“Have you checked into a room yet?” Gabby asked.
“Yes, it’s gorgeous. I’m going to have to send the CIA a thank-you note.”
“It’s the EOD. We’re an elite division.”
“Whatever. Send them my regards. The room is very nice. Where are we going now?”
“I have to work on wedding planning,” Gabby said. “My wedding is supposed to be in two days.”
“Well, that isn’t much time, even for a fake wedding. Or is it real?” he asked as they walked toward Hugh. “If it’s real, I’m also into it. I mean—” He fanned his face.
“It’s fake. Markus and I are… I don’t know what we are.We—you know.” Gabby gave Justin a look that explained everything. “But now, you know?” She shrugged and sighed.
“Girl.” He shook his head.
Hugh squinted at them. “What happened?”
Justin waved off the question. “I’ll fill you in later, baby.”
“Well, let’s go plan this thing.” Justin scanned the area, probably trying to gather his bearings.
“The people here are already planning it.”
“Wereplanning it, you mean. There is no way I’m going to not plan your wedding. How many times is my best friend getting married?”
“This makes the second time, and it’s only pretend, so three times easy.”
Justin poo-pooed her statement with a wave of his hand. “Wild horses couldn’t drag me away from planning this party. Where are we at with flowers, food—” Crescendo-ing with drama, he said, “the dress.”
“Well, Lana Hunt is here, so she is flying out one of her Huntress dresses from Lisbon.”
“Really?” He grimaced. “Are you sure about that choice?”
“What? I thought you’d be excited.” How could a man who name-dropped his picnic table on the regular care about Alphonse de Picnic Table but not Lana Hunt, designer to the stars?
With his nose in the air like he was smelling something bad, he said, “She’s going to have to sell me on it.”
As they approached the resort’s main building, Gabby whispered, “Call me Gia while we’re down here. I’m Gia Glanville, an executive assistant with a couple of kids.”
“They really aren’t challenging you with these covers,” he said.“For once, I’d like to see them give you something like truck driver or burlesque dancer.”
“Justin, stop.”
“No, really. They need to challenge you.”
“I’m not trying to win an Oscar!” Gabby said. “And what is this about Lana Hunt being over? I thought everyone was wearing Cuntress. Huntress, I mean. I keep forgetting the real name.”
“Gabby,” he said, “Cuntress is so last season. She is going to need to step it up for me to agree to it. I’d rather have you get married in a simple cover-up and a bikini.”
“Why is everyone putting me in a bikini?”
“Oh, stop. You’re going to look great. Now, what about venue?”
“Genesis’s yacht, I guess. I haven’t been, but we’re supposed to be all excited that we’re allowed on it.”
Justin leaned back and gave her a firm look. “Okay, that, I’m down with.”
“What is it with everyone and Genesis?”
