Faking Paradise

by Lily Montgomery

  Grant gave a wolf whistle when I walked out of the bathroom. He was still in bed, eating gummy worms and watching TV. “Get it, girl.”

  “I haven’t been clubbing in ages.” I stood at the dresser, putting in my dangly earrings.

  “Don’t talk to any guys,” he said.

  “Jealous?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I felt the urge to give him a kiss before I left but thought better of it. My miniscule purse held my phone, license, cash, and a tube of lipstick. Vivian and I had only made vague plans for tonight, wanting to see where the night took us and what Rebecca wanted to do. Hawaii was a vacation spot, so we shouldn’t have any trouble finding shenanigans to get into.

  The club was packed, and boy, did I feel thirty. I had never heard half the songs the DJ played, and my dress was a nun’s habit compared to some of these dresses.

  “Tequila, please. Four,” I managed to yell over the pulsing music. I handed the bartender cash, and he placed four shots, lime wedges, and a salt shaker on the bar. The four of us took turns with the salt shaker, and took our shots in unison. Maisy pulled a face, and I ordered a second round that went down a little smoother from the looks of it.

  I felt my purse buzz and checked my phone to see a text from Grant. It was a picture of him in a similar club, although he looked terribly bored. The message read, “The boys somehow managed to convince me to come out. Derrick is already shitfaced and I feel old. I’d rather be in bed with you.”

  I was a little surprised at his admission, and I commiserated with his feeling old, promising him a night in with pizza and beer, which he responded that he was looking forward to. Vivian grabbed my arm and I shoved my phone in my purse as she dragged me out onto the dance floor to the sea of children who were grinding on one another.

  It took another drink for me to actually start dancing, and I soon forgot about being a grandma in a short dress. My eyes were closed and I was dancing with Rebecca when I felt a hand slide across my backside and make its way toward the edge of my skirt. Whirling around, I was eye to eye with some greasy-haired beefcake who had spent too long in a tanning bed. He was wearing a white tank with a gold chain necklace. Gross.

  “You got a nice ass,” he said in a thick New Jersey accent.

  “Don’t touch me again, asshole.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Take it as a compliment.” He held his hands up, trying to placate me.

  I scoffed. Why did men think we lived for their approval? “Being groped by someone such as yourself isn’t a compliment. You know, steroids shrink your dick, right? You gotta overcompensate for that little cocktail weenie you’ve got with the big muscles and overbearing attitude?”

  “You fucking bitch.”

  “A fucking bitch with a nice ass and a dick bigger than yours. Come on. This club is full of trash.” I’d had enough of this type of guy in my early twenties to not have the patience to deal with it now. Disgusting men who thought they were God’s gift and probably couldn’t spell clitoris, let alone find it.

  He hurled petty insults at us as we walked away, but I gave him a one-fingered salute as we pushed through the crowd.

  “I thought you were about to get in a fight,” Maisy said once we were safely outside.

  “So did I.” I’d never actually been in a fist fight before, and God knew if he threw a punch, I’d have been on my way to the ER, but I couldn’t just let that go without standing up for myself.

  We hailed a cab to take us somewhere else, and I spotted a sex shop down the street.

  “There.” I pointed. After a salacious grin, the driver pulled into the parking lot. I handed him cash and was glad to be out of that cab. He gave me the creeps.

  We showed our IDs to the person at the door and went in to explore the toys, DVDs, and lingerie.

  Maisy’s eyes were wide as she perused the selection of toys, and I laughed, taking one off the shelf and handing it to her. “That’s a good one.” Lord knew Derrick likely rutted on top of her for thirty seconds and fell asleep.

  “I don’t think I could.” She put it back up.

  “Sometimes, a nice bath, a glass of chardonnay, and one of these bad boys is all you need,” Rebecca added.

  Vivian blushed while she looked at the XXL Purple Pleaser.

  “Don’t start with that one.” Rebecca handed her a smaller version, putting the massive vibrator back on the shelf.

