Page 33 of Forty, Flirty & F*cked

"I know! I know, okay? But it's handled. I have a plan."

"A plan." She pinches the bridge of her nose. "Does this plan involve telling your new husband that you're actually legally married to him?"

"Eventually!"

"Define eventually."

"When the time is right?"

"And when exactly is the right time to tell your new hubby that your drunk Vegas wedding was completely legitimate?"

My phone buzzes before I can answer. A text from Connor’s assistant Yasmin:

YASMIN: Package arrived at your new office. From Graceland Wedding Chapel. Also making concerning noises.

ME: Concerning how?

YASMIN: Like someone trapped Elvis in a box.

"Oh god." I show Kat the screen. "This can't be good."

Another text arrives:

YASMIN: Update: Box definitely playing "Can't Help Falling in Love." Also... wiggling?

ME: DO NOT OPEN IT

YASMIN: Too late. Security already scanning it.

YASMIN: Should I be concerned that it's... bedazzled?

"I have to go." I grab my purse. "Dad needs his meds sorted and?—"

"Already done." Kat holds up a perfectly organized pill container. "Unlike some people, I can manage basic tasks without accidentally acquiring a spouse."

"That's not—" My phone buzzes again.

YASMIN: Security cleared it. Contents appear to be:

1. Matching Elvis jumpsuits (sequined)

2. Musical photo frame

3. Two microphones (also sequined)

4. Note about reality show potential

5. Live doves???

"Live doves?" I whisper-shriek. "Who sends live doves through the mail?"

"Focus." Kat snaps her fingers. "You need to tell him."

"I will! Just... after the IPO. And Alex's wedding. And maybe the heat death of the universe."

Another text:

YASMIN: Doves have escaped. Now loose in office. Mr. Reeves asking why his conference room sounds like a rainforest.

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