Double Fated (Book One)

by C.K. Mullinax

  Chapter Twelve

  Momma-C and R-daddy drove up in a new Mercedes to get me, on Sunday morning at 6:55 a.m. She had requested that I wear a specific outfit for our family breakfast and the meeting at BlitZed. When Momma-C stepped out to hug me, I noticed she was wearing an outfit, similar to mine.

  “Your grandparents’ will be here in a minute. Whoa baby, you look spectacular…and, I love the highlights,” Momma-C told me.

  “Thanks! You look fabulous, too! Our matching outfits are stunning. Wait, where’s g-mom? I thought she was riding over with you,” I inquired.

  “She’s going to meet us, there. Grandma Edie and Aunt Tabby have her engrossed in something. You know how the three of them are when they get together…” she replied.

  Then, my R-daddy stepped out of the car, decked out in an Italian suit and I barely recognized him. I have seen him wearing ornate, jeweled silk vestments that make the Pope’s robes appear off-the-rack and frumpy. And, I have seen him dressed in greasy cover-alls’ at the garage…wearing jeans when he goes fishing…and khakis, button-ups shirts and ties. But, I have never seen him as a gypsy.

  His dirty blonde hair had turned rich brown and his normally light green eyes had turned a dark blue color. They were so dark, they almost looked black. My jaw dropped in utter amazement. Is he in there??? Somewhere???

  “R-daddy, you’re breathtaking!” I exclaimed as he gathered me in a familiar embrace.

  “Well thanks, baby girl. I told your Momma-C that we needed to get here a minute before the others. I wanted to give you a chance to get over my fancy new drive and slick Ay’sha duds. Oh by the way, my deep blue peepers and dark hair are man-made disguises. Doms can see through channeled illusions. But, tinted contacts and hair dye fool ‘em every time.

  “This is how I spent the first year of marriage – hiding everything about me behind a mask of a gypsy con artist. Don’t fret, though. I’m still your same old daddy underneath the flashy window dressing. And, try not to gasp when you hear me speak to your Poppy and Meemaw. I’ve gotta dramatic voice to match this persona.

  “I know your mommas’ have been instructing you about gypsy ways, behaviors and such. So, don’t be nervous. Your disguise is more breathtaking than mine will ever be. You’re a natural beauty, like your mothers’ and sisters’. Your traditional Ay’sha grandparents are looking forward to finally getting to lay eyes on you. Just relax and enjoy meeting your extended, traditional gypsy family…”

  Momma-C’s parents drove up before he could offer me any more words of encouragement. My parents put their arms around me as Bradwell Reigns parked his Escalade and got out to meet me.

  My Poppy was dashing, in a suave dark way. He stood about six feet tall and reminded me of a smooth undercover operative. He has dark brown hair, with just a hint of gray. I couldn’t tell if he had a tan or if his skin was naturally olive colored. Removing his expensive sunglasses revealed his unique eyes. They are light brown with flecks of green. With chiseled facial features and a five o’clock shadow, Bradwell Reigns is a very handsome man.

  “This must be Krista! Well, come over here and let me get a good look at you…” he requested.

  I stepped forward and smiled, demurely – just like my mommas’ had instructed me to do. After spinning around a couple of times, he hugged me without hesitation. He kissed me on the top of my head before he finally released me.

  “That’s really something, CiCi! She’s looks just like you did at that age. Here, let me show you…” he announced and opened his wallet to display a picture.

  My resemblance to a teenaged Momma-C was uncanny. She had the same honey blonde streaks in her hair. I stroked the picture and mindlessly mumbled, “…so beautiful.”

  My parents were beaming with pride and my R-daddy winked at me, knowingly. It truly looks like Momma-C is my biological mother.

  “Pricilla, you can get out. You’ve gotta see her, up-close…our granddaughter’s the spittin’ image of CiCi…gorgeous…” he said.

  His wife waited until he opened her door before stepping out to meet me.

  Pricilla Reigns was every bit as striking as her husband. Momma-C closely resembles her mother in the face. They also share the same small-frame, body shape. But, my Meemaw Pricilla has auburn hair, fair skin and green eyes that remind me of two emeralds. She was wearing an outfit that would make a Las Vegas showgirl envious. Her sparkling high-heels matched her gem-studded necklace and bracelet.

  My sorority sisters must still be asleep. Otherwise, they would be out here squealing and admiring. Becca would…

  Oh no, my sisters!!!

