happen.
My phone buzzes and I reach over and pluck it off the nightstand.
"I’ll be up in ten minutes," I tell Kristi, before she can even say hello.
"OK," she laughs. "We have time, but I’m lonely. I’ll do your hair when you get here if you want."
Her request betrays her nerves. Hell, I’d be a bundle of nerves too, if I was marrying Johnny Blazen. If I didn’t see him play football last weekend, I’d think he was fake because I never seen them together. "Sounds good, Kristi. Be right up."
I end the call and grab my purse and then catch my reflection in the hall mirror and stop dead.
I look… tired. Wounded. Used up.
Depressed maybe. My moods have steadily gotten worse since my last interaction with Vaughn. I’ve missed Dirty Heaven, and even girls I hardly talk to online have started sending me direct messages asking if things are OK. Bebe, thankfully, has not noticed much because she’s traveling with the competing members of whatever they do over at her sports club.
"Grace," I say to myself in the mirror. "You…" But I have no pep talk to give myself on this night. I have nothing positive to say. So I just turn away and leave the room.
Kristi is up in one of the upper-floor executive rooms, so I get in the elevator, flash the keycard required to access that floor, and massage my temples with my fingertips to try and ease the tension headache creeping up on me.
The doors open and I step out and knock on the door right across the way.
A faint, “Come in,” is called out to me from inside. The door is propped open with the metal swing lock, so I push through and close it all the way behind me. When I enter the living area, Kristi is setting up a curling iron on the wet bar. She’s so damn cute, she makes me smile. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Sit," she says, pointing to the bar stool. "Did you know I was a makeup artist at Channel 9 before all this crazy Blazen stuff started?"
I shake my head and take my seat. She produces a brush and begins to stroke it through my long hair. "Well, I was. Before Johnny asked me to quit and stay home to be a mother. That’s where we met, you know? I was doing his makeup before he went on Good AM Denver , and we hit it off." She lets out a long sigh and begins to twist up strands of hair in her nimble fingertips.
"I didn’t know that. I never watch local news. Too depressing because my neighborhood is always on there. Things I should know, but really don’t want to know. Ya know?” How the fuck would she know? She lives in Park Hill. “Do you miss it? Being a makeup artist?"
"Sometimes," she says with a smile I can see in the mirror behind the bar. "I’m bored at home, ya know? I can’t wait for this wedding to be over so we can live together."
"Why don’t you live together now? I mean, the cat’s out of the bag, right? You’re pregnant, you’re getting married. Why not just get that party started?"
"Hmmm." She pins up a section of hair before continuing. "He wants us to start out right."
"It’s kinda late for that, don’t you think?" I want to stab myself for speaking up. "Sorry." A look of hurt crosses her face in the mirror and a wave of guilt flows through me. "I’m just being a cynical bitch, I guess. I mean, normally I’m not one to rock the boat. I hate confrontation, so I’d never say anything. But this is your wedding, Kristi. This is your life ."
She laughs nervously. "I hate confrontation too, so let’s just drop it and have a good time."
"But how do you cope? I mean the fact that you broke up his marriage? How do you trust him not to find another woman to take your place?"
"You don’t even know him, Grace. You have no idea what kind of man he is in private."
"Huh," I grunt sarcastically. "Where have I heard that argument before? Oh, right. The last guy I slept with, he was like that too. Oh, the private me and the public me are two different things ," I say in a fake voice.
"Well, Johnny is a famous football player, so in
My phone buzzes and I reach over and pluck it off the nightstand.
"I’ll be up in ten minutes," I tell Kristi, before she can even say hello.
"OK," she laughs. "We have time, but I’m lonely. I’ll do your hair when you get here if you want."
Her request betrays her nerves. Hell, I’d be a bundle of nerves too, if I was marrying Johnny Blazen. If I didn’t see him play football last weekend, I’d think he was fake because I never seen them together. "Sounds good, Kristi. Be right up."
I end the call and grab my purse and then catch my reflection in the hall mirror and stop dead.
I look… tired. Wounded. Used up.
Depressed maybe. My moods have steadily gotten worse since my last interaction with Vaughn. I’ve missed Dirty Heaven, and even girls I hardly talk to online have started sending me direct messages asking if things are OK. Bebe, thankfully, has not noticed much because she’s traveling with the competing members of whatever they do over at her sports club.
"Grace," I say to myself in the mirror. "You…" But I have no pep talk to give myself on this night. I have nothing positive to say. So I just turn away and leave the room.
Kristi is up in one of the upper-floor executive rooms, so I get in the elevator, flash the keycard required to access that floor, and massage my temples with my fingertips to try and ease the tension headache creeping up on me.
The doors open and I step out and knock on the door right across the way.
A faint, “Come in,” is called out to me from inside. The door is propped open with the metal swing lock, so I push through and close it all the way behind me. When I enter the living area, Kristi is setting up a curling iron on the wet bar. She’s so damn cute, she makes me smile. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Sit," she says, pointing to the bar stool. "Did you know I was a makeup artist at Channel 9 before all this crazy Blazen stuff started?"
I shake my head and take my seat. She produces a brush and begins to stroke it through my long hair. "Well, I was. Before Johnny asked me to quit and stay home to be a mother. That’s where we met, you know? I was doing his makeup before he went on Good AM Denver , and we hit it off." She lets out a long sigh and begins to twist up strands of hair in her nimble fingertips.
"I didn’t know that. I never watch local news. Too depressing because my neighborhood is always on there. Things I should know, but really don’t want to know. Ya know?” How the fuck would she know? She lives in Park Hill. “Do you miss it? Being a makeup artist?"
"Sometimes," she says with a smile I can see in the mirror behind the bar. "I’m bored at home, ya know? I can’t wait for this wedding to be over so we can live together."
"Why don’t you live together now? I mean, the cat’s out of the bag, right? You’re pregnant, you’re getting married. Why not just get that party started?"
"Hmmm." She pins up a section of hair before continuing. "He wants us to start out right."
"It’s kinda late for that, don’t you think?" I want to stab myself for speaking up. "Sorry." A look of hurt crosses her face in the mirror and a wave of guilt flows through me. "I’m just being a cynical bitch, I guess. I mean, normally I’m not one to rock the boat. I hate confrontation, so I’d never say anything. But this is your wedding, Kristi. This is your life ."
She laughs nervously. "I hate confrontation too, so let’s just drop it and have a good time."
"But how do you cope? I mean the fact that you broke up his marriage? How do you trust him not to find another woman to take your place?"
"You don’t even know him, Grace. You have no idea what kind of man he is in private."
"Huh," I grunt sarcastically. "Where have I heard that argument before? Oh, right. The last guy I slept with, he was like that too. Oh, the private me and the public me are two different things ," I say in a fake voice.
"Well, Johnny is a famous football player, so in
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