My Big Fat Fake Honeymoon

Meredith’s brow raises sharply as she returns her glare to me. “I see. Thank you, Chef, for being on top of your need to meet the bride and groom’s expectations.”

Ouch. Her words to Lorenzo are less praise to him and more of a cutting remark to me.

Bride and groom’s expectations?

Small threads start to weave together. Meredith, Claire, Cole . . . and Lorenzo. How did this connection happen and why don’t I know about it? I pride myself on knowing everything that’s happening with my friends and family, and despite my mixed feelings about Lorenzo bailing on me at Courtney’s wedding but saving me today, he’s part of Violet’s family, which means I should know things, like when he’s working on the same event as the largest wedding I’ve ever done.

My own ignorance of what’s going on makes me prickly, and I step away from Lorenzo a bit. It’s probably the smart thing to do anyway because I don’t want Meredith to find out about this crazy honeymoon scheme I’ve set in motion. She would most definitely disapprove.

“Miss Andrews, please have your site checks done today. I’ll expect a full report at our meeting in the morning.”

“What meeting?” I ask, confused. I haven’t gotten a note about a meeting.

Meredith sighs, a long sound of disappointment. “The seven thirty a.m. meeting in the Serenity Lounge to go over subcontractor and vendor plans. I emailed you an updated version of the week’s agenda an hour ago. Please familiarize yourself with it . . . if that’s not too much trouble.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to bite out that anywhere called the ‘Serenity Lounge’ has probably not seen many early-morning meetings, especially when I’m betting that things here run on island time, meaning they’ll get to it when they get there.

But I don’t say any of that.

I might not have taken the Andrews money, but I’ve got Dad’s guts and it doesn’t take much for me dig down and find them. I straighten my spine, letting an air of class enter my entire being. Meredith might think she’s dealing with someone ‘lesser’, a mere schlub who’s lucky to be working with the likes of someone like her, but the reverse is equally true. I’m successful in my own right, a businesswoman who has negotiated countless service contracts and an artist whose creative work is massively desirable and irreplaceable.

“No problem,” I tell her, smiling back in a perfect imitation of Mom’s ‘you’re a fake ass society bitch’ smile. “I’ll be ready at seven thirty sharp.”

Her smile is icy, her anger at my lack of cowering palpable. I can taste her desire for me to fail so she can dance around the ruins of my career. But I’m not going to mess this up. I can’t. I won’t. It’s too important.

Meredith hums disbelievingly but then spots someone with their phone out and she goes stomping toward him, her heels clicking on the floor like someone else’s death knoll. “Excuse me, did you take an unauthorized picture?” she barks.

While Meredith is distracted, I grab Lorenzo’s hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” I hiss, pulling him toward the elevators.

He could hold his ground and end this madness, but he lets me drag him along, shove him into the elevator, and board behind him, throwing a suspicious glance back to the lobby to check whether Meredith or Emily have witnessed any of it.

I press the button for the sixth floor and the doors close, leaving us alone, dangerously alone, for the first time.

All I can think about is that somehow, despite seeing it happen twice to my family already, despite vowing I don’t know how many times that I wouldn’t pull the same shit . . . I just talked my ass into a big, fat, fake marriage situation at a time when I have much higher priorities.

Why?

Am I that burned up about Emily?

Or do I just want a reason to be with Lorenzo?

Deep breath, girl. Whatever’s happened, I’m going on a date with Lorenzo . . . with the oddest of circumstances. A date! A part of me is horrified and excited all at the same time.

And then, miraculously, my brain overrides my barren pussy. He’s working with Meredith? That needs an explanation first and foremost.

Right after I replay him whispering that line about his cock in my pussy in my ear. I clench my thighs together.

I am so fucked. And not in the good way.

Again.Chapter 5LorenzoThe sea doesn’t crash so much as lap and whisper in the air, kissing the atmosphere with a sense of salt and of calm enjoyment. Pausing to look out at the water, I’m reminded of the beautiful blues of the Mediterranean and home, although this Caribbean water is clearer once you get up close.

Too bad this island is so small. If I could take my bike out and really turn it loose around here, it would be paradise.