Chapter 286: The Appreciation Society

The leather seats of the black town car were suspiciously cool against my back, a blatant lie in the sweltering Miami furnace. Outside, neon-lit streets bled into a psychedelic smear – the tranquilizer dart before the main event. Miami’s peace is always a setup. I pulled out my phone, bracing myself.

The Appreciation Society. Christ. A name so dripping with faux innocence it belonged on a cult recruitment pamphlet left in a dentist’s waiting room. Subtext stacked thicker than the divorce papers lurking in half these women’s futures.

The notification badge: 147. One hundred and forty-seven reasons to regret ever teaching them how to use a group chat. A veritable hive of bored, wealthy hornets, buzzing with unresolved tension and unlimited data plans.

The Appreciation Society

Vivienne Carter: Ladies, it’s been three days. Has anyone heard from our mysterious friend?

Translation: Vivienne Carter, vintage wine villain, recent divorcée (his loss, obviously, probably couldn’t handle the emerald-eyed death glare). Profile pic: A headshot so icy it could freeze champagne. Collects grudges like rare Bordeaux.

Anastasia Romanov: Nothing. Starting to think we imagined him

Pic: A Fabergé egg, because subtle...

Gabrielle: You don’t imagine a man like that. Trust me, I’ve tried.

Celeste Dubois: Perhaps he’s busy with the bride-to-be? Amanda’s been suspiciously quiet (Celeste: Gallery owner, ’art connoisseur’)

Amanda Wells: Not a bride anymore, remember? And yes, I’ve been... occupied (Amanda: Recently fired fiancée, current walking around my penthouse only in my big shirt on.

Ashby Rousseau: Occupied? Do tell!

Amanda Wells: A lady doesn’t kiss and tell

Vivienne Carter: Since when are you a lady? 😏

Burn from the Ice Queen. Points deducted for predictable cruelty; points added for accuracy.

Sophia: Can we discuss how Madison just disappeared with him? That little heiress played us all (Sophia: Museum something-or-other. )

Madison Torres: I didn’t play anyone. I just moved faster than you old bitches

Anastasia Romanov: OLD? I’m 31!

Madison Torres: Like I said... 😘

There she is. Madison Torres. My Queen and actual chaos agent, walking switchblade in a ballgown. I can Imagine she had a deliberate smirk, eyes holding enough wit to defuse a bomb or start one, while she typed that. The only one here not auditioning for a reality show reject reel. Played them? Danced. Around their slow, predictable asses. Respect.

Vivienne Carter: Has anyone managed to decode what Château Margaux pairs best with disappointment? Asking for a friend who’s been waiting days.

Anastasia Romanov: Vivienne, darling, at least you have wine. I’ve been staring at this Fabergé egg trying to remember why I collect beautiful, untouchable things.

Darling, the egg’s a metaphor. For you. Untouchable, cold, and ultimately hollow. Deep, Anastasia. Real deep wanting to be touched.

Gabrielle: Ladies, we’re being dramatic. He’s probably handling actual business, not the kind we were hoping for.

Celeste Dubois: Gabrielle, your optimism is adorable. How’s your husband’s pharmaceutical conference?

Gabrielle: Extended. Again. Barcelona must be fascinating this time of year.

ZING! Celeste, unexpectedly vicious. Gabrielle’s optimism crumbling faster than a cookie in milk. Barcelona? Yeah, fascinating anatomy, I bet.

Amanda Wells: At least your husband has an excuse for absence, Hahahahaha!

Vivienne Carter: Amanda! By the way we thought you’d fallen off the earth.

Amanda Wells: Just off the grid. Renovating my life choices.

Ashby Rousseau: Is that what we’re calling it? I need to renovate immediately.

Sophia: My museum is hosting a private exhibition on "transformation in modern art." Suddenly feeling very inspired.

I scanned the list. Vivienne, the Emerald Ice Queen. Anastasia, the Fabergé Faker. Gabrielle, the Pharma Princess. Celeste, the Gallery Ghoul. Amanda, my new woman. Ashby, the Jet-Set Jester. Sophia, the Museum Maven (of Misery). And Madison. The Lone Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing. My kind of trouble.

Time to poke the hornet’s nest. With a flamethrower.

Eros: Ladies, forgive the silence. Miami has been... educational.

