Page 136 of Consummation

“Oh yeah, I’m gooood.” She shoots me two thumbs up.

“Okay, then get your tight little ass back into the limo. Freshen up your makeup—I want you looking like you could eat a douche for breakfast, okay?—and then come out the minute you hear blaring music.”

“And stand next to you. I got it, Playboy.” She smiles and looks around. “Where are we, by the way? Who lives here?”

“No questions. Nowgo.”

Kat shoots me an adorable smile and traipses back to the limo—and the minute she closes the car door behind her, I powwow with the driver at the opened trunk.

“You want both speakers aimed at the house?” the driver asks.

“Yep,” I say. “The song’s all cued up on my phone and connected to the speakers via Blue Tooth. Just point the speakers at the house and press play on the song at my signal.”

“Yes, sir.” He holds his hand out for my phone.

“Hang on,” I say. I tap out a quick text to Henn. “In exactly three minutes, do your thing,” I write.

“You got it,” Henn replies.

“Here you go,” I say, handing my phone to the driver. “The song’s all cued up.”

Three minutes later, I grab my trusty Walmart boom box out of the trunk of the car, position myself on the porch of our host’s McMansion, make quadruple sure the ring box is still in my pocket (it is), raise the boom box over my head, and, finally, with a curt nod, cue the driver.

Here we go.

Whitney Houston begins belting out “I Will Always Love You” at full volume—so fucking loud, in fact, my molars feel like they’re one high-note away from popping out of my head.

My pulse is pounding in my ears.

My hands are shaking.

This is it. Oh my God. The love of my life is about to come outof that white limo and, hopefully, make me the luckiest man in the world.

The door to the limo opens. And there she is.Kat—my fantasy sprung to life, looking as gorgeous as ever... and utterly confused. But when Kat’s eyes land on me and she sees the CD player over my head, her face contorts with instant glee. She sprints toward me as fast as her heels will allow, her eyes glistening, her cheeks flushed. Just before she reaches me, I put my makeshift boom box on the ground and open my arms to her.

“I love you,” Kat cries, barreling into my arms. “I love you so much.”

I kiss her passionately, devouring her, lost in her—until the sound of an aggravated male voice behind us, shouting over the music, breaks us apart.

“What the fuck is this?” the voice shouts behind us. “Turn that music off and get your shit off my—”

“Garrett?” Kat blurts, obviously floored. She looks at me, her mouth agape, apparently trying to make sense of this incomprehensible ghost from her past. “This isyourhouse?”

“Kat?” Garrett yells above the blaring music, obviously as shocked to see Kat as she is to see him. “What are you doing here?”

I motion to the driver to cut the music and he does.

“Hey, Garrett Asshole Bennett,” I say smoothly, my voice cutting through the sudden silence. “Sorry for the interruption—I know you were busy inside wacking off to gangbang-bukkake-porn, but Kat and I have some important business to attend to and it requires your participation. Shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes at the outside.”

Garrett looks absolutely blindsided. “What?” he chokes out. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Frank Farmer,” I say.

Kat’s face lights up at the mention of my code name. (It should, for fuck’s sake—the woman’s only seenThe Bodyguardtwenty fucking times.)

“I believe you’re acquainted with my baby-momma, Kat?” I continue.

Garrett stares at me dumbly.

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