Trophy: Part One by SE Chardou & Selene Chardou

Author:SE Chardou & Selene Chardou [Chardou, SE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Midnight Engel Press, LLC
Published: 2015-05-12T04:00:00+00:00

It’d been several weeks since I’d done something as reckless as indulge in a one-night-stand with a guy who I only knew somewhat casually—if one counted the fact I listened to his music—and the shame still hadn’t dissipated.

I didn’t expect to hear back from him and it was the main reason why I’d called Grace to pick me up in the wee hours of that Sunday morning. She did it without a thought but I knew she’d eventually have questions I would be forced to answer.

My period of mourning officially ended the day we’d decided to meet for lunch at Calienté, a fusion Caribbean restaurant that served traditional dishes from Cuba, Puerto Rico and beyond. It was upscale, hip, and one of the most popular restaurants for both the young elite socialite crowd and aging baby-boomer Hollywood royalty who refused to accept they were no longer the toast of the town except in name recognition only.

I dressed to the nines even though I wore a pair of black jeans that molded to my body and a silk sleeveless blouse the color of sangria red. To accentuate my dark jeans, I wore a pair of sky-high Yves Saint Laurent heels and carried an overpriced, silver Hermès Kelly handbag.

Being the widow of one of the most respected producers did have its advantages monetarily after all. Although I’d always had great taste, and an eye for a bargain, slowly my Kate Spade and Michael Kors handbags were shelved for Louis Vuitton and Hermès. My upper mid-priced clothes were given to consignment shops and suddenly everything I wore was Chanel, Christian Louboutin or some other French designer with Armani and Versace sprinkled in for good measure.

The person who I’d become to attract Richard was replaced by the person my husband wanted me to be; refined, untouchable and elite. I drew the line on my handbags and still pulled out my favorites now that I was no longer beholden to any man. Unfortunately, the Hermès complimented my outfit and I wasn’t about to put personal integrity above good fashion.

Grace, as usual, had arrived and sat at our favorite table. Her Bluetooth firmly in her ear, she obviously was speaking to someone from one of the bands she represented.

We’d met through my husband “officially” but I knew who she was long before then. My father wasn’t exactly always on the path of the straight and narrow. Growing up in Nevada, I knew all the nefarious types of characters including Mafia figures, gangsters and many of the members of the Motorcycle Club that had guarded our town of Birch Tree.

Grace Cox was the younger sister of Desmond “Dizzy” Cox, President of the Lucifer’s Saints MC. Although she tried her best to distance herself from her brother and her family, we both knew how hard it was to separate a blood bond—and no one could escape their demons just by leaving home.

Her daughter attended USC and most of the bands she represented resided in L.A. and Las Vegas.

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