Money Never Sleeps: A Millionaire Wives Club Novel

Welcome to Millionaire Wives Club

Season Two

The Club

The evening sun settled over Manhattan's Lincoln Center as the three reality stars of Millionaire Wives Club walked the red carpet at Jacque Chanel's premiere fashion affair. The ladies' hips swayed as they passed paparazzi, and millions of dollars in rare jewels, ultrachic sheath dresses, and -diamond--encrusted Stewart Weitzman dream stilettos graced their bodies.

They each thought fuck last season. To hell with the way the audience reveled in what the camera revealed: that beneath their posh facades lay emotional bag ladies, dressed in a collection of heartache, uncertainty, and decades of bullshit.

This was a new season, a new script, and a renewed chance to prove to the world that they'd finally gotten it together.

"Ladies!" An E! News reporter rushed over to them, hoping to snag a quick interview before they entered the fashion show. "You all look lovely tonight," he said as they stopped and faced him.

The ladies smiled and their eyes shone at the flattery. "Thank you," they said simultaneously.

"Can you tell us what to expect from the second season of Millionaire Wives Club?" He pointed the mic toward the woman to his right. "May we start with you-?"

"Milan Starks!" A voice rose above the buzzing crowd and caused everyone's eyes to dart in search of its origin. Before their eyes could find the source, two women appeared before the cast, grabbed unexpected hugs from each of them, and then grinned as if they were all -long--lost relatives. The women were dressed exactly alike, from their matching -fire--red and curly -lace--front wigs to their red sequin short sets. The only difference between them was that one appeared at least ten years older than the other.

"Look at these bitches here!" The older woman snapped her fingers in a -z--motion, as the short set she wore glimmered in the fading sunlight. "You know y'all stay sharp as shit." She popped her lips. "But y'all crazier than a motherfucker." She looked into the camera and nodded for emphasis. "Are we on TV?"

"Ah, yes," the reporter said. "Yes, we're live."

"Oh, shit." The woman bounced her shoulders. "I'm Trena and Uptown's in the hiz'zouse!" she said into the camera. "And this is my - daughter--in--law, Roz!" She pulled the other woman close.

Roz smiled and shouted. "Hey, Money! I miss you, baby. Thank you for always holding it down! Don't even sweat those C.O.s! You got three hundred months left on your stint, and you'll be home soon."

"Where is security?" Milan mumbled to her costar, Chaunci Morgan, who stood next to her.

"Excuse me," the reporter said. "Do you two ladies know the cast of Millionaire Wives Club personally?
Excerpted from Money Never Sleeps by Tu-Shonda Whitaker. Copyright © 2011 by Tu-Shonda Whitaker. Excerpted by permission of One World/Ballantine, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.