Chapter Two
Stacey

From: NYGrrrl
To: MaureenS
Mom-
Did you get the invitation? Isn't it gorgeous? Charlotte did the wording. She's a little nervous about being in the wedding, but says she's happy to do it for me, as well as Claudia. I was so happy when she agreed. Claud was really adamant about having one of our old clients in her wedding, probably to counter her sister. Can you BELIEVE Mr. And Mrs Kishi insisted Janine be in the wedding? Claud had to say yes, of course, or they wouldn't have paid for it. I think that's sad, a bride should get everything exactly as she wants it. I'm glad you're such an awesome mom!
Your wonderful daughter,
Stacey
PS - watch out for a package. I sent you some more of those gourmet cookies you loved!

I waited patiently as Carlos, my driver, came around the car to open my door. He won't let me open it myself. He says he wouldn't feel as if he were doing his job.

My door opened, and I stepped out, careful to keep my feet together, careful not to catch my six inch heels on the door frame.

"Thank you, Carlos." I said, smiling widely at him.

"My pleasure, Mrs. Price. Have a wonderful afternoon."

Ugh. "Carlos, please call me Stacey. I don't call you Mr... Mr..." I stumbled, reddening. Why didn't I know his last name?

"Lopez. I'm sorry, Mrs. Price, I cannot." He replied with a smile.

I smiled back. "Fine. See you tomorrow."

"Tonight. You and the Mister are going to a gallery."

"Oh." I nodded and walked away. Had he told me we were going to a gallery? We go out so much, I can never seem to keep track. Carlos shut the door behind me and I headed for my building.

"Welcome back, Mrs. Price!" The doorman said brightly, holding the large door open.

I smiled, embarrassed that I did not know his name. I walked quickly across the lobby, my heels echoing behind me. My feet were absolutely killing me. I couldn't wait to get home and into a hot bath.

I called the elevator, and when the doors closed and left me alone, I sighed and slumped against the wall, kicking off my shoes. Walking upright, perfect posture, head held high all day in six in heels is hard on a girls back. I reached out and pushed the "P" button listlessly, and waited impatiently as I was taken 35 floors to my penthouse apartment.

As I opened the door, I called out. "Martin? I'm home!"

All I heard was clicking on the hardwood floor as Trixie, my Yorkshire Terrier, came running. She ran to me excitedly, putting her tiny paws on my shins.

I dropped my shoes on the ground and picked her up. "Hi, my little Trixie-pixie" I cooed, kissing the top of her head. She licked my cheek and burrowed her face into my neck.

"Martin?" I called again, knowing it was useless. If he was home, which I'm pretty sure he was, he was in his study, working. I wouldn't disturb him. He was probably on the phone to Japan or something. Sighing, I hugged Trixie closer. "Come on, girl. Mommy needs a bath."

I felt a tug on my heart as I said the word "Mommy." I wanted a baby, so bad. Martin, though, felt it wasn't the right time. I'm still waiting on the word of when the right time will be.

My name is Anastasia Elizabeth McGill Price. Publicly, I go by Stacey Elizabeth Price. I'm twenty-seven years old, and live on Park Avenue in New York City with my husband, Martin, Miss Trixie, and countless servants, cooks, maids, what have you. I was born and raised in the City, and it's where my heart belongs. I spent six years in the small town of Stoneybrook, Connecticut and graduated from high school there. My mother still lives there, and I miss her a lot. My father lives here in the City, and I see him, oh, maybe once a month. He works, a lot. Still.

As I ran my bath, I sighed to myself. When Martin proposed to me, I'd been blown away. We had only been dating for two months. But I was in love, and I said yes. We married about a year later, a small but beautiful wedding in the Hamptons. That was a year and four months ago. A year and three months ago, Martin insisted that I stop working. I didn't have the most glamorous job, I wasn't an executive or anything, but I'd been enjoying myself. I love numbers, anything to do with him. Martin, though, insisted that no wife of his would work, but merely be pampered as much as she pleased. That, back then, sounded divine.

Now I'm bored.

Oh, I have plenty to do. Openings and shows, restaurants and galleries, museums and, of course, shopping. I've been helping my best friend, Claudia Kishi, plan her wedding, because I'm her Maid of Honor. I don't feel full, though. I miss being something. Before I was Stacey McGill, Analyst. Now I'm Stacey Elizabeth Price, Socialite. I figure that a baby would make a great difference. But you already know how he feels about that.

