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It’s insane the way that twenty-four hours can change your entire fucking life. That you can lose the man who’s supposed to be the love of our life…and meet your soul mate, all within the course of one day.
That you can squirt on the face of a mafia don, be kidnapped by his men, get rescued by said soul mate, and then—some-fucking-how—reunite him with his long-lost, card-counting, weed-stealing monkey companion, narrowly avoiding a villanous monologue—a fate worse than death…
“Hey,” Becky says, coming out on the balcony and standing next to me. She leans on the rail at my side and nudges me gently with her elbow.
When I follow her gaze, I realize something insane.
The little blue box Lock sent me is still unopened in my hands.
And—shit.Lock. Last time I saw him, I pushed him into the Chao Phraya…another fate worse than death.
“You gonna open it?” Becky asks.
My shoulders rise and fall as I take a big breath and release it again.
“Yeah,” I admit. “I have to…even though I already know what’s inside.”
“You don’t know specifics, though,” Becky says with a sly little grin. “Maybe he’s surprised you.”
“Maybe,” I say, smiling back at her.
For once, I don’t even want to slap her for it.
I run my thumb over the edge of the box, thinking it over. But first…
“We need to talk to that monkey,” I say, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her back in.
Inside, the Bangkok mafia seems to be partaking heavily in Ladyboy Celine Dion’s weed…and Ladyboy Celine Dion as well, for that matter. She’s giggling as she’s passed around from one gangster to the next, being felt up and kissed on to her heart’s content.
Mysti May looks pretty let down, but honestly…Mysti May needs to stop falling in love with everyone she hooks up with when she’s drunk.
I approach the mafia don with a little fire burning in my chest. I know what I have to do next—with Lock and the little blue box and my life and everything. But before that happens…
I bow to the monkey.
“I’ve figured it out,” I inform the little primate bastard. “I’ve remembered everything. And…” I groan. “I’m in love with Lock Williams. Okay? I’m admitting it. So…can I please have my award back?”
The monkey sits back on the mafia don’s shoulder, looking pleased with himself. The mafia don, on the other hand, looks confused as fuck—and I give the dude a tired shrug.
You and me both, sister.
Appeased, the monkey nods his head and points his finger. I breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe the first of the last sighs of relief I’ll have to breathe today.
That is, until I see where the monkey’s finger ispointing.
“Oh, god, no,” I sob.
Because over there in the corner, just beneath that sticky, smelly pile of ping-pong balls… I see the faintest glimmer of the award I received last night.
“I’d let it go if I was you, babe,” Becky says, patting me on the shoulder sympathetically.
“Yeah…I-I’m good. Can you guys hold down the fort here?”
I look at the faces of my BFFs, and they all smile and nod.
Fucking good. For the first time in the last twenty-four hours, it looks like everything might finally be alright.
I tuck the little blue box in the pocket of my skirt and run out the door.
He might hate me. He might fucking despise me. And I’d put good money on him not smelling too great…
But I’m in love with Lock Williams.
And a woman never gives up on her husband.
