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She smacks my hand away with a laugh. “This morning wasn’t enough for you? Besides, I already showered, and if you mess up my hair, Maren will murder us.”
“I can’t help it. You look ravishing.”
“I’m not even dressed yet.”
“All the better…”
She rolls her eyes lightly, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to my cheek before whispering in my ear, “You aren’t getting out of this, so deal with it, Mr. Boseman.”
“Knock knock!” Arlo shouts from the open door of the suite.
I huff out a laugh. “You don’t have to shout. The door was open.”
My partner makes a skeptical face. “That’s never stopped you two before.”
Lorelai waves him over. “Arlo, c’mere. We need a professional opinion.” She waves in my direction. “What’s missing?”
Arlo rubs his chin with one hand, examining me from head to toe. “I feel like cattle at the auction,” I whine.
“That makes two of us,” Lorelai says, gesturing to her belly. “Is it the shoes?” she asks Arlo.
“Hmm. Maybe? I think we need another opinion. Annie was just outside a minute ago…”
“Oh god, we don’t have to call in more—”
“Annie Mathers! Get in here, woman!”
A moment later, the door opens again, this time with a line of people filing in. Annie, Jefferson, Shelby, Cameron with a drooling baby strapped to his broad chest, and Maren, toting a box filled with makeup for Lorelai. Presumably.
Hopefully.
“What’s missing?” Lorelai says, gesturing to me.
“His Vans.”
“His glasses.”
“Johnny Cash T-shirt?”
“You’re never fully dressed without a smile,” Cameron says, bouncing his very wet daughter, Gracie.
“Maybe he shouldn’t have shaved today?” Arlo suggests, his head still tilted to the side.
I give Lorelai an imploring look over all their heads and she winks. “All right, everyone out. I know what he needs.”
“We’ll see you there,” Annie chirps, dragging out a smirking Coolidge by his tie. Despite the bouncing, baby Gracie is starting to fuss.
“I think she needs to eat,” Shelby says. “We’ll be in our suite. Good luck!” She presses a kiss to both my and Lorelai’s cheeks before she and Cameron head back across the hall. They aren’t coming tonight, but we’ll catch up with them after at the small party being hosted by On the Floor Records at a nearby craft brewery.
“I’ll give you guys a few minutes and be back to get you in your dress, Lore,” Maren says. She turns to me and in a low voice says, “You were right to shave. No regrets, Boseman.”
“Thanks, Maren.”
Lorelai shoos Arlo out and closes the door, locking it. “Sorry. I should have known they’d be no help.”
“No, they’re right. This is a disaster. I look like a penguin.”
“You look like an executive worthy of being honored. But you’re right. You don’t look like yourself. And honestly, why the fuck not?” Lorelai tugs on my bow tie. “Strip.”