I settled into the large whirlpool tub with a moan. Trixie, perched on a towel on the edge of the tub (I say "edge," it's two feet wide, plenty of room for her.) cocked her head at me.

"My back hurts." I explained, playing with the bubbles. Suddenly I felt regret. I could use a nice big glass of chilled red wine. I bit my lip, glancing at the phone. I all have to do is pick it up, and it would ring the servants quarters. (Yes, we have two servants, and yes, they live here.) Even after nearly a year and a half, I felt a little strange asking them to bring me things.

Trixie growled. I grinned at her. "Okay, okay." I said, giving in. I picked up the phone.

"Yes?" A quiet voice said after a moment.

Kara. Good. I was hoping to get her, and not Harold. I was naked, after all, even if the bubbles did cover the interesting parts. "Hello, Kara, this is Stacey."

"Yes, Madam."

Madam. Ugh. "Call me Stacey, Kara." I said, knowing it was useless. "Would you please bring me a glass of chilled Merlot? I'm in the tub in the master bathroom."

"Of course. Does the Madame prefer a year?"

I blushed, even with only Trixie watching. I do not know wine. I used to buy it in a box. "Anything, will do, Kara. I don't really know. Could you also bring a treat for Trixie?"

"Right away." She said crisply, and hung up.

I replaced the phone on its cradle and sighed again. Funny, when I was a teenager I had thought of myself as sophisticated. Especially in Stoneybrook. It wasn't until I married into extreme wealth that I found out I didn't know sophistication at all. This was a whole new level. Close to the top level. What comes after Manhattan Elite? Movie stars, royalty... I can't think of much else. Plus I happen to know I have a lot more money than most movie stars. They live much more on the edge, spend their money. The Manhattan Elite invest.

After perhaps two minutes, a soft knock sounded at the bathroom door. "Come in!" I called brightly.

Kara entered wordlessly, her head slightly downcast. It used to bug me, the way servants just... put themselves below you, with that downward angle to their head. I learned, though, that is how they are trained. Kara is beautiful, exotic. She told me she is from Brazil. Her accent is light but warm, and her face glows even in dim light. Her long black hair is always wound tightly into a bun, and it shines. She always dresses in all black. Everyone on our staff does.

"Thank you, so much, Kara." I said, hoping I sounded gracious, because I very much was. A small silver tray held my glass of wine, and a small dish with something ugly in it for Trixie. Kara set the tray on the vanity, and my wine next to me. She set the dish in front of Trixie, and patted her head with a smile. Trixie dove into her treat.

"My pleasure, Madam."

"Kara, we're alone in a bathroom and I'm naked. Call me Stacey."

She laughed, a sweet laugh, like ringing bells. "Oh, Madam, you're so funny. And you know I cannot."

"But you can!" I insisted. "I am so tired of being called Madam, Mrs. Price, ma'am, missus. My name is Stacey, always has been."

"I thought it was Anastasia?" She asked with a grin. I love the way she pronounces my name. Ann-uh-STAH-juh. If I could convince everyone to say it like that, I might go for it.

'You could call me that, if you like!" I said excitedly.

"No, Madam, I cannot. Mr. Price would not approve."

"And he pays you." I said with a sigh. "That's fine. Perhaps I'll have a talk with him, convince him to relax the rules a bit."

"Wouldn't that be nice? Is there anything else I can do for you, Madam?"

I thought about it. "Is Martin home?"

"Mr. Price is in his study, yes."

"Do not disturb?"

"He has asked that he be left alone."

"Hmm." I said, chewing on my lip. "Do you know anything about this gallery we're going to tonight?"

"It's an opening. Modern art, I believe? I called in the RSVP."

"Do you know if Claudia is going?"

"I do not believe so, Madam. It is Black Tie."

Translation: Claudia isn't a billionaire. "Hmmph. Do we have any pull? Get her on the list?" I asked hopefully.

"I will see what I can do." Kara said with a smile. "Just Ms. Kishi, or her fiancee, as well?"

"Jackson is in Los Angeles this week, doing a video shoot." I replied. "Let me know as soon as you do, okay? Claud is dying to show off that ring at a formal affair."

"Yes, madam." Kara replied, ducking out of the bathroom.

When I was done with my wine and bath, pleasantly buzzed, I curled up in my big, fluffy pink robe and dialed my best friend on my iPhone.

