Page 30 of His Weekend Girl
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The atmosphere on the last night of the weekend soiree was electric. As guests noshed on food, and the open bar flowed freely, Trixie finally felt like she belonged.
Sylvia let her borrow a V-neck flowy colorful dress and she put her hair up into a pouf. Sylvia’s makeup artist did her face, and Sylvia personally adorned Trixie with a mixture of real and costume jewelry. She felt like a princess getting ready for the ball.
It was what Cinderella and all of those Disney princesses felt like.
Maybe Grant was her Prince Charming. Maybe he was going to make all of her dreams come true.
Still, Trixie didn’t want to get too excited. There was still a lot of confusion of how everything was going to work. She didn’t live too far from Grant, so breaking the lease wasn’t the issue. But she knew her quirks. She knew how much she loved to watch true crime documentaries and Black indie films on Tubi. She also loved to blast her music at obscene levels and pretend she actuallycouldsound like Whitney Houston.
Grant would be okay with all that?
No, you’re not going to get into your head and ruin this. Trixie had to calm herself down. Tonight was the night Sylvia and Jack were going to formally announce her engagement to Grant. Trixie would worry about her future later.
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“Where’s Trixie?”
Grant could already tell Charlotte was on the sauce. She was normally stoic, to the point of being frozen, and now she was bubbly and laughing at Rex’s stupidest jokes. Grant nursed his whiskey and stared straight ahead into the moonlight. He didn’t believe in premonitions but something told him the night wasn’t going to end well.
“She’s mingling with guests,” Grant motioned ahead and Charlotte turned in that direction.
A small, blinding rage filled her as she recognized one of Sylvia’s gowns on Trixie. They became that close where they were borrowing clothes from each other?
The slinky pink number clung to Trixie’s curves and showed her bare back. She caught many men sneaking a peek in her direction. Grant, meanwhile, looked like a proud partner as he relished the attention Trixie received.
“How lovely,” Charlotte’s voice cracked and Grant briefly acknowledged her.
Grant recognized the nastiness before it had a chance to form. “Don’t ruin my night, please.”
Charlotte scoffed. “Ruin? Why wouldIruinyournight withyourfiancée, Graaaaaaaaant?” Her voice became louder towards the end of the sentence.
“Stop it and stop it now,” Grant’s voice was low and he stood in front of her. “It was bad enough you were a Peeping Tom earlier, and now this.” Charlotte’s mouth gaped open. “Don’t. Trixie didn’t see and she still doesn’t know but I damn sure did. You stood much longer than someone whoaccidentallywalked in on a couple.”
“For your information, I was about to save your ass!” Charlotte defended. “I’m trying to protect you, Grant!”
“No, you’re trying to ruin me and you’ve done a pretty damn good job of that for the past decade.” He replied. “let’s not forget who dumped who here?”
“I found out info about your preciousTracithat you should know about,” Charlotte smirked.
“Like what?” Grant challenged.
Charlotte saw Trixie come in their direction and she smiled at her. “You’ll see.” She noticed Trixie was carrying a small plate of food and walked up to Grant.
“I brought you a little something, baby,” Trixie stuck her fork into the lobster, and fed Grant, “mmm…you like that, baby?”
“Delicious,” Grant kissed her.
Charlotte stared down at the food. She recognized every portion being something that would have made her gain a ton of weight. “Grant lets you eat that food?”
“Yes,” Trixie snacked on cheese, “why not?”
“I just thought he wanted you to watch your weight,” Charlotte explained.
Trixie was about to take off her bangles and fight that woman. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t be mad, baby,” Grant snuck another bite, “Charlotte is just hungry.” He wiped his mouth. “If she gained ten pounds, she would forfeit ten thousand a month from the alimony. You see, when they married, my brother had her sign a prenup that would guarantee her seventy thousand a month for the rest of her life, if they divorced. But if she gained any weight over ten pounds, she would have to forfeit that money.” Grant took a bite of his steak. “Which is why I don’t care if you want truffle mac n’ cheese, cheesy garlic bread, and a fat-ass ice cream sundae to give you a big back and church van to hold you.” He smiled at Charlotte. “Because I’m not a vain motherfucker.”
