come up with a good reason why he needed a new car, or try to talk her into buying him a condo, or something like that. A few hundred dollars wouldn't even make a dent in Jerry's ambition.
Finally she gathered her energy and climbed out of the Camry She didn't have to shove her shoulder against the door to force it open, the way she had with the Goose. She hadn't firebombed the Goose, though she'd thought about it. The poor thing looked like crap, but the motor was dependable, so she'd donated it to a charity. There'd been a time when she'd needed that ugly car; someone else needed it now. Thank God that someone wasn't her.
Her energy level picked up as she slung her new, expensive purse over her shoulder and walked toward Bird's. An evening of laughing and dancing was just what she needed; she'd feel better after a beer. Michelle would already be a drink or two into the evening, and a dance or two - or three - ahead of Jenner, but that was okay, because Jenner didn't think she'd be able to keep up with her tonight.
The bar was packed and incredibly noisy - it was a Friday night, after all - so she had to look around the milling bodies for a while before she spotted Michelle, sitting at a table with three other regulars. From the number of glasses and bottles on the table, Michelle and the others had more than a two-drink jump on the evening.
Jenner was almost at the table before Michelle spotted her. "Woohoo!" she yelled. "Love the hair!"
Jenner resisted the urge to touch her hair, which was now black, with spiky little strands on top. She had gotten it done just that morning. The new style was elegant and sexy and edgy, but most of all, it made her look so different that few people recognized her. After the last couple of months, she figured that was a good thing.
She pulled up a chair and sat, looking around for a waitress. "I'm wearing the shoes," Michelle announced, turning so she could lift her foot high enough for Jenner to see. The shoes had been outrageously expensive, over five hundred bucks, but seeing the undiluted delight on Michelle's face as she'd tried them on had made Jenner think they were well worth it. But then Michelle had been oddly terrified to wear them, afraid they'd get scuffed or she'd break a heel, or something. She had often tried them on at home, then put them safely away. This was the shoes' first outing, and Jenner clapped her hands.
"About time," she said.
"Are they hot, or what?" Michelle asked, turning her foot this way and that as she admired the rhinestones on the delicate straps. She lifted her foot even higher, so the two men and woman who also sat at the table could see. Across from the table, a man whistled as Michelle's lifted foot maybe gave him more to admire than just a shoe. She laughed, stuck her tongue out at him, but put her foot back on the floor.
"Next time," she said to the other three, "I'm going to get the matching purse. It was amazing. The leather felt like butter, it was so soft."
Before Jenner could say anything, the cocktail waitress arrived with a loaded tray. As she began passing out the new round, she glanced at Jenner. "What'll you have?"
"A beer," Jenner said. As tired as she was, she was wary of drinking very much; she'd limit herself to the one beer and go home in an hour or so.
"Your tab's up to ninety-four fifty," the waitress said to Michelle, her tone saying that she wanted to see some cash or a credit card before anything else was ordered.
"Put it on her tab," Michelle said carelessly, picking up her colorful drink and tipping the glass in Jenner's direction. "She'll take care of it. That's what she's food gor. I mean, good for." She laughed at her silly mistake, waving her hand so that the contents slopped over the edge of the glass; she stopped to swipe her finger over the rim before sticking it in her mouth. "Oops," she said.