  “I think I’ll pass for now.” Vivian put the smaller toy back on the shelf, still looking uncomfortable.

  “Suit yourself. I’m going to check out the lingerie.” Rebecca headed to the lingerie, and the rest of us followed, Vivian likely following just so she wouldn’t be left alone staring at the wall of penises.

  I was impressed with their stock of non-standard sizes, finding a few things that I wanted for myself. My lingerie collection could use a little splash, and I picked out a red lace bodysuit. The bottoms were cheeky, and I knew they would make my butt look fabulous. A few racks down had a matching set of black lace panties, a sheer bra, and a garter belt. These thighs didn’t fit in a normal size stocking, so I dug for a larger size, certain that they wouldn’t have it. Pleasantly surprised, I pulled out a pair in my size.

  “Hey, Soph,” Maisy whispered.

  “Yeah?” I said, checking the weight and height chart on the back of the stockings.

  “Think I'd look okay in this?”

  I looked to see her holding up a black lace number that looked like it took an engineering degree to wear.

  “If you can figure out how to put the damn thing on, I think you will.”

  She grinned, walking off toward the register. I shook my head, knowing damn well Derrick didn't deserve a girl like Maisy. And he certainly didn't deserve that lingerie.

  We made our purchases, and I realized my buzz from the tequila was finally subsiding. Stepping out into the night, we saw a party bus drive by, with a number on the side. Rebecca and I shared a look and I quickly pulled out my phone, calling the number, asking if they had any available busses. Luckily, Thursdays weren’t too busy, and they had one free bus in the area. I gave them our location and told them we were open to sharing the bus with another group of girls.

  In twenty minutes, a bus arrived to pick us up, with several drunk girls hanging out the window, hollering at us.

  Stepping onto the bus, we realized quickly that these women didn’t mess around. They had tons of liquor on top of what the bus provided, and a male stripper.

  These girls knew how to party and made sure we were all sufficiently drunk and having the time of our lives, even refusing the money I offered to pay for the booze. I shoved half my money into the stripper’s G-string and took a drink of whiskey straight from the bottle. We drove around for hours, drinking, dancing, and laughing.

  Someone had the bright idea of playing never have I ever, which resulted in the four McAllister sisters sufficiently plastered. But we learned some interesting things about the stripper, including his love of true crime documentaries and that he was in school for criminal justice. He took a liking to Maisy and showed her all the pictures he’d taken of his rescue pup, Popcorn. I pointed out that you could tell a lot by a man by how he treated animals. Derrick hated animals. She seemed to get the point.

  Eventually, the night was over and the bus let us out at our hotel.

  “Now that’s curbside service,” I slurred, stumbling off the bus.

  It was well after midnight, so there weren’t many people milling about at the hotel, and those that were, were staff. Somehow, I managed to make my way back to our bungalow, and I realized that the one thing I hadn’t put in my little purse was a key to the room.

  “Shit.” I took my phone from my purse and checked the time. It was nearing 3am, and I hoped Grant was back. I knocked and called his name. “Grant!” I repeated, knocking louder.

  The door opened to Grant standing there in his underwear and he caught me as I stumbled in, giggling.


  “You look hot in just your underwear,” I slurred, dropping to the bed and throwing my bag on the floor. I’d save the lingerie for another night. “C’mere. Take my dress off.”

  “No, Sophie, you’re drunk.”

  “Duh,” I said, fumbling for my zipper.

  “Here.” He handed me my pajamas. “Go change. You need water, food, and sleep.”

  “No, what I need is in those boxers.”

  “Not while you’re drunk.”

  “Oh, so we only get to have sex when you want it?” I stood, affronted, Grant catching me before I toppled over.

  “Soph, keep your voice down. You’re drunk. We can have sex anytime you want when you’re sober. But now you need to eat and sleep it off.”

  “I should have known.” I didn’t lower my voice. “You were just using me. And now that I want it, you don’t, because you’ve already had enough.”

  “That’s not it at all. I just prefer not to sleep with drunk girls.”

