My Big Fat Fake Honeymoon - Lauren Landish Page 0,56
the scene in reception and how Lorenzo seemed to just appear out of nowhere and what I did. “So, yeah,” I wrap up, blushing furiously. “We had a dinner date last night and then went kayaking today too.”
“And you did all of this because of Emily?” Vi asks. “What the fudge, Abi?”
“You know, you’re cute when you don’t curse in front of your daughter even though you know she’s going to hear it ten thousand times before she turns five?”
Vi cocks an eyebrow, and I’m reminded that this woman is at least partly Italian and has a temper to match. “Abi?”
“Okay, okay,” I admit, ashamed. “Yeah. I mean, you remember how we were.”
“Of course I remember,” Violet, who also got her fair share of unwanted attention from Emily, says. “She was nearly Regina George incarnate. But my God, Abi, why would you let her get you into such a bad situation? You’re an adult now, and you only gave her more power by doing that!”
“I know, I—”
“How long have we known each other, huh?” Violet fumes, her eyes narrowing. “You’re supposed to be the strong one.”
She lets me think a second and then continues, “That being said, she’s pretty much Voldemort with a vagina, so I got your back.”
That was a good one, but I can’t even laugh right now. This is too serious. “So you’re not upset?”
Violet blinks, then grins. “Upset? I’d be a hypocrite if there ever were one. Just relax. If Lorenzo’s good with it, maybe something good will even come out of it.” I can see the light of hope burning brightly in her eyes as she lifts her perfectly shaped brows at me. Even a mess, Violet is never truly far-gone and probably had an Archie-scheduled brow wax within the last few days. “I’d love to have you in my family the way I’m in yours.”
“It’s not like that, Vi,” I assure her. “I mean, he’s great . . . like, have you seen him?” I fan my face, both of us aware of Lorenzo’s hotness. “But he’s intense.”
“What, Abs? What’s that look on your face mean?” Violet pries, and I never could hold back from telling her anything.
“He said he’s ‘feeling’ things,” I admit, and Vi’s eyes widen to dinner plate size, “but I think what he’s feeling is horny. I don’t want to do something knowing he’ll get bored and ditch me soon. Hell, maybe even here, but at the latest when we get home. I need to just focus on work. This is too important.”
Violet chews at her lip, thinking. Finally, her words come haltingly. “So, you’re in paradise with a guy who wants to fudge you—wait, that sounds like a totally different thing and is not what I mean . . .”
“Fuck, Vi. You can say it. Carly’s asleep again.” I point to the curled-up baby in Vi’s arms, where I can see that her eyes are closed softly and her lips are pursed up like she’s kissing the air.
“Aw, that’s my girl,” she coos, brushing Carly’s hair on her forehead. To me, she continues, “Where was I? Oh, yeah . . . paradise, a hot guy who wants to fuck you, who you want to fuck, with a bit of sexy roleplaying about being newlyweds on a honeymoon giving you permission to do all sorts of crazy things, and then you can come back to your busy life a bit worse for wear in the best way.”
“When you say it like that,” I tell her, rolling my eyes. Feeling vulnerable, I confess, “I don’t want to get hurt, or mess up the wedding deal, or hell, I’ll admit it . . . I don’t want Emily to find out and have new ammo against me.”
“I can’t believe I’m telling you, of all people, this, but don’t be so serious, girl. Have some fun, live a little, and get laid.” She waves her hand like after those assignments, I should keep going with the crazy adventures.
“Really?” I ask, surprised by her advice.
“Well, and make sure you show Emily that you’re doing amazing. Rub her nose in it a bit. And then tell her that you’re on your honeymoon and not playing these competitive games of who’s more in love or having wilder sex or has the better life.”
“That’s exactly what’s happening! How’d you know that?”
“Because I figure Emily is still Emily. And a Queen Bee-wannabe doesn’t change her stripes.”
“You’re really good with this Lorenzo thing?” I ask again, wanting to be