Page 40 of The Lovers
“Fine.”Clink, we down them in unison. It’s a lukewarm tequila shot in the middle of the desert, no chaser. Absolutely disgusting. I cough, to which she responds by smacking me on the back like she’s burping a baby.
“Okay, so, MissionSexy Times,” she starts.
“We’re not giving it a name. It’s not a thing,” I spit, eyes watering from the booze. “I didn’t agree to this so it’s not happening.”
“Anyone in the group you’re into? Not Jenni—I’m working a multistep plan to get her to forgive me.”
“Do I even want to know?”
“Unlikely.” She turns her attention back out, eyes roving.
Mine betray me, ever so briefly, without even trying, by landing on Kit. Thankfully, Coco doesn’t let on that she notices.
There is a bright, clear sound of a fork tapping glass as Natalie stands in her spot near Millie. “Everybody, everybody.”
“Everybawdy,” Heather sings in her bright, clear soprano tones. The rest of the women follow with “Backstreet’s back, all right” before crumbling into a fit of laughter as one of them stands up to mime the moves from the music video. The tequila shot Coco gave me has settled in my stomach like one of the fire embers. The alcohol now buzzes through my veins, a little worker bee in Coco’s Sexy Times mission.
It’s not safe to watch Kit, but it’s all I want to do. Sitting across the table diagonally from me, she sips a glass of chardonnay. She’s twisted her hair into a loose braid, the other smaller braids that were already woven through adding texture to the plaits. A few strands tipped in pink whip around her face in the gently moving gust of wind.
“Seriously, though, I’m trying to make an announcement.” Natalie raises her voice, the pitch sharp with annoyance. She waves the half-full glass of champagne in the air. “Hello-o.”
“Is it time for strip poker?” Jenni calls out.
“I brought pin the pee-pee on Timothée Chalamet,” Maddie, the fitness influencer, says.
“You can call it a dick, Mads. Jesus Christ, are we twelve?” Lisa says, yanking Maddie to her side and planting a kiss on her cheek. She blushes, likely because of the kiss and the callout. Of the whole crew, Maddie seems to be the most vanilla, easily the quietest, both in appearance and career choice.
“Timothée Chalamet?” I question.
“Millie has a thing for gaunt guys.”
“Sean is a triathlete.”
“Variety is the spice of life.” Coco shoots up. This announcement of Natalie’s must be thethingthey have planned. “Pipe down and let our babe speak.”
My eyes drift again to Kit and I see that she’s already looking at me. She blinks, flicking her gaze away, but her face twitches to indicate she’s holding in a smile. It’s hard to tell from the glow of the lamps if she’s blushing or if it’s just the light bouncing off the pink wildflowers reflecting on her skin. When her face changes to interest, I follow her gaze over to where Coco stands behind Natalie at the head of the table, lifting, as if from thin air, two Marc Jacobs tote bags in canvas and black.
“Mills forbade the giving of gifts,” Natalie says, chagrined, which makes the presentation of these bags all the more confusing.
“What I said wasplease donate to the women’s center in DTLA instead of buying me sex toys and lingerie,” Millie corrects. “Coco hasalready outfitted me with a custom number for the wedding night.”
“Sean’s more of a nude-and-crude lover anyway,” Coco breaks in.
Millie rolls her eyes. “He’s never mad at a crotchless pantie.”
“We’re straying off topic.” Natalie redirects. “We all donated,blah blah blah, but this is a party and we came here to cut loose—even Mills—so Coco and I put our brains together—”
“And our unique brand connections,” Coco jumps in again. Natalie death glares, clearly not enjoying Coco grandstanding alongside her.
“—to create a swag bag and a little healthy competition to kick off this wedding weekend,” Natalie continues. Coco lifts the bag, parading it around the table. As a spokesmodel, she’d give young Vanna White a run for her money. “Inside is another custom Coco’s Intimates design, which can fit and flatter most body types. Edible body paint from Chef Gal Doran, which tastes better than most Michelin-starred desserts. Some spa goodies from Calendula in Beverly Hills, and a little finger vibrator called Lila that works like a dream.”
“Fab for on the go.” Coco, again, coming in with a truly bonkers sidebar.
I know she meanson the goin the sense offits easily and discreetly in a suitcase, but I can’t stop picturing someone throwing it in their purse to use while waiting in line at Starbucks, and it’s really throwing me for a loop.
“Two swag bags worth a cool three K each.” Chump change to someone like Natalie. “In order to win, we are challenging every reveler here—”
“Us included,” Coco says.
