I glance at myself in the mirror. Red rimmed eyes and all. A mixture of despair and hopelessness guides me toward the bed. Jamie grabs me by the waist, and I latch my arms around a canopy post. Sheesh, he has strength when he wants to.
“Leave me alone!”
“No,” he growls.
“But I want to lie in bed, Jamie. Watch The Avengers. Pull out my pajamas,” I whimper, forcing my arms to hook around the post, making our tussle difficult. “I miss Evan’s rugged voice and his smile. He's a nice guy, with hard edges. I want the good. I want the bad. I wanna be spanked. I’d be dumb as a skunk to cross paths with him, hanging onto another man. He will call my bluff. Or worse, he's an eligible bachelor in a tank full of sharks.” The image of him with a size zero in his arms makes a body shattering cry roll through me.
Jamie slacks off for a second, appalled by what I just admitted. Then he gathers his wits and his strength, wraps his arms around my waist, and tugs even harder. “No! Get a hold of yourself, Reese's Pieces. You aren't some simple bitch!”
“I am a simple bitch, I wanna be Evan’s bitch!” I've dummied-down to toddler status with a potty mouth.
His nails begin to dig into my ankle. “Stop it!”
I shout, “Owe, you’re hurting me, you skank!”
“I’m sorry,” Jamie says, but he doesn’t let go.
With my arms wrapped around the railing, I beseech. “Put on your PJs too. I'll make crème puffs.”
“No! Just look delicious, and to die for this evening,” he says, attempting to wrestle me away. With every breath Jamie takes, he ends each statement with a punchline and a gulp of air, “Use Grayson! Pretend that you're back together! This is for your own good!”
“What about I make peanut butter cupcakes?”
“Bitch! Those are my fav.” Jamie stops pulling. Gravity is in no one’s favor as we fall onto the bed. Limbs tangled, it takes us a moment to untwist from each other and sit up within the rumpled sheets.
“Of course, I know, they’re your favorite. All the ingredients are right in the kitchen, too.” I smile though my tears, perched in the center of the bed. There has to be a crazed look in my eyes as I coax, “You can smell it already, I see it in your eyes, Jamie.”
“No,” he shakes his head. Jamie climbs off of my bed, and stands up. He has a wide-legged stance and doesn’t appear to have been persuaded.
I add the icing to the cake, voice soft in a tantalizing commercial, “Fluffy soft, butter cupcakes and the filling–”
“This is for your own good.” He yanks hard onto my dress. This time, we both go falling onto the floor.
Jamie gives an ear shattering cat screech as his back hits the dresser drawers with me on top of him. Sandra and Grayson are at the door instantly, both staring at us in confusion.
“Are you two all right?” Sandra asks.
Grayson helps me up.
“Yes, just the woes of beauty.” Jamie mumbles scampering to his feet. “Your corset is adjusted perfectly, milady.”
I almost laugh outright as Grayson mumbles, “Corset? That’s the thing women once wore under their dress? Those contraptions are still being assembled?”
“Yup,” I nod. “Underneath the dress. Nowadays, corsets come with the ability to electrocute. Be a good boy and maybe you'll get to see it done.” Never.
The sky is a beautiful orange-purple for the evening. Tony’s home encompasses a vast amount of land, and Grayson has had to park a distance away, candles twinkle off in the distance. With the cliff overlooking the ocean and a romantic backdrop, it’s clear this family reunion will have a romantic, wedding-like flair to it. I sigh, for the thousandth time, thinking about how my mom married Tony in Vegas.
I’m gnawing on the inside of my lip, comfortable in my own silence when Grayson opens my car door.
“That friend of yours, he is very odd,” Grayson mumbles. He’s still dazed about Jamie and I as he holds out his hand.
“Well, that guy is one of my best friends and will walk me down the aisle one day so,” I take his hand.
“Hey,” his green eyes warm over with sentiment.
Oh, crap! Does he think I'm bitter about the engagement? I smile. Time to teach Grayson a lesson and wean myself off my current addiction.
21
Evan
I stand just inside of the large kitchen where caterers are zipping about. Every once in a while, one of the servers notices me before exiting the French doors and gives me a confused look as if to say I shouldn’t be out there.
There's a pianist stationed in the center of the veranda. Smoke is coming from the infinity pool. Three bartenders work an open bar which has been constructed around the outside stonewall kitchen. Servers circle the large area with silver trays of champagne, caviar and the likes. The tennis court off in the distance has white linen tables, flowers and glitzy shit are atop them making it the perfect wedding reception. My mouth is tensed. So, Tony wants a redo regarding his hasty marriage.
All of the Zaccaros have begun to mix and mingle with a few people I do not know, but can only assume are related to the Dunhams.
As a young Chinese guy starts by me with a silver tray of flutes, I take one and nod my thanks.
He gives the perplexed glance, before shrugging and stepping out.
Downing the champagne in one gulp, I watch the lovely Miss Dunham and her date. Since her dress stops at her knees and puffs out, I've imagined taking her from the back. I readjust my cock and continue to observe their mannerisms.
The Stiff doesn't appear to be new. It took me less than a second to decipher that the two
