Click here to Download Good Rich People PDF Book by Eliza Jane Brazier having PDF Size 2.7 MB and No of Pages279.
I select a gray cashmere top and gray cashmere bottoms. Not the same shade of gray, because I don’t want to look like an insane person. I accessorize with the exact right amount of diamonds and the hot pink gator Kelly bag I won in a game with Margo. I stop to check my reflection in the full-length mirror. Sometimes I am scared by how beautiful I am. Every inch of me is buffed and primed.
Good Rich People PDF Book by Eliza Jane Brazier
|Name of Book||Good Rich People|
|PDF Size||2.7 MB|
|No of Pages||279|
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My face hangs exactly right. My muscles are taut and organized. I am scared because I don’t want to lose it: the shaped nails, the tip of my nose, the sapphire glow of my eyes. I am sad because I want everyone to see it, but I don’t want to see them. I want them to know how lucky I am but I don’t want them to have access to me. It’s a real problem.
He loosens his tie. “What a woman.” He strides to the kitchen and wraps his arms around me, like tentacles. I can smell him. Graham smells nothing like he looks. You would expect him to have a crisp, clean scent—newly minted cash soaked in lemon verbena. Instead, he smells like hot testosterone, like something feral, like the kind of man who would hack down the door with an ax to save kittens from a burning building.
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I don’t know what to do with his smell. There is nothing more confusing than being sexually attracted to your husband. He steps back, fixes my hair. He hates when my part is uneven. Then he leans in close so he can whisper in my ear, “If you think this is going to make up for what you did, you have another think coming.” And that night, we lie down in bed together, like we do every night and we will every night forever.
He lets me touch him for the first twenty minutes, stroke his hair, follow the tight, muscled lines of his body with my fingers, smell the musky scent that oozes from his neck. Then he scoots away, gets down to the business of sleeping. I slide to my side of the bed to worry. His breathing pattern slows as I gaze up at the ceiling, the tiny light fixtures like pinpricks.
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My stomach churns with thoughts of the game, my turn. I don’t want to play. There has to be some way out of it. Maybe I can prove myself to Graham another way. Maybe I can make him love me, finally. He whimpers in his sleep. He always has bad dreams. Almost every night, a light squeal escapes his lips; his eyelids flicker. I used to ask him what he dreamed about. “You were crying,” I would tell him.
“You were crying in your sleep.” But he always claimed not to remember. “I never dream anything,” he said. “I never have dreams.” I brush the soft hairs on his neck to comfort him. He seizes on a sigh, then goes quiet. Sometimes I ask myself why I stay. But I have known money long enough to realize that it always comes with strings attached.
And I have known the world long enough to know that at its core, it’s a game. Either you play or you are the one being played with. On our first date, he took me to dinner at Sunset Tower. After twenty minutes, he excused himself to go to the restroom and never came back. I was disappointed, but I wasn’t done. I bought a bottle of Veuve Clicquot on his tab and finished it on the roof while I plotted. Good Rich People PDF Book
I didn’t hear from him, but in my mind the game kept running. I started to see him in everything I couldn’t get, reflected in the glass at every designer store, the glint of the mansions on the hill, the roar of V12 engines. I was determined to make him mine. I found out where he lived. I stole a car, and one morning when he was pulling out of his garage, I hit him so hard, it set off his air bags.
I left the stolen car at the scene so someone else would take the blame. Then I showed up in his hospital room and tossed him the hood ornament from his busted Phantom. He smiled at me for the first time with his perfectly symmetrical dimples. “You are so fucked-up.” I sat on the edge of his hospital bed and said, “Takes one to know one.”
We were engaged in a week. It’s not every day you find someone as fucked-up as you are. Even Margo seemed to like me. I have since learned that she is her happiest, her most glittering, with the people she is most intent on destroying. Her garden is California pastoral. It’s lush and stuffed full with a variety of plants but they’re spiky, they’re desert and tough, so the garden is beautiful but treacherous. Good Rich People PDF Book
An aloe plant scrapes my leg as I follow her staff up the red tile path. At the top of the garden, where Mitsi and my friends collect, the view opens up and you can see the hills and the gray fog of downtown Beverly Hills. All the women are crammed artfully around a table with so much decor, the servers can hardly find space for the plates: There are fine china teacups and Fabergé eggs.
The egg at the center of the table is cracked open and stuffed with gold dust. Everyone is doing gold dust this year. I brought a whole case of Moët. Her staff sets it on the gift table. “Thank you so much!” Mitsi exclaims. Mitsi’s expression is always tinged with the disappointment of discovering that she has her mother’s face after all.