  My sisters’ will have no qualms coming outside half-dressed if they do happen to wake to this spectacular gypsy wonder. I don’t know how my new grandparents will react, but it won’t be pleasant. I should have asked my parents to pick me up in front of a church…

  “CiCi, you should be ashamed! I know I raised you better. The photographs you’ve shown to me of this beauty haven’t done her justice. How can I help you with landing her a respectable, gypsy husband when all I’ve got are common, gorger snapshots?? I’ve told you, time-and-time again no gorger can create a gypsy worthy photographic showcase.

  “Just look at her, Brad! She’s got every attractive Reigns’ feature…” Meemaw Pricilla declared, looking me over.

  “Not a single flaw…she’s perfect! There’s no doubt, that granddaughter of ours is a Reigns’, through-and-through…” he agreed.

  I blushed and thanked them, repeatedly. She continued to point out my family traits. And, he revealed numerous photos, proving her declarations. I was floored by the unbelievable family resemblances’. There’s no way Momma-C is Crazy Sally. But, there’s also no denying that I look just like her either.

  Poppie Bradwell was fully engaged in the conversation with his wife. He was simultaneously surveying his surroundings too. He really is like Tray, to the umpteenth power.

  “Please Almighty Creator, keep my half-naked sisters unconscious until we leave the vicinity!”

  My Meemaw Pricilla kept using the term “gorger”. I didn’t know what it meant, but I couldn’t ask my parents to explain it right then. Her use of the term sounded both negative and neutral, depending on what she was saying. So, I couldn’t decide if being a gorger was bad or good or something in the middle.

  “CiCi, I’m making this child an appointment with Sabatini. I’ll have Aunt Janis and the cousins come along with us to watch the babies for me. This will take an entire afternoon because we’ve got family photos to take, too. On second thought, I think we’ll need to book a day.

  “Brad, what do you think?” she inquired.

  “Book the day, sweetheart. Can’t rush perfection…” he replied, without skipping a single scanning-beat.

  “I’ll book the early morning at Lauret’s. CiCi, I expect you to bring Krista, fully prepared…even to the spa. We’ll sort through her outfits while she’s getting a facial. Do you need my help making…” my Meemaw said before Momma-C interrupted her.

  “Thank you, but no ma’am, I’ve got it covered. I promise I’ll deliver her photo-ready. I’ll call you sometime next week and we’ll arrange lunch to work out the details,” Momma-C respectfully replied.

  Two male joggers ran by. The expensive cars parked in front of my sorority captured their attention. Their stare-fest and made my Poppy nervous.

  “Time to go…” he interjected into their conversation.

  Momma-C and her mom instantly stopped talking.

  He put his arm around his wife, protectively. My Meemaw reached out to take my hand, so I would go with her.

  “Just follow us…” my R-daddy said, physically turning me by the shoulders and pointing me towards our car.

  I’m glad he gave me some warning about his voice. Otherwise, I would have believed he was possessed by something. R-daddy’s tone was deeper and sounded sinister. I never would have recognize
d it!

  We drove away and I breathed a loud sigh of relief.

  “Oh baby girl, there’s nothing to be nervous about,” R-daddy told me in his own voice.

  “You’re forgetting my P.J. clad sisters. I was terrified that one of them would wake up early, peek out the window and rouse the whole house admiring my gorgeous glitzy family. I don’t think Poppy Bradwell would be too pleased meeting one of my scantily dressed housemates, much less a gaggle of them…”

  “Not too please is a tremendous understatement…” Momma-C admitted, laughing.

  “Brad would take one look at her sorority siblings, shove Krista into that fancy SUV and we wouldn’t see her again until dooms-day,” R-daddy added, humorously.

  “Honey, I think you’re forgetting that g-mom and Grandma Edie would be hot on his trail if he grabbed her. I’d wager my dad wouldn’t be able to successfully hide her for more than an hour before they tracked him down…” Momma-C replied.

  “I have no doubt who’d get physical custody of our daughter. But, you gotta admit it would be worth paying admission to see the…three-ring argument between Stubborn – Obstinate – and Determined,” R-daddy informed us, laughing.

  “I won’t bother to ask which is who in that fight because the labels in this case, are completely interchangeable…” Momma-C offered through snickers.

  “Momma-C, why didn’t they bring Scarlett? This is her big event…” I asked once I stopped giggling.

