ONE
HERE’S THE THING about weddings.Not getting married, the wedding part.It’s never as straightforward as it should be.Getting married could be straightforward, she knew that from experience.Show up.Say your lines.Cake.As in a piece of cake, simple, not an actual cake.
Okay, so she’d admit her experience was limited.Hers was the only wedding she’d been involved with.Believe it or not, despite it being hers, she’d made very few choices.None, really.
Until now.
Her biggest responsibility?
Spoiler alert: swooping onto the stage to enact a last-minute twist.
Wait for it.The time would come.
The LA Grand Hotel’s Platinum Suite was no novelty.How many things had happened to them in that hotel?To her.To her friends.To her lover.Could he still be called that after marriage?Hmm.Hope so.
Going into her bathroom—not the master—she slid back the shower screen and turned on the water while waiting for Casanova to pick up the phone.
Ring.Ring.Ring… Zairn or Tibbs?Place your bets for—
“What did you do?”
Ah, said lover.Good.
“My ex-boyfriend just showed up,” Roxie said, her fingers retreating from the shower spray.“In LA.In my Platinum Suite.He was in my bedroom too.”
“It’s Valentine’s Day.”
Hmm, her guy was completely indifferent to Porter arriving in LA without notice.Sexy as hell.So secure, so confident in them.Was it weird that their relationship still aroused her?Beyond a level that could be classed as normal?He’d told her numerous times it would always be this way.Damn, she hoped that was true.
“I used to sleep with him, you know?Sex.Someone reminded me today that Porter and I used to do that.Him, actually, he reminded me.”
“It’s Valentine’s Day.”
“You don’t want to ask how he reminded me?”
“It’s Valentine’s Day.”
Nothing.Not a twitch.Damn, she loved this man.
“Again.”A smile slunk to her lips.“Comes around every year.Round and round again, my love.”
“You spent it with another man last year.”
Greg Hatfield, well remembered.
“And I’ll spend it with another man this year too.Tripp’s promised to dance with me all night.My ass won’t hit the couch, so he says.A promise is a promise.I’ll hold him to it.I mean, he’ll let other men hit on me, of course, your little protégé is a loyal servant.”
Again, he stayed on track.“Tell me to get my ass to your door.”
Bounced right off.
“No,” she said, boosting herself up to sit on the vanity.“We don’t need bullshit, exploitative, capitalist carnivals to celebrate our love.I celebrate it every day.”Nice, that was nice, even if she thought so herself.“That’s why I send you naked pics every day, baby.Proof of love in full living color.”
“Almost every Rouge venue holds Valentine’s events.”
“And we make a mint.Capitalism rocks.We can exploit other people, just shouldn’t let ourselves be exploited.”
“We shouldn’t?We can afford to be exploited.”