Members Only by Gold Lise & Taylor Madeleine

Author:Gold, Lise & Taylor, Madeleine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lise Gold Books
Published: 2023-05-27T00:00:00+00:00

37

OLIVIA

Exiting the bank, I feel more at ease now that my tips are safely in my account. Four thousand pounds used to mean nothing to me. It was a night out or a new dress. Sometimes it was a ridiculously expensive bottle of Champagne at a restaurant if I wanted to impress one of my friends. Now, it means everything. It’s a gateway to a better future; a chance to do something with my life. Funny how things change.

I pass shops I wouldn’t have dreamed of entering before, but now they are just about in my price range if I can manage to budget. Not that I need anything. I have so many clothes that I can’t even find a place to store them, and some are still brand-new, but I still miss shopping and buying something just because it boosts my confidence and puts me in a good mood.

Meeting one of my few remaining friends for coffee, I’m feeling a little apprehensive, as it’s been months since I saw any of them. I’ve kept to myself and made up excuses to get out of social engagements. The main reason is that I can’t afford to hang out with them anymore. The restaurants they’d choose for lunch or dinner are too expensive, so coffee is my only option. I agreed to meet Iqra in some new fancy place in Belgravia; it’s a treat to myself after earning my tips.

I’m nervous as I enter the chic café and take a seat at the only free table. Iqra is not here yet, and I feel clumsy ordering a latte because I haven’t done it in so long. From the corner of my eye, I see her dashing in, and when I say dashing, I mean dashing. She’s over-the-top and colorful and proudly overstated.

“Olivia! My darling, how have you been?” she asks, pulling me into a hug. This chokes me up, as I’ve only ever known Iqra to give air kisses.

“I’m good.” I look her over. “My God, you look stunning.”

“Thank you.” Iqra ruffles a hand through her sharp, bright-red bob. She’s an heiress of Pakistani descent and a well-known presence in London. While most of my friends ghosted me when my father’s trial started, Iqra kept in contact from the sidelines, and that meant a lot to me. “I dyed my hair. Do you like it?” she asks, shaking her head from side to side.

“Love it,” I say, fingering her locks. “What made you decide on the change?”

“New man,” she states with a grin. “It’s only been five weeks, but it feels right. I think he’s the one.”

“That’s amazing, babe, I’m so happy for you,” I say, and when the waitress approaches, I pause while Iqra orders a double Blue Mountain with a shot of coconut milk. “Who is he?”

“He’s of royalty, of course,” she says, tapping her hands on the table. “Pakistani royalty, but he lives in London. We’re so perfectly suited, and I can’t even begin to tell you how amazing he is.

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