Page 41 of The Marriage Narrative
Being on high alert all the time had to be bad for her heart. She felt like a damn deer in the headlights, trapped and unable to see where she was going. “Okay. I’m fine.”
He guided her toward their mock bar station. Three of them had been set up in a triangle formation—Wylie on their right and Lulie parallel across the room. Inspired by Jordan’sEstranged Sonbackstory, the structured activity of the day was practicing their technique and preparing drinks during dinner.
Jordan had told her he’d always known he wanted to start his own business. He’d narrowed down his industry options while working two part-time jobs in college—bartending at a club called Red Warren and being a barista at a coffee shop called Salty Sea & Co.
Months from now, he’d film a sit-down interview to fully explain his backstory for narration purposes. Why they didn’t do it all in the same day was beyond Zinnia.
Naturally, he was her partner. Lulie’s instructor was already teaching her how to make martinis, and Wylie’s literally had his hands full with the vacuum on standby.
Seeing the twins together never failed to make her blood pressure skyrocket. She tried to feel past the paranoia of getting something else smashed in her face but only found nerves as shattered as the next wave of tinkling glass now covering the floor.
Zinnia rubbed her temples.
“Sorry. We didn’t have any plastic cups for him to practice with.”
“Oh, plastic must be a poor people thing, I guess.”
“Please don’t do that.” Jordan slid in front of her. He crossed his arms and leaned against the bar. “What would you like to make? Don’t worry, they’re all dupes. I know you don’t drink so I made sure we didn’t have real alcohol at any of the stations.”
“Oh. Thank you.” She’d hit her lifetime limit well before college. “The most colorful drink possible. Preferably one that can be a real mocktail later?”
“Ah, the lady seeks a challenge.”
She snorted. “Nerd.”
“Just wait until you see me wearing my glasses.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You would’ve never married me if we’d met in high school.”
“Yeah, but only because I was too busy being a delinquent. Although if you’d asked, I would’ve let you take me to prom. And mini golf. And the arcade. You give good date.”
He chuckled. “Never heard it phrased like that, but thanks.”
Every night was date night in the bungalow. They made (or ordered) dessert and spent quality time together doing whatever they wanted—board games, watching TV, and once, they even played open-air badminton. Sometimes, they made a blanket pallet on the floor and just talked until she could barely keep her eyes open. And then he always walked her to her bedroom door because he was a perfect, nerdy gentleman.
GRACE:But isn’t his room directly across the hall?
ZINNIA:SO? LMAO LET ME HAVE THIS
The only downside was they were essentially trapped. Zinnia christened that twistVoyeur’s Revenge—a loophole that classified any date night activitiesoutsidethe bungalow as fair game. Thesecond they left, no matter where they tried to go (including leaving the estate), they’d behuntedtrailed by the overnight camera pods stationed on their porch. No sneaking out for a cute little moonlit stroll on their watch.
Another crash and shatter. Zinnia took a deep, even breath.
“I’ll teach you how to make rainbow drinks,” Jordan said in a low, soothing tone. “They’re pretty easy but require layering and blending. We’ll go through each color combination first, then we can create yours from scratch.”
She nodded. Only six hours until they were back in the bungalow. She could do this.
She could do this.
Chapter 12
Zinnia
Jesus help her,she wasn’t going to make it. Wylie had managed to break six more glasses in two minutes. There was no way he hadn’t been trained in psychological warfare.
This had to be theworstgroup activity so far. She didn’t think anything would ever surpass baking knockoff Girl Scout Cookies in the kitchen, inspired by former troop leader Lulie. A room full of sharp knives and heavy stoneware with people who thought tripping someone was the height of humor—Zinnia’s nerves had been shredded down to nubs that day.
Now, full-ondreadwas sitting right between her hunched shoulders, puppeting her body into a defensive stance.
While Jordan patiently explained how each liquid had a differing density, Zinnia did her best to dutifully follow along. She was trying to memorize the specifics for each bottle…and then he began rolling up his sleeves, one at a time, revealing his forearms.
