I’m pretty sure she’s going to be on my side this once, but I’m not stupid enough to say that out loud.
Phil goes off to his client’s fitting, and I start making plans, including contacting the hotel to make sure they have a roomfor us this soon and letting my sister know we’ll be there early if she and Carter want to come and hang out. I’m in the middle of texting Damian an update when my phone rings in my hand.
Katie.
For a long second, I debate whether I should let it go to voicemail. Probably. I wish I’d asked Spears what I should do in this situation.
In the end, I answer it.
“Griff Pevensy.”
“I’m so soooooooooorrrryyyyyyy,” Katie wails, and then I hear some shuffling and muttered voices.
“Griff?” Margaret’s calm tone is immediately recognizable. “I hope it’s okay that we called. We wanted to make sure you and Phil are okay and to apologize for our part in this.”
“Thank you.” I’m not really sure what to say next. “We’re okay. A little shaken.”
“Of course you are. Is there anything I can do?”
This is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had with a client, and considering the ones I’ve had lately, that’s really saying something. “No, but thanks. We just hope it’s all resolved soon.”
“Griff?” That’s Katie, sounding tearful but in control. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea…. She’s always so excited about Margaret’s clothes! She says I work for her fashion role model, so I always show her what’s coming. She… she was reserved when I showed her the gown, but not mean. She just said it was different and that… that it was a shame women of a certain age felt like they had to look younger. Which is dumb! That gown is completely age appropriate. I just don’t understand… and now she’s missing… and… and…” She breaks down into tears again.
“It’s not your fault, Katie. Whatever your mom’s got going on, I’m sure it’s going to be okay.”
“Would it be okay if I spoke to Phil?” Margaret asks. “I’d like to apologize personally.”
I hesitate. “He’s with a client right now, and things are kind of chaotic here. Let’s set up an appointment for early in the new year—you’ll need a fitting by then anyway. He’s eager to meet you, but this might not be the best time.”
She graciously concedes the point, offers her help again if we need it, and then the call’s done.
Leaving me to update my boss about this whole weird situation.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
PHIL
We’ve beenin Vegas for twenty-four hours, and I hate to say it, but Griff was right. Coming here early was a great idea. Even though I’m away from all my safe spaces, I’m also away from the thing that’s causing me the most stress, and while I wouldn’t say I’m doing great, my anxiety is at least manageable. I haven’t been nonverbal at all since Spears’s call.
It probably helps that we’ve spent most of that time just us, together, with Vivi. As soon as I finished up with Pamela—who gave me a very searching look, asked if I was okay, and when I unconvincingly told her I was, said that I could call her if I needed her to throw her weight around. I don’t know what kind of trouble she thinks I might be in, but I was still touched. She was thrilled with how the dress is coming along, and I can’t wait for her to see it at the next fitting, when it will be done but for small tweaks.
Anyway, after she left, I discovered that Griff had gotten Calla on his side, and she practically threw us both out. We went back to his place and packed, stopped very quickly at mine to grab a few things I’d need, and then got on the road.
There’s something about highway driving with your boyfriend and his puppy princess riding shotgun that blows away the negative thoughts. It was just us, my road trip playlist, and the miles rushing past. Vivi likes to sing along, which made us both laugh, and we held hands over the center console and talked about our plans for our little vacation.
Vegas is loud, bright, crowded, and generally overwhelming—not usually the kind of place where I’ll thrive. But there are ways for me to enjoy Vegas, just like there are ways for me to go to theme parks or parties. The first trick is to have a quiet, private place I can retreat to when needed, and Griff’s booked us a suite at a swanky hotel on the Strip. He considered changing it somewhere quieter off-Strip, but I talked him out of it.
Our suite is bright, and airy, with a main living area and a king-sized bedroom. The bathroom has a huge jacuzzi tub, and after Griff fucked me until I saw stars, we spent an hour soaking in it together, then ordered room service for dinner and ate it in the hotel bathrobes while watching reruns ofCSI. It seemed fitting to watch a show set in Vegas while we’re here.
This morning we slept in a little, but not as much as most tourists do, apparently, because when we took Vivi for her walk, the Strip was a lot quieter than I expected. Still not quiet by any stretch of the imagination, but there was enough space for me to breathe, and the noise wasn’t overwhelming. It was actually fun—there’s nowhere quite like Vegas for people-watching. We ended up walking farther than planned, then stopping for breakfast before coming back. It all felt so decadent. It’s weird, because even though I know there’s a person harassing me who thought stabbing my effigy was a good idea, that all seems so far away. Right here, right now, Griff and I are having our first ever vacation as a couple. I didn’t realize how amazing it would be to have a boyfriend who wanted to spend this much time with me.
Back at the hotel, Griff surprises me with a couple’s massage and sauna, and if I thought I was relaxed before, I was so very wrong. Even my anxiety is almost at its baseline as I shower and dress after. I thought I’d be nervous about meeting Griff’s family, and maybe I am, but I guess if I can deal with everything else, this isn’t that big a deal.
That’s what I think right up until we arrive at the park Griff’s sister picked for us to meet at. It’s got a picnic area, a playground, is dog-friendly, and apparently doesn’t get too crowded during the week. And oh look, there’s Penny, with a tall, sandy-haired guy beside her. I don’t see?—
“Uuuuuuuuuuuuunccle Griiiiiiiiiiiiiff!” A tiny torpedo collides with my boyfriend’s legs, and he bends to scoop up his nephew. “Hi! You’re here! Hi, Vivi!” Carter leans dangerously far out of Griff’s hold to give Vivi an ear rub, and I move closer in an attempt to avoid disaster. “Wow! Your hair’s like fire!”
My gut churns. Is that a good thing? I don’t know how kids’ brains work—nobody I’m close to has any. How dare my friends not have had children to prepare me for this moment!
