So I did the unthinkable. I asked Hendrix for relationship advice. His response, “When it’s the one? Totally normal. Fucking weird, right?”
“I do have a bit of work,” Hollis answers my question. “But I was kind of hoping you might help me with it?”
I turn to face him because he looks hella nervous all of a sudden. “Oh?”
“Well, seeing as you’re my wife…” A shy smile forms on his lips. “I thought it might be nice to get your input on some of the finishes that will go into the club.”
I gape at him. “Shouldn’t you ask Jonas?”
“I did. He agreed I should handle it, and I want your input.”
“But I don’t know the first thing about running a club. How will I know what looks good?”
“The designer has already set aside a few pre-approved choices.”
“So you’re saying I really can’t mess it up?”
He laughs. “No.”
I stand up and join him on the other side of the couch. “Lunch with my husband and an afternoon of spending someone else’s money? Count me in.”
I lead him to the kitchen counter, where he can grab the keys. I don’t even offer to drive anymore. He knows he’s in charge of that now. I kneel down and start putting on my shoes.
“Someone else’s money?”
“Huh?” I blink up at him.
“You said you enjoy spending someone else’s money.” His tone is light. Amused, even.
I rise, shoelaces secured. “Well, yeah. The club is?—”
“Ours,” he says firmly.
“What? No, it’s yours. You and Jonas?—”
“The morning we woke up in Vegas, I said something to you. Do you remember?”
“You said a lot of crazy things that morning, Hollis.” I grin. “Also, I was kind of distracted the first ten minutes or so because your abs were out.”
He chuckles, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I said what’s mine is yours. I meant it then, and I mean it now. Everything I have is yours.”
“Even your company?” I ask, knowing I have nothing to give him in return. I don’t own Creeds. It seems kind of like a shit deal for him.
“Yes.” His mouth tips up. “Kind of the definition of everything.”
“Okay.” I sigh dramatically. “But it’s not going to be nearly as fun when I know it’s our money. Don’t be surprised if you find me in the clearance aisle.”
He snorts. “I’m sure the designer will love that.”
“Hey.” I shrug, patting my thrift store couch. “Nothing wrong with a good deal, right?”
“No, now that you mention it…” He smirks with some hidden meaning. “Can we make one more stop today?”
Thanksgiving was last week, but you wouldn’t know it while driving around downtown Los Angeles. The sun is shining, the palm trees are swaying, and everyone is in shorts.
It’s as if someone forgot to tell Southern California that Old Man Winter is coming to town.
Hollis and I walk hand in hand down the street. We just finished lunch outside at a little bistro and are now on our way to the design showroom he needs to visit.