The typing indicators didn’t just light up. They detonated. A digital supernova of desperate interest. Like dropping a steak into a shark tank during Black Friday doorbusters.

Vivienne Carter: Educational? We’re all eager students here.

Anastasia Romanov: I’ve always excelled at private tutoring.

Madison Torres: Down, girls. He’s been handling actual business.

Madison, playing defense? Or just marking territory? The swagger suggests she’s doing both.

Celeste Dubois: Madison, possessive doesn’t suit you. Though that dress at the Setai certainly did.

Celeste, attempting a catfight. Madison wouldn’t suit? Darling, Madison could wear a potato sack and make it look like couture warfare.

Gabrielle:

Ashby Rousseau: Recovering? I’ve been reliving it. Particularly that conversation about French wine versus Italian

Sophia: That wasn’t about wine and we all know it.

Finally, Sophia states the obvious. Gold star for Captain Obvious.

Amanda Wells: Subtlety is dead in this chat, isn’t it?

Vivienne Carter: Subtlety is for people who aren’t clear about what they want

Eros: And you’re all very clear? Let’s see how deep this rabbit hole goes.

Anastasia Romanov: Crystal. Like the vodka I’m currently not drinking alone.

’Not alone’ implies a phone. Or a cat. Either way, tragic.

Celeste Dubois: It’s past midnight. Perfect time for clarity.

The chat flowed now, a masterpiece of haute couture horniness. Every word draped in silk, hiding the naked ambition underneath.

They could talk about ’drinks’ and ’art’ and ’vodka’ all night, but the subtext was screaming: ME. PICK ME. LOOK AT MY STUFF/MONEY/AVAILABILITY.

It was a high-end silent auction, and I was the only lot.

Gabrielle: My schedule is surprisingly open tomorrow. Barcelona extended again

Ashby Rousseau: Paris can wait. Miami has better... views.

Celeste Dubois: Madison, that greedy girl, she’s been hoarding him

Madison Torres: Can you blame me?

Amanda Wells: She’s sharing the wealth with me

Ashby Rousseau: Speaking of sharing... are you available tonight?

Vivienne Carter: Is that an invitation?

Anastasia Romanov: I have vodka and a penthouse. Just saying

Gabrielle: I have champagne and a yacht

Celeste Dubois: I have wine and my gallery. Very private after hours

Amanda Wells: I have his attention. Sorry ladies

Madison Torres: WE have his attention

Ashby Rousseau: This is becoming territorial

No shit, Sherlock. The claws are unsheathed, the Louboutins are sharpened, and the chat is moving faster than crypto during a pump-and-dump scheme.

Sophia: Can we discuss how he just vanished after basically making every woman at that party consider divorce?

Vivienne Carter: Already divorced, so I was ahead of the curve

Anastasia Romanov: My husband’s in Moscow. What he doesn’t know...

Gabrielle: Mine thinks I’m at a spa retreat

It was like a The Confessional Corner. Vivienne: Smug Divorcée. Anastasia: Adulterer. Gabrielle: Pathological Liar. It’s a Real Housewives reunion, minus the reunion budget.

Eros: Ladies, you flatter me.

They pounced like starving hyenas on a T-bone.

Celeste Dubois: We’re trying to do more than flatter you

Ashby Rousseau: Much more

Amanda Wells: So much more

Madison Torres: Eros, stop encouraging them!

Eros: Why? This is entertaining

Because watching wealthy, bored women unravel is better than pay-per-view. And mildly terrifying. Like watching a powder keg wearing mink coats.

Vivienne Carter: We could be more entertaining in person.

Anastasia Romanov: Group meeting? For drinks?

Gabrielle: "Drinks"

Sophia:

Celeste Dubois: My gallery has an excellent wine collection

Ashby Rousseau: When?

Amanda Wells: Now?

ARIA’s voice came through my earbuds: "Master, you’re literally creating a feeding frenzy. These women are about to form a mob."

Madison Torres: ABSOLUTELY NOT. It’s late and he’s busy

Vivienne Carter: Busy doing what?

Madison Torres: Business things

Anastasia Romanov: Is that what we’re calling it now?

Gabrielle: I have business too. Urgent business

Celeste Dubois: My business is very pressing

Sophia: Critical business that requires immediate attention

Eros: Ladies, as much as I’d love to attend to all your... business... tonight isn’t possible

Vivienne Carter: 😔

Anastasia Romanov: When then?