Claudia had kept her engagement a secret for two reasons. One, she loves to surprise people. And two, it took months for Jackson to get the ring made. Jackson Grohl is a director, mostly just commercials and music videos. He's dying to break into T.V. and movies, of course. He has a lot of money, just not a lot by the Price standard. He's very artistic, very smart, and is deeply in love with Claudia. He proposed to her three months ago, but didn't have a ring, because he knew Claud would want to design it.

And that she did. It's a massive four-carat chocolate diamond, that sparkles every which way, set in platinum. She made it no secret that she loved how her ring resembled a Hershey Bar wrapped in foil.

Only Claudia.

"Hey Stace." She said when she picked up, sounding distracted. She'd told me she was working this afternoon. She's an assistant to a big-time interior designer. I could picture her, comparing swatches, he Bluetooth clinging to her ear.

"Guess what?" I asked excitedly. Kara had returned not six minutes later to inform me Claud was on the list.

"Martin came out of his study early?" She asked slyly. She knows it frustrates me, how little I see him even when he's home.

"No, but he will be later. We're going to some formal gallery thing. Modern art. Guess who I... well, guess who Kara got on the list?"

"What?" Claudia shrieked. "Not the Todd Davis opening?"

"Like I know."

"Oh I think it might be! Modern art, black tie, tonight... it's the only one that I can think of. Yeah! Davis! Oh, my Lord! Formal you say?"

"Formal."

"Omigod... photographers. My ring! I can show off my ring! Stacey! I could make the tabloids! We have to make sure they know I'm engaged to Jackson! Oh, I wish he was here..."

I happily chattered with Claud for nearly an hour, discussing what we would wear. Claud decided she was going to tip off a paparazzo she knew and try and get herself and her ring in a tabloid. Only my Claudia.

After I hung up with her I sat at my vanity and began to reapply my makeup. That's when Martin finally made an appearance.

"Darling." He said, kissing the side of my head. "Are you getting ready? We have an early dinner, and the opening to attend."

"I know." I said, smiling. "I'm getting ready now. I had Kara put Claudia on the list, too."

Did his smile falter just a little when I said that? Sometimes I get the feeling he doesn't like Claudia. She can be a little wild.

But he smiled, nonetheless. "Wonderful! I know how she loves modern art."

And I don't. I thought to myself. I mean, I like it, but half my reason for bringing Claud is so I can understand it. "Yes, she does." I agreed. "You don't mind that I invited her?"

"No, of course not. I'm going to be talking to-" He rattled off a long name, some CEO. My eyes glazed over and I lost interest as he explained why this was a good contact.

Oh well. At least I had a night out with Claudia to look forward to.

"AHHHHHHHHHRRRRRG! Damn you look hot!" Claudia exclaimed as she slid into out limo. I was wearing a Gucci strapless cherry color satin drape gown. I'd let my wavy blonde hair fall over my shoulders, and added modest diamond necklace. In my lap I held a matching furry shag shrug - it was too hot to wear it in the car.

"You brought them!" I exclaimed. Claudia grinned and held the shoes out to me. I'd called her in a shoe crisis, and she had suggested these bright yellow patent Manolo Blahnik pumps she has. I slipped them on and grinned at her. They looked fabulously funky. Just the right touch.

Claudia was decked out in a black skimmer dress with a flowing skirt and tight bodice. It was incredibly low cut - practically to her navel. She'd accessorized with bright green pumps, and a chunky bright green necklace. Her hair hung loose, and she'd added a bright green extension that peeked out from behind her ear. On anyone else it might not have worked, but she looked stunning.

"You look pretty amazing yourself!" I cried, hugging her. "Thanks for the shoes, they're perfect."

Martin was sitting off to the side, a drink in his hand. He looked as if he thought we'd lost our minds. He had a simple tuxedo on. His only accessory was his gold Rolex - and his wedding ring. I moved closer and took his hand. He smiled at me.

"I love you." I murmured, leaning in and kissing him lightly on the lips.

"I love you t–"

And his cell phone rang.

So much for our moment. I pulled away as he answered. Claud smiled at me sympathetically. I grinned back, trying to shake it off. "So, tell me about this Tom David guy."

She laughed. "Todd Davis. He's got a real Andy Warhol style. My favorite piece..." and Claud was off and running. I sat there, in the back of a limo, My husband at my side with a finger in one ear and a phone at the other, and my best friend gushing about the artist we were about to see, and wondered why I suddenly felt left out.