  “You’re so selfish, Grant. I was right about you all along. You’re a selfish womanizer.” His turning me down had wounded my pride, and I felt rejected.

  “That’s not fair,” he argued. “It’s not selfish to not want to sleep with a drunk woman.”

  “What, because you’re afraid it won’t be good enough for you? Afraid I can’t perform to your liking?”

  “What? No, that’s not it at all. You’re just not completely in control, and I don’t want to take advantage of that, all right? Just put on your pajamas and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

  “Fuck you, Grant.” I took my pajamas to the bathroom and managed to put them on without falling, even though I was definitely unsteady on my feet.

  When I came out, Grant was back on the pullout bed, and I stomped to the fridge for a bottle of water. Fine. Let him sleep there. I hope his back hurts in the morning. I chugged the water and went to bed, feeling angry and insulted. I tossed for a while, even though I was exhausted. Having Grant tell me no had stung, even if he claimed it was just because I was drunk.

  Asshole.

  15

  “Jesus.” The sun was murder on my pounding head, and I sat up to see that I was alone. I remembered the events of last night and fell back on the bed, groaning. My pride was wounded, both from Grant refusing me and my reaction.

  I rolled over and looked at the time. It was almost 8am, and we didn’t have brunch with my parents until 10. But I needed food now. Before leaving, I took a handful of ibuprofen and found my darkest sunglasses. I had no idea where Grant was, and to be honest, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to seeing him. I’d made a drunken fool of myself last night, God only knew why.

  I’d eat a little at the breakfast buffet and hopefully be feeling better at brunch. The hostess led me to a small table for two, and I ordered water. Breakfast rice and meats sounded like a great way to feed a hangover, and I loaded my plate down, despite my original intent of eating small. I grabbed a taro bagel on my way back to my table.

  “Would you care for a mimosa or Bloody Mary this morning?” the waiter asked as he set my water down.

  “Thank you, no,” I said. The mere thought was enough to make me gag.

  I didn’t want to see alcohol for a while. Not after the things it made me say, and not after the way it made me feel. I checked my phone and was a little disappointed that I didn’t have a text from Grant.

  “Can you blame him?” I spread my bagel with cream cheese.

  The alcohol had brought all my insecurities back out to play, and when he’d told me no, I’d felt insulted and rejected.

  As much as I didn’t want to, I needed to apologize. Again. Damn it, why was I having to apologize to Grant every time I turned around? I was getting tired of it. I shoved the last of the bagel in my mouth, asked for a to-go water, and set off to find Grant. I was hoping that it would take me a few minutes to find him, giving me time to come up with the right words. I pushed through the double doors that led into the main lobby and stopped dead in my tracks. Well, I’d found him sooner than I’d hoped. He was currently standing at the front desk, talking to the employee who had planted the earring in our room.

  “That son of a bitch,” I swore. I turned to go back through the dining area, hoping I’d escaped without Grant seeing me.

  “Hey, Soph.”

  I stopped, looking for the source of my name. It was Tyler. He waved as he walked toward me, and I returned it.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Oh, yeah. I’m fine,” I lied.

  “Where are you off to?”

  “I… I'm not sure.” I was so busy storming off, I didn't know where I was storming off to. I couldn’t go sit in the room; that was just pathetic.

  “I was about to go for a walk along some of the trails. You want to join?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Since things with Grant were currently swirling in the toilet, thanks to my own stupidity, I might as well go with someone who seemed to genuinely like me, and that I didn’t hurl drunken insults at.

  “How are all your wedding festivities going?” I asked.

  “As well as they can be. My brother's fiancée seems to be a bit, uh, stressed. Apparently, there was a crisis with the flowers, and she's had to go with ranunculus instead of peonies, and I'm pretty sure it's the end of the world.”

  “Well, flowers are what make or break a wedding, you know.”

  We found the entrance to one of the trails and chose a direction.

  “Oh, and the airline lost my brother’s luggage, so he has no tux. They're out now trying to find him one.”

