“That brings us into a segue,” Priyanka said. “Have you all still been dating your spouse? A marriage is work. You have to fall in love with each other every day. Otherwise, these marriages are not going to last.”
“But it seems one of our couples is a lot happier than they were the last time,” Rainbow said happily.
Grace was too focused on her food to notice. I nudged her, and she wiped her mouth and took a swallow of wine.
“You mean us?” She pointed between her and me.
“You both seem much more relaxed and flirtatious,” Rainbow said, beaming.
Linneah glared daggers at Grace.
Grace straightened her shoulders and shot a fiery glare back at Linneah.
“Must be the excellent food,” she drawled, “and the fact that I know that after this excruciating dinner, I’m going to get fucked by a thirteen-inch cock attached to the finest man in Manhattan.”
I caught my lower lip in my teeth to try to bite back the crazy grin.She likes me! Grace likesme!
“You’re so vulgar!” Linneah shrieked.
“Yeah,” Grace said lightly, inspecting her fork. “What Chris does with his mouth is pretty vulgar. But he’s my husband now, so I’m stuck with him.”
* * *
Grace leanedagainst the wall of the elevator as itwhooshedus up to the penthouse level.
“So,” I said. “Do you want me to do more vulgar things with my mouth?”
“I was counting on it,” she purred.
I kissed her, picking her up as I spun us around to the front door. But as I punched in the keycard while Grace undid my tie, I remembered—my parents were still here.
“Shit.”
I pushed through the front door, expecting to be accosted by my mother and father. Instead, Grace and I were blasted with loud eighties techno music.
“Get those legs up, ladies!” Grace’s grandmother hollered. “This isn’t a leisurely walk around the park! We’re getting our blood pumping! We’re combating osteoporosis and poor muscle tone!”
“I demand you leave at once!” my mother shrieked over the music. She sounded hoarse.
“Oh my God,” Grace muttered.
In the living room were about twenty senior citizens all doing synchronized jazzercise while my parents huddled against the wall, trapped by a sea of neon-colored spandex.
“Reach and extend,” Gran called. “Tighten those lats and obliques.”
“Chris,” my father barked, “I demand you evict them! We’ve been trapped here for hours!”
“See.” Grace smiled at me. “I told you Gran would handle it.”
“They’re guests in my house,” I drawled, leaning back against the long reclaimed-wood table that divided the kitchen from the living area. “They’re welcome to be here just like you.”
“I’m your father!” my dad roared. “You owe me. And I want them gone.”
“Actually,” one of the elderly women said, “I have a date I have to get to. We’ll do it again next Tuesday.”
“You betcha!” Gran said, turning off the music.
My parents scuttled over to me.