  “They did, baby…she’s with them. You’ll meet her at the restaurant. She’s been looking forward to talking to you. She doesn’t get to hang out with many young people. Remember, she’s fifteen, but she’s been homeschooled.

  “She’ll be thrilled to visit Sabatini, too. A day long photography session will be like a trip to the beach for her…”

  “Speaking of pictures…I’m dying to know what a ‘gorger’ is,” I inquired.

  “A gorger is a term gypsies use to describe outsiders. And, I’d say it borders more on the derogatory side, so please don’t use it. You and g-mom are not considered gorgers. You’ve both been spiritually sealed to an Ay’sha matriarch. And, you’re also maternally sealed to Momma-G and me. A spiritual sealing is considered more binding than a relational blood-tie, according to traditional gypsy custom.

  “Gayle is more “my sister” than Scarlett or my other biological sisters…

  “I gave birth to Vixie and Lillen. But, according to traveler standards’, my kids who are spiritually sealed to me are more “my children” than my biological offspring…” Momma-C revealed, suddenly sounding troubled.

  “So, what about Grandma and g-mom…where do they fit into the ‘spiritual scheme of things’?” I questioned.

  “Rave Honey, mind helping me out…” she asked him with an emotional edge to her voice.

  I wonder if something’s wrong…

  “Let’s see…Brad and Pricilla view your Grandma Edie and Elizabeth as Celeste’s two g-moms. How’s that??”

  “I get it now…thanks,” I told him.

  “Placing aside their illustrious careers as con artists, traditional gypsies are deeply spiritual. They have an abiding reverence for anything the Creator joins,” R-daddy stated.

  “Are you and Momma-C spiritually sealed through the Covenant Rites?” I asked attempting to sway the conversation to a topic Momma-C will be comfortable with.

  “No, Daddy-Jax and Momma-G, Ember and Jaysen, and Tray and Willow are. Reid and Fallon are sealed too. They only have the communion ritual left to observe. But, your Momma-C and I are spiritually sealed through Vaydemic rites. It’s a little different…” he stated and then, hesitated when he glanced at her.

  “I’m sorry…I’m being nosy…”

  “No…you’re not…it’s fine…my baby girl…” Momma-C stated and her voice cracked.

  She is upset!

  “It’s okay, little momma…” R-daddy said, comfortingly and patted her leg.

  Evidently, he knows what’s wrong.

  “It’s done now. I didn’t think it would be this hard…” she told him.

  “I know. It’s all gonna be okay…”

  “Pull into that gas station, please,” she requested. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back…”

  Momma-C bolted for the ladies room.

  “Wait right here, little girl…” R-daddy said to me and got out long enough to say something to Poppy.

  “Is my momma okay? What’s wrong? Can I fix it??” I bombarded R-daddy with questions the instant he got back in.

  “She’ll be fine. You know, Krista…your traveler grandparents have already met all of your brothers and sisters. The circumstances of their introductions were a whole lot different than the one you’re having. They were married with little ones. So, Brad and Pricilla naturally, gravitated towards the babies.

  “And, we successfully delayed their intros’ long enough for your Momma-C to get settled into the idea of sharing them. She got to spend private, quality parenting time with each of your siblings, before the big, extended gypsy family reveal. You’re her youngest girl and she’s been sorta keeping you to herself.

  “Your Momma-G’s been doing the same thing. That reminds me – I better call and give your Daddy-Jax some warning. He doesn’t fair very well when Momma-G gets emotional…

  “At any rate, Celeste’s mom has pressured her about getting to meet you since you were sealed. She’s dodged her requests. That’s an amazing feat because, as you very well know, gypsy kids don’t defy their mom’s.

  “Pricilla got upset by her refusal. So, Brad outright ordered Celeste to bring you over to meet them. Don’t ask me how, but she avoided her father’s demand too.

  “They’ve seen thousands of pictures of you. They heard us talk about you…brag on you. Brad and Pricilla are elated that this is finally happening. But, your Momma-C wasn’t ready for this. She’s being forced to share her baby. And, she’s doing it for Scarlett. Still, it’s a big sacrifice. Gypsy families are overwhelming…”

  Momma-C emerged from the convenience store, smiling and flawless. Now that I understood the problem, I could see right through her façade.

  I jumped out of the car and ran over to embrace her.

  “I love you, momma…” I told her.

  “I love you too, baby…” she replied.

