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“Are there any skeletons in your closet I need to know about? Anything that a reporter could dig up?”
“Like? I’ve never been arrested or to jail or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Well, yes, that but also any other marriages? Children? Evictions?”
I shake my head, trying not to take his questions personally. “No, there’s nothing that will come out about me that you don’t already know. I mean, I’m sure there’s a ton of court records because I was in the system but nothing because I broke the law or got in trouble. I’ve never been married, never had children.”
“Good. Now as for when you’ll move in?—”
“Wait,” I interrupt, “don’t I get to know if you have any skeletons in your closet?”
He flashes a smile but it doesn’t seem genuine; it seems like he’s annoyed. “Like you, I too have never been married, no kids, no criminal record, and no evictions.”
“No crazy exes I need to worry about?” I half joke, trying to bring back a little levity to the situation but his eyes go dark.
“No,” he says briskly. “Now, back to what I was saying.” And just like that, his face completely changes, back to his charming if not flirty smile. “As for when you’ll move in. We can keep it to officially after the wedding. However, before then, you should plan to stay the night for the sake of appearances.”
“Right.” I finish my wine, wishing I had more when my brain instantly imagines us tangled up in the sheets. I can feel the flush of the wine already so adding to it a layer of embarrassment won’t be as noticeable.
Shit! Get it together.
“I’ll show you your room and give you a tour tomorrow night.”
“I’m coming over tomorrow night?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“One other thing.” He interlaces his fingers, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “We are going to need to build trust between us; that means honesty, even if it’s uncomfortable. I’ve outlined some expectations regarding it in more detail in the contract.”
“I understand.”
He finishes his wine, placing his glass on the coffee table and checking his watch. “I need to head to my meeting.” He stands, reaching out to take my glass and puts both of them in the kitchen sink. “Thank you for that by the way. Mind if I use your restroom really quick?”
“For sure.” I point toward the hallway. “It’s the door on the left.” I run my hands through my air-dried hair which I’m sure is a frizzy mess by now. I’m focused on trying to tame it in the reflection of myself in the TV when I hear a laugh along with a buzzing sound that’s growing louder.
Oh my God, this isn’t happening. This is a nightmare.
I pinch myself to try and wake up when Atlas emerges with my vibrator in his hand. He switches it off, the buzzing finally going away. I don’t know what to say so I yell at him.
“What were you doing in my room!” His smile is practically from ear to ear.
“I’m sorry, you told me door on the left so I went in and it wasn’t the bathroom.”
“I said right!”
“You said left.” His voice grows a touch stern.
“Why the hell would I say the wrong direction in my own home?” I gesture widely with my arm. I’m well aware I’m in the wrong, but the embarrassment of the situation and the wine on my empty stomach has me digging in my heels, making a complete idiot of myself.
“The second I opened the door, I heard the buzzing and looked to my right to see a vibrating pink cock on your floor.”
Mortified doesn’t begin to describe how I feel but it quickly turns to anger. “Well, you didn’t have to pick it up. You should have just shut the door.” I jut out my hand. “Give it to me.”
“I was merely saving you battery power.” I lunge for it but he lifts it out of my reach. He looks at it. “Not unless you tell me when the last time you used it was.”
“You’re disgusting,” I snarl at him. His smile fades as he lowers the vibrator and takes a step toward me.
