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Chapter 2
Mysti May
FRIDAY 2:13 PM
Pushing aside my extensive collection of slinky sequin dresses and ball gowns, I make my way through my overstuffed closet. When I was on the pageant circuit, those dresses earned their weight in gold and had every man practically coming in their Hugo Boss slacks.
Now, they’re gathering dust in my too-small closet.
Living in an older house has its charms, for sure. One look at the Spanish tile in the foyer, and I was sold.
I signed over my hard-earned money to the realtor almost immediately. I discover almost daily a new feature I love about my house, nestled high in the Hollywood Hills.
What it doesn’t have, unfortunately, is ample closet space.
Everything’s so crammed in here I can’t find any clothes to wear on my trip. Sure, I can reach out and grab a gauzy blouse or a super-short mini skirt, but I’m looking for respectable clothes. Or what my fiancé calls ‘dignified.’
Let’s just say this is not a natural look for me. Every day, it’s like I’m wearing someone else’s wardrobe. Like Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s.
Don’t get me wrong; I think RBG is killin’ it—for someone who’s ninety-two.
My favorite red lace panties will have to stay here, along with all my other sexy little numbers. Norbert doesn’t like it when I wear skimpy attire, even around the house when it’s just the two of us.
I know, I know.
Norbert.When we first started dating, I tried my hardest to call him Bert, but he wouldn’t have it. That wasn’tdignifiedeither, believe it or not.
He found a lot of my habits undignified in the beginning. My accent, for sure. I’ve found that my Texan drawl makes most men drool at my feet.
Norbert, on the other hand, has tried to get me to sound like a Midwestern newscaster.
I used to fucking swear all the fucking time, but I’ve seriously cut back on that, too. Norbert believes ladies shouldn’t curse. There are a lot of requirements to live up to when you marry into the Butts family.
And yeah, that’s their real, actual surname.
Soon to me mine, too.
Norbert comes from old money. The kind of old money that comes with multiple estates in various countries. The kind of old money that means there are private jets ready to whisk us to any home we choose.
That means we’ll be living in his mansion on a Malibu cliff come next week.
So, yeah, he’s fucking rich. And he fucking loves me. He’s also dependable.
But given my gawd-awful track record with relationships, I’ll gladly take boring yet solid over the alternative. Do I have to forgo a little debauchery in return for the love of a good man? Obviously. But it’s worth it in my book.
Before I settle into married life, I’m having one last party with my girls, though. Percy, Becky, and Sammi are flying to meet me in Tijuana for a girls’ night we won’t forget. We know how to party—except this one is going to be a little different from our previous blowouts.
Norbert isn’t the biggest fan of my besties. He feels that they’re a bad influence and that they want to pull me back to my old partying ways. He cringes every time I tell him one of our drunken party stories.
So, from here on out, I am a reformed girl. Mysti May Grace the party girl is now a thing of the past.
No more sleeping with anyone who tickles my fancy. No more drinking until I pass out. No more wild hijinks.
I’m going to be on my best behavior on this trip, I swear.
As if I needed a little reassurance at that moment, my engagement ring catches the light. I turn my hand this way and that so it sparkles, reminding me why every sacrifice is worth it.
Norbert might be boring, but he loves me. My gigantic cushion-cut ring is proof of that.
