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He sets the bath down. As soon as Fluffer spots it, he leaves the flogger behind and rushes for the dust.
Huh.
Is this what those fur companies do to lure them in?
Fluffer starts to bask in the dust, and I watch with an ever-widening grin.
“How is this not viral?” I ask Art. “It’s cuter than sleepy kittens.”
Art looks at Fluffer with fatherly pride. “I agree. We’ll have to shoot him one of these days.”
Fluffer, who looks to be done with his bath, throws a worried glance at us:
Shoot me, then eat me. Humans are so predictable.
Before the chinchilla can rush back under the bed, Art says something soothing to him in Russian and gently picks him up.
This is it. Even the nicer-smelling human will eat you. Who knew?
Art places Fluffer in the carrier and turns to me. “We should head to the airport. I don’t want to keep him locked up in this thing longer than necessary.”
Sure, sure. You just want fresh meat on your flight, you monsters.
Since we’re leaving, I locate my phone and search for my old clothes. They’re gone, probably left at the store where I purchased my new getup.
“Do we leave the flogger under the bed?” I ask Art before we head out.
He shrugs. “It’s ruined.”
“They’ll know it’s ours.” I redden as I picture someone locating the thing. They’ll assume we’re extra-extra kinky given the gnawed state of the wood. “There’s dessert smeared all over it.”
“If you want to crawl under the bed, be my guest,” he says.
With a sigh, I step out of the room. Art and I don’t talk much on the way to the lobby. I don’t know about him, but I’m replaying the fateful video in my head and getting myself too turned on to be in public.
“I’m going to settle the bill,” Art says. “Can you get a cab?”
I do so, and when Art joins me, his expression is strangely thoughtful.
Is he also reflecting on the video we saw?
“Where are we headed?” the cabbie asks.
“Give us a second,” Art tells him, then turns to me. “Look, Lemon… if you’ve changed your mind about the whole marriage thing, we can take a ride and get an annulment.”
On what grounds? We actually consummated our union. “Have you changed your mind?” I ask, and I hate how weak my voice sounds.
His eyebrows furrow. “Why would I change my mind?”
Because the video made you feel dirty? Because you no longer want to be linked to the likes of me? Because you’ve realized you could save money by simply asking any warm-blooded woman to be yours for free? I can think of a few more reasons.
“If you’re still okay with it, so am I,” I say. “Oh, and, obviously, Rule One is back in effect.”
“Right. Rule One.” He studies my lips with a strange expression. “How about we also implement Rule Two: no drinking while married.”
Is that so he doesn’t repeat the mistake of soiling himself with me? I purse my lips. “Fine.”
He turns to the cab driver, who by now must think us certifiable. “To the airport, please.”
