by Carrie
He disappeared down the hallway, so I took advantage of my time. A quick look in the mirror to fix my hair and then an overall look to let me know that a beautiful girl in jeans, old tank top and bare feet could look as great as a girl in a three grand Gaultier.
I looked stunning, lean, firm, and terrific even in throw-on clothing. I’m a pretty girl yet I’ve always had deeper aspirations than vanity; I can wear anything if I have to. Sure I like parties and frills, but I can be quite contemplative and reflective. I have a secret diary with all my thoughts and ideas which I’ve implemented in my business. It has made me rich and renowned at a very young age. And I’ve done it on my own and I’m very proud of it. I don’t need some stupid sugar daddy. I make my own rules. I am the boss. Fuck men.
Anyway, I gave myself the once over again just to make sure nothing was amiss and got an idea, maybe I should slip into something else. But it was too late. The stripper was turning into my bedroom. I stepped away from the mirror, grabbed my sneakers to look busy then forced myself to say something.
“Have any problem finding your way?” “No, and I liked those pictures.” I knew which ones, “Oh that was me when I was a teenager, about fifteen years ago.” “You had your own horse?” I said, “Three.” “Wasn’t that a lot?”
“No. I needed one for dressage, one for hunter-jumper, and well, another for…” I really didn’t know. He was staring at my cleavage. “You’re really beautiful.” I lied because pretty girls sometimes have to, “I’m just average.” He said, “You’re way more than average.” I said, “Look, I think it’s nice a guy takes notice of a girl or else she feels absolutely terrible. But we know when we’re being kidded.”
He was looking at me kind of funny, “You’re not going for a run this time of night?” I said, “Well, I…” holding the sneakers in each hand like a fool, “was thinking about it since the party is, you know, such a boring dud.” I let go of the sneakers.
He said, “If you don’t mind me saying, you shouldn’t let them have all the fun.” I have to admit that I hadn’t thought of it that way. I felt caught off guard. Like someone had snuck into second base, and I don’t mean baseball. Then he said, “You ought to go back in and let them know that you can’t be rid of so quickly.” He actually wasn’t all wrong. He wasn’t all right. But he wasn’t all wrong.
And he wasn’t all that bad looking either, not great, but not as bad as I had thought. I mean he would do in a pinch. He went on, “ I overheard what, your friend Cassidy, what she said to you and it was mean and you shouldn’t let someone like that bully you.”
Hmmm….“I’m of the opinion she got rid of you which is what she wanted. You’re her competition. Now she’s the star of a party in your own home. I would never allow that. Never.”
He said, “If I were you I’d go back in there. Let them know.” I pressed him, “Know what?” He eyed me and said, “Who’s the prettiest girl? Because if you aren’t then I don’t know who is.”
I liked the way he said that, the confidence, the calm but sure nerve. I am the prettiest girl, not that there aren’t others, but I happen to be special. I’ve spent my whole life having men and women constantly gawk at me and then I got legitimately paid for it. Beauty self anoints.
So…. “You know, I think you’re right. Maybe I have been seeing things a bit wrong.” I got my Cavalli outfit off the floor but he stopped me, “I wouldn’t do that.” I looked up, “Why not?”
“You’ve been out of the party for a while. If you return with something else on you can tell your girlfriends you felt you needed to change and Cassidy, though she may think differently, you’ve got her in check.”
I was beginning to like him. He was smart, too. I took a long look at him and said, “I think I will put on something different.” “That’s the idea. Make it so they know that you really had to change into something else.”
I was thinking he’d make a good butler, at least better than a stripper. He’d be good at telling me what to do. Maybe not as good as Thisley, but no one lives forever. I had an idea I could train him; there’s nothing like a trained man, but not yet.
End of Diary of A Rich Girl – Chapter 174
Diary of a Rich Girl to be continued…
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