Page 41 of Lucky Laces

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She jabs at the buttons, turns on the TV I’d forgotten was there.

“And that has to do with a bribe?”

“Yup.”She loads up a streaming service then turns and pours two glasses of wine, passing one over to me before queueing up the show.

And I start to get it.

Christ.Anything but this.

Before I can protest, though, she sinks down next to me and picks up an apple slice.“I’m about to indoctrinate you into the glorious world of the90 Day Fiancéfranchise.”

And she smiles so widely that I can’t stop her from hitting play.

Then my stomach rumbles, and I decide to put myself out of my misery by devouring the tray of food.

Then…I sort of like the show?

And I sort of hate myself for it?

Especially when she pauses the second episode before it starts and asks, “What did you think?”

“Thisisreally good wine,” I hedge.

Laughter in the air.“Good thing the earthquake didn’t ruin it, right?”She leans in, picks up a cookie and breaks it in half, passing me the larger chunk before sitting back against the headboard.“You want to know the best part?”

I want to know everything about this woman.

“Yeah,” I murmur.

She picks up the bottle of wine and tops me up.“The more of this you drink, the better the show gets.”

Then I’m laughing.

And she’s pressing play.

And…

She’s not wrong.

It does get better the more you drink.

Or maybe it’s just that she’s beside me.

Thirteen

Diana

I’m warm.

No, I’m hot, almost scorching, sweat having gathered between my breasts, behind my knees, my elbows.

Like I fell asleep on the beach on a blistering summer day and the sun had the audacity to move, to burn my unprotected skin?—

Only it’s not the shifting grains of sand that are cushioning my body.

It’s the surprisingly comfortable mattress in my guest room.

Oh, and Hudson too.

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