Ashby Rousseau: Tomorrow?

Gabrielle: I’ll clear my schedule

Amanda Wells: I already have

Madison Torres: You vultures!

Celeste Dubois: Says the girl who’s been monopolizing him

Sophia: Sharing is caring, Madison

Sophia: The museum’s closed tomorrow. I could give a private tour.

Madison Torres: You’re all shameless.

Vivienne Carter: Says the woman who marked territory at the party like a cat with Chanel.

Amanda Wells: Can we discuss how Madison literally created a human barrier?

Madison Torres: Strategic positioning.

Anastasia Romanov: Is that what we’re calling it?

I watched them banter, these women who moved in circles where money was assumed and power was currency. Each one successful, sophisticated, and apparently bored out of their minds with their current situations.

Eros: You all seem to know each other well.

Celeste Dubois: Miami’s elite circles are surprisingly small. We’ve all been to the same terrible charity galas.

Vivienne Carter: Supported the same questionable causes.

Ashby Rousseau: Avoided the same boring husbands.

Gabrielle: Speaking of avoiding you’re avoiding the earlier conversation... is anyone free tomorrow evening?

Sophia: Depends on the invitation.

Anastasia Romanov: I could be persuaded.

Eros: Celeste, didn’t you mention your gallery has exceptional wine?

Celeste Dubois: I might have mentioned the ’61 Château Margaux. Among other exceptional things.

Vivienne Carter: Using wine as bait? I respect the strategy.

Amanda Wells: Is this happening?

Madison Torres: No.

Ashby Rousseau: Yes.

Gabrielle: Absolutely.

Sophia: The gallery is very private after hours, isn’t it, Celeste?

Celeste Dubois: Extremely. Discretion is guaranteed.

Anastasia Romanov: Nine tomorrow?

Eros: If Celeste is hosting...

Celeste Dubois: Consider it confirmed. The Dubois Gallery, 9 PM. I’ll arrange everything.

Vivienne Carter: "Everything" is doing a lot of work in that sentence.

Madison Torres: This is a terrible idea.

Amanda Wells: The best ideas usually are.

Ashby Rousseau: I’ll bring champagne. The kind that makes good decisions optional.

Gabrielle: Optional decisions are my specialty.

The taxi pulled up to my destination as the chat continued its delicate dance between propriety and proposition.

Gabrielle: Already planning my outfit

Ashby Rousseau: Or lack thereof

Amanda Wells: Subtle, Ashby

Sophia: Who needs subtle?

Madison Torres: I hate all of you

Vivienne Carter: No, you don’t. You just hate sharing

Anastasia Romanov: Poor little heiress, having to share her man

Sophia Chen: Should we discuss dress code more?

Anastasia Romanov: Sophisticated with potential for less.

Vivienne Carter: That’s every outfit if you’re creative.

Celeste Dubois: My gallery, my rules. Come as you are, leave as you want to be.

Madison Torres: That’s not even subtle.

Amanda Wells: Nothing about this chat is subtle.

Eros: Tomorrow then. Try not to terrorize Miami in the meantime.

Ashby Rousseau: No promises.

Gabrielle: None at all.

I laughed.

Eros: Ladies, until tomorrow. Final warning again: Try to behave

Gabrielle: Where’s the fun in that?

Celeste Dubois: My gallery, 9 PM. I’ll have the Château Margaux ’61

Vivienne Carter: Pulling out the big guns

Anastasia Romanov: This is war

Madison Torres: You’re all ridiculous

Amanda Wells: Ridiculously excited

Ashby Rousseau: À demain, mon cher

Sophia: What she said, but in English

I closed the chat as I entered the hotel, already seeing another dozen messages appearing. These women operated on a different level — where desire was currency and discretion was assumed rather than requested.

"Master," ARIA observed, "you’ve just arranged a gathering of eight wealthy, women at a private venue after hours. You’re planning an orgy, aren’t ya?"

"Noticed that, did you?"

"The subtext in that chat could kill someone. They’re being subtle like a Lamborghini is subtle."

Tomorrow night at the Dubois Gallery would be the most interesting evening of their lives.

But tonight, I had vultures to destroy and evidence to deliver to a certain lady. The Appreciation Society would have to appreciate patience.

Though based on that chat, patience wasn’t their strong suit.

Time to meet her!