Winter Santiaga's voice gets inside your head, and you want to know how she fares. A dark tale in every sense, and count the designer labels.
Lauren busted down the bedroom door holding party laminates in her hand. "This is it" she said, throwing herself down on the bed. "GS's birthday party is tomorrow. Every bad ass in the entertainment industry is gonna be in the jam. What's wrong with you Sasha? Maybe you didn't hear me. GS's birthday jam is tomorrow at the Palladium. LX is giving him the party. That's like chocolate ice cream, with chocolate syrup and nuts all over the place." My face was twisted 'cause all I had left was three hundred and fifty dollars. I would have to buy something special. But there was no doubt that I was going.
Life is a crap game. Or, as Santiaga would put it, life's a poker game. So the next day I laid my three hundred on the counter at Saks Fifth Avenue. I walked out with a designer shopping bag with one Calvin Klein slip dress inside. I already had the banging shoes and the shoulder bag. My nerves were on edge. I kept telling myself, this is an investment. This is an investment. In less than twenty-four hours I would emerge as the baddest bitch in the universe. Some trick at that party was gonna bankroll all of my fantasies one way or another. Just to keep it real, I had my eyes set on the big catch, GS. I knew that if I could hook him, my problems would be over. Life would be all Range Rovers, rugs, chips, cheddar and pleasure.