as the fact that my wedding dress is discarded on the ground in clear view of the door. It doesn't take a genius to put the pieces together, unconventional though they may be.
The bedroom is a separate room from the main part of the suite, but the doors are sliding doors that at this moment are pulled wide open, disappearing into the walls on either side. So from the bed, the three of us have a clear view of the door that leads into the hallway, and the attendant has a clear view of us.
Soren slips him a few hundred dollar bills and whispers something in his ear. The man nods quickly and flees the room as if he just witnessed a mob hit.
Soren rolls the cart the rest of the way to us and parks it next to the side of the bed Griffin is on. No one makes any comment about the fact that the attendant saw this or that the groom just paid him off to keep what he saw to himself. In fact, I'm sure that besides the attendant, I'm the only one uncomfortable about it.
Lids are removed from the food to reveal club sandwiches and fries, and a platter with several pieces of our wedding cake on it. Soren passes me a soft drink and a plate with a sandwich and fries, and lets Dayne and Griffin get their own.
I barrel through the food like a twelve year old who has yet to learn table manners. It may not be the food I picked for the wedding, but after not having a full meal since lunch, it seems like the best thing I've ever eaten.
“All right, Eliza,” Soren says. “Will I need to pay for etiquette lessons as well?”
I roll my eyes at the reference. “The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain,” I recite.
“Smart ass.”
I pass my empty plate to him, and he trades with a piece of the lemon cake and a fork. I let out a moan of pleasure as the moist tangy sweet cake slips past my lips.
“My God this is incredible,” I say. Without even thinking I offer a bite of my cake to Griffin. He has a piece of his own, I'm just so thrilled with this cake I want to share it. His intense blue gaze is locked on mine as he slowly chews and swallows.
Then he feeds me a bite of the cake from his plate. And now that we've accidentally done this feeding-each-other-cake wedding ritual, I feel compelled to turn and offer a bite of my cake to Dayne. Everyone has gotten strangely solemn in this moment as if this is the most serious wedding ritual any human being has ever participated in. Dayne takes the offered cake from my fork, then feeds me a bite from his own plate.
Then the four of us sit and stare at each other. I don't feed Soren. I did that at the reception.
All of us have shared cake. All of us have consummated whatever this is together. And there was a witness to this union who scampered off two or three hundred dollars richer for a two minute delivery.
No one speaks another word as we finish our cake, then Soren takes plates and glasses, and rolls the cart out into the hallway to be collected later.
“Put on your bikini, we're going to the pool,” he says when he returns as if the moment we all just shared never happened.
I should complain of fatigue and beg for sleep but I am way too amped up to sleep. Besides, Soren isn't done with me yet.
22
Griffin
After hours swim
The Present.
It's a little after one in the morning when the three of us escort Livia to the pool. Despite the things we just did with her and to her, she's still such an innocent lamb, having no true idea of the wolves who surround her, or our intentions. She is far too easily led through the forest.
Soren plans everything to the tiniest detail, and we've known for weeks exactly how this day and night would go. What seems like a spontaneous after hours swim is anything but. She's wearing a black bikini and cover up as we guide her down the hallway having just gotten off the elevator.
How quickly she's moved from the innocence of the white dress to the sin of the black bikini. I can't say I'm complaining.
The three of us wear swim trunks, but mine and Dayne's are mostly for