She is not beautiful, so everyone likes her the best and wonders about it: There’s just something about Mitsi! She’s not competition. She makes you feel like you’re winning. He crosses away from me on the porch, gazing out over the yard, past the trees, where you can see two or three stars. “She does this sometimes. Disappears. She . . . Never mind. I don’t want to bother you with my problems.” Good Rich People PDF Book Download
He shakes his shoulders wearily, then sits on one of Demi’s handcarved rocking chairs. I take the chair beside him and lose my balance briefly when the seat sways. “To be honest, it would be nice to have a break from my problems.” I don’t mean to be judgmental, but I can’t imagine his problems are very big. He probably wants a divorce but is afraid of losing a few million. Richpeople problems.
He takes a long drag of his beer, wipes his spotless lips, then says, “I’ve always tried to help people. But some don’t want to be helped. . . .” I know he is talking about Lyla, but it feels like he’s talking about me. He told me they put me here to help me. Shouldn’t I let them? But it’s not you they want to help, I remind myself. It’s Demi. Michael says I can’t trust Graham.
He’s probably right. I know that, and a month ago I never even would have entertained the idea, but I’ve been living in this guesthouse for weeks now. I’ve gotten away with everything. And I’m starting to feel like I deserve it. “Um.” I am scared to look around me. Scared to touch. It’s like I’ve walked into a police station and confessed to a crime: I want a Chanel bag. Lock me up. Good Rich People PDF Book Download
“I always wanted a black one. Just classic. And a necklace, you know, with all the little charms? Like in the movie . . .” I drift off, can’t remember the title, can’t remember my own name. Buying designer clothes is like dying a little. La petite mort, the little death. She looks at my clothes again, double-checking I can afford it. Then she shows me bags. She opens and shuts them.
She shows me their size, makes comments about the life she imagines I have. I pick the one I want, not the one I can afford. I don’t even look at the price. Then she shows me necklaces so heavy, I can feel my own importance. They drape between my breasts, hang heavy over the sweat collected there.
My shopping bags are scattered on the ground. I don’t remember dropping them. My Chanel necklace winks like it’s in on the joke. I can’t catch my breath. I see the dog even when I’m not looking. I have this weird, wet feeling that I am somehow responsible. I imagine all the different ways that I could be, contort myself in guilty shapes, like I hope to one day be held accountable. Good Rich People PDF Book Download
Graham holds me. Lyla is cold, watches me with arch eyes. She tells me the dog belongs to Margo and not to say anything. Graham scolds her, pets me like one of his animals. The guesthouse is my enclosure. I shake it off. “I’m fine. It’s just shock.” Graham helps me with my bags. He scoops up the necklace, delicately lowers it into the case, tucks it in the bag, arranges the tissue paper.
He offers to help me down the stairs. I insist I’m fine. I don’t know why I’m so upset. Demi’s body didn’t have nearly the same effect on me. I do love animals but I think it’s more than that. He shakes his head, tugs at his tie, which is like a nervous tic—he loosens it and tightens it once every ten minutes. “I can’t stand him. Patrick Bateman’s a pussy,” which wasn’t my exact criticism but I joke back anyway, “Yeah, Bambi was tough.”
He tugs the bottle of Dom out of the ice bucket and tops up his glass. I have been around a lot of drinkers but I don’t think I have ever seen someone drink so much so fast and stay so even. We’ve been here for hours and it’s only now starting to show in the loop of his movements, in his oversolicitousness, the way he bites his bottom lip. Good Rich People PDF Book Free
“You sure you don’t want a drink, darling?” He shuts one eye as he pours the dark whisky over the top. It weaves like blood through the crisp champagne. “It’s all right if you did kill her,” he swears, squeezing my hands so the whisky sloshes in the bottle. “It’s all right!” And I feel a rush of gratitude followed by a dart of uncertainty: What kind of man thinks that’s all right?
Money forgives everything, but this might be too much. “It’s beautiful,” he insists, kissing my temple. “Everything you did. Everything you had to do. It makes you so goddamn beautiful.” When I’m finished, he extracts the bottle from my fingers, places it on the bedside table. He sets me underneath him, arranges me like a doll, brushes my hair, kisses my forehead.
“You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” His voice is blue and reverent. “Can I make love to you?” He kisses my neck. “Please?” Down below, another group races through the foyer. The shots are less frequent now. I can’t see into the gallery but I’m guessing the ammo has all been taken. When the foyer is empty, I peek down, stretching to see all the gold splatters on Margo’s walls. Good Rich People PDF Book Free
It’s kind of beautiful, a work of the avantgarde. She could sell it like this: Very Bad Rich People. She could turn the whole house into a shrine. It’s finally quiet. I could go after Demi now. It would be the perfect time, but she’s with Margo. I can hear the flutter of voices from the terrace bragging about how good they were, how crazy, how dangerous, like it’s all real.
I don’t want to kill Demi. I want to see her win. Maybe this game will be enough to satisfy Graham. Maybe I don’t need to kill her after all. Maybe I was taking things too far. Maybe it’s a place I can’t come back from. I think of how I shook loading the gun for Graham. Do I really think I can point it at Demi?