"I'm in Trinidad and Tobago."
"Trinidad and Tobago? Where on earth is that?"
"It's an island in the Caribbean."
"Ooh, fashionista, darling! You're in the Caribbean? What, are you on the way to St. Barts?"
"No, I'm not on the way to St. Barts. I'm…" I pause. "To be fair, I don't actually know where I'm going."
"Have you been kidnapped? Why didn't you?—"
"No!" I cut him off. "I'm here on a work trip with Liam, and?—"
"Oh. So, where are you right now?"
"I'm in bed."
"Please tell me he's not lying next to you."
"No, of course not!"
"Okay. I was about to say."
"He's in the living room on the couch."
"In the living room? So, what? You're staying in the same place?"
"Yeah, supposedly the hotel didn’t have any other rooms."
"Yeah, right," he says. "You just wanted to bow chicka bow wow."
"Well, that's not happening."
"Oh, shit, so you'repissedpissed."
"Romeo, of course, I'm pissed! He made a deal with Dad to marry me and didn't even tell me or ask me or?—"
"I mean, I'm not trying to sound like a bitch here, Elisabetta, but wouldn't you rather marry the hunky boss who you wanna fuck than some old dude with a wrinkly, shriveled penis that's like two inches when it's hard?"
“What?" Why does he always ask these creepy questions?
"I'm just saying. Who would you rather marry?"
"I'd rather marry the love of my life. I'd rather?—"
"Girlfriend, fairy tales don't exist. I hate to break that to you."
"Well, it exists for Skye."
"Skye got lucky, and let's be real, she barely knows that man. Let's talk in five years and see where they are."
"They'll be madly in love with a billion kids, and I'll be their nanny or something."
"You'll be a nanny?" He bursts out laughing then. "I don't see that lasting long."
"Neither do I, but…" I start laughing myself. "You know what? I was so upset when I called you, and I'm still upset, but I'm starting to see the humor in the situation."
"I mean, sometimes you have to make lemonade out of lemons, darling."