  “Okay, that's a little bit worse.”

  Thankfully, we hadn't dealt with any such disasters. But knowing my luck, as soon as I thought it, we would. I stopped at a flower that caught my eye. The bloom was plump, and the color was a ripe pink that looked delicate yet bold.

  “That’s a peony, by the way,” Tyler said.

  I bent down to smell it, my nostrils filling with its sweet scent.

  “I’d pick it for you in a grand romantic gesture, but I don’t want to pay a fine. Although, perhaps saying ‘to hell with the fine’ and picking it anyways is more romantic,” he added.

  I laughed. “Don’t pick it. Just remember it.” I trailed a finger along the petals.

  “How are you enjoying your week in paradise?” Well, it had been great...

  “It’s a rather refreshing change from the all the concrete, I must say.”

  “Yeah, looking over financial reports on the beach is much better than in an office,” Tyler said.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?” I didn’t plan on admitting that I'd also brought work with me, even though I hadn’t read the first submission since being here.

  “I am, but any little bit I can do while I’m here is less for me to do when I get back.”

  Tyler and I found a bench along the trail and sat, talking about this and that until it was time for brunch with my family.

  “I don’t really want to go,” I admitted.

  “Don’t,” he whispered, leaning in.

  “I wish it was that easy,” I said, standing. God, I’d wanted to kiss him, but I did not need to complicate my situation any more than it already was.

  Tyler walked me to the dining room and then headed off to see if his brother found a tux. I watched as he walked away, hoping that I hadn’t hurt his feelings by avoiding the kiss. God, you’re up shit creek.

  I spotted my family sitting at a table and made my way over. Grant was already there, and I could feel the tension when I sat. He didn’t acknowledge me and that was just fine. Seeing me with Tyler likely made him feel the same way I felt when I saw him with earring girl.

  Thankfully, Rebecca took the reins and we just had to listen to her giving our marching orders for today and tomorrow, which meant there was no awkward conversation.

  Derrick was suspiciously absent, and I made a note to ask Maisy later where he was, even though I definitely wasn
’t complaining about his not being here.

  The wedding was scheduled for sunset, and that meant timing was everything. Rebecca had decided not to pick just one of the sisters as her maid of honor, so we each had a share of the duties. It was my job to take and pick up the dresses from being steamed. The hotel had a wedding coordinator, but because Rebecca was a control freak, she wanted to oversee everything tomorrow. Which meant we’d all be trying to keep her calm while fixing any problems she likely made from nothing.

  Since Derrick was absent, Grant and Jordan’s brother, Miles, were put in charge of making sure the groom showed up on time and sober. We’d all witnessed the disaster that was our cousin Meredith’s wedding when her groom stumbled in, drunk as a skunk, twenty minutes late.

  “Okay, Sophie, if you want to go ahead and take the dresses to the cleaner’s today, they’ll be done in the morning and you can pick them up. We rented an SUV, so you’ll be able to fit everything in there.” Rebecca held her hand out to Jordan, who placed the keys in her palm, which she passed to me. “You’re not on the insurance, so be careful.”

  “Yes, Mother.” I dropped the keys down in my purse.

  Once we had our assignments, we dispersed. Grant followed me silently back to the room, where I gathered my bridesmaid dress and went to meet the other girls out in front of the hotel where we could load our dresses in the SUV and I could take them to the cleaners.

  “You don’t have to go with me,” I said as we hung the dresses up in the back.

  “It’s fine,” he said, shutting the door and getting in the passenger side.

  I searched for the cleaners in my GPS and pulled the SUV out of the awning. I wasn’t about to be the first one to break the silence and apologize. Sure, I may have been the one to make an ass out of myself, but he’s the one who ran straight to Little Miss Earring. The longer he was silent, the madder I got, until we were at the cleaners and I practically squealed into the parking space. I could see him looking sideways at me, but I ignored him, getting out and unloading the dresses.

  The way back to the hotel was equally silent and awkward, but as we pulled into the parking lot, he finally spoke.