Still keeping her hand trapped in my own, I stood up and leaned over the table. My smile turned into a snarl.
“That’s good. Because if you even try, I will ruin you and your business.”
19
Grace
“What an appalling man,” I said as I tossed and turned in the guest bed. I had spent the rest of the evening unpacking, corralling Gran away from Chris’s things, and working on my photo editing. When my calendar reminded me it was time for bed, I had drunk Sleepytime Tea and listened to a meditation app, but I still could not fall asleep. Something about being just across the hall from where Chris slept, half naked in his bed, was making my skin hot and prickly.
“You don’t even like him,” I reminded myself, wrapping my arms around one of the stuffed taco plushies on the bed. “He’s obnoxious, self-centered, and paranoid. And hot.”
Not hot! Not hot!
But he was hot.
I closed my eyes, and I imagined Chris coming into my bedroom, pulling the covers back, his hands all over me, playing with my tits, almost kissing me, not doing anything to get me off, just enough to make me frustrated and aching and—
Beeeep! Beep! Beep!
“His stupid alarm!” I yelled in aggravation, throwing the covers off. I was not listening to that thing for the next hour and a half.
“Beep! Beep!” the parrot shrieked from another room. “Time to get up, asshole! Beep! Beeeeep!”
I stomped across the hall, flinging the door to Chris’s room open. I grabbed the alarm clock and wrenched the batteries out.
“You need to get up if your alarm is going off!” I yelled at Chris as he yawned and blinked up at me from the pile of blankets on the bed—of which only the barest, tiniest corner of soft white sheet covered the raging erection he had.
My mouth dropped open as I froze, the batteries and the alarm clock in each hand.
“I, uh—you need better sleep hygiene,” I said, shoving the pieces at him and scurrying out.
* * *
Amy:How big was it?
Sophie:Do you have pictures?
Elsie:What kind of photographer doesn’t have pictures?
Grace:I am a photographer of wholesome wedding photos.
Ivy:What about that boudoir wedding photo the bride asked you to do of her for her fiancé?
Grace:I will lower my standards for money.
Brea:Honestly you should give Chris a courtesy blow job since you moved your grandma and the rescue parrot into his penthouse.
Grace:Speaking of, can you make Zeus a couple new vests? The stress of the move has him tearing his feathers out again, and the only vest that was salvaged was covered in wax and smoke. It was making Chris sneeze, so I had to throw it out.
Sophie:Look at you being a good little wife!
Grace:Look at me trying to keep Chris from going ballistic and not stealing part of our company, but do I get any thanks???
Amy:We lurve you Grace!
Sophie:And we’d love you more if you brought pics of your hunky well-hung husband!
“Grace?”the hippy therapist prodded, giving me a loopy smile. “Are you with us?”