  She climbed into the backseat with me because I asked her to. I laid my head in her lap and spent the remaining twenty minutes catching her up on my life. I told her about breaking up with Lyle, my first-round cheering competition coming up, the musical lead that I got shoved into, my sorority sisters’ reactions to my incredible new wardrobe and how I met Audrey. When the subject of the flash mob came up, I even shared my insane thought about Wally the jock and his lack of a bra.

  Momma-C told me all about the screening I missed and Tray’s hilarious commentary as he narrated the video in brotherly exasperation. We were breathless from laughter by the time we pulled into the parking lot.

  “Wait, before we get out, I’ve got something to say. I love you so, so much. Remember when I said I’d clear my schedule for you, anytime? I meant that! I truly miss you and you can have me, privately anytime you want me.

  “I know I have four mothers’ and I adore each of you. But, no one can ever take your place in my heart, because you’re my one and only Momma-C…” I stated and we embraced again.

  “Thank you, baby. I’ll be taking you up on that…often,” she informed me.

  Scarlett waited for her dad to open her door, just like her mother. She rushed over to her sister and brother-in-law and gave them each hugs and kisses. Then, my parents introduced us and she welcomed me just like I was her sister, too.

  Scarlett Reigns has her mom’s long, auburn hair and her dad’s eye coloring. She shares facial features with both of her parents. Although she was wearing jewelry, her fingers were oddly bare.

  I thought those three introductions would be it until the
Warming Feast…that would wind up being an erroneous assumption.

  The restaurant’s party room was stuffed with my extended gypsy family members. Momma-C guided me around and made the introductions. R-daddy’s words became reality as I was overwhelmed by greetings, hugs and kisses from virtual strangers. I spun around repeatedly, to let everyone see me. Momma-C and I were blinded by camera flashes as we posed for a myriad of pictures.

  No wonder my grandparents asked to meet for breakfast so early. Nearly an hour elapsed before I had made my way back to Scarlett. She was holding three boys on her very small lap. The instant I was sitting, two of them reached for me. Without waiting for an invitation, they climbed into my lap and hugged me.

  “That’s your cousin, Arnie and that’s your second cousin, Brady…” she revealed the names of my unexpected company.

  “Will everyone here be joining us at BlitZed?” I had to practically shout the question to be heard over the commotion.

  “No, Silly. They’re just here for you…”

  I would discover that this breakfast was actually a ‘welcome to the family’ gathering for me. And, another one would be planned for my g-mom, soon because she wasn’t available to come to this one.

  Over the course of my life, my g-mom has taken me to hundreds of parties. She’s hosted elaborate celebrations with hundreds in attendance. And, we have even crashed parties that had a thousand guests. So, I am accustomed to hoopla-and-fanfare – both, scheduled and sudden. However, a gypsy gathering is the hoopla of all hoopla’s.

  During the meal, I got a small glimpse at the massive undertaking the Warming and the Hosting are for my moms’. This breakfast, according to Scarlett, isn’t considered a party, more than it’s considered a casual family gathering. I shudder to think what a real gypsy party will look like if this is a low-key family meal.

  I have never been more thankful for a scheduled meeting. The restaurant staff appeared to be grateful to see us go, too. I noticed more than several $100 tips resting on tables. Considering a 20% gratuity had also been added to everyone’s bill, I assume they won’t be too unhappy cleaning up behind us.

  After reissuing hugs, kisses and saying fifty “goodbyes” and “thank you’s” we headed over to BlitZed.

  G-mom came outside with her personal giant to meet us. She was dressed just like me and Momma-C. My g-mom made Scarlett turn around to get a good look at her.

  “You’re radiant…a little slip of your beautiful mom…that’s what you are…” g-mom told her.

  “Thank you, Momma-Elizabeth. You look beautiful, too…” Scarlett responded, demurely.

  “Momma-Elizabeth…this is my mother-in-law, Pricilla and her husband, Bradwell Reigns…” R-daddy introduced them.

  “Well, don’t just stand there…spin it out for me, so I can see you better. And then, come over here and give me some love,” g-mom ordered and I covered my mouth right before I snickered.

  Stunned, they reluctantly obeyed her command to twirl on cue like fashion models. But, they happily embraced her and welcomed her to the Reigns’ family. She responded by complimenting them and called them her glam-kids. G-mom needs no assistance fitting into her traditional gypsy family.

  “This here, big man is, Sebastian Race – head of security. His co-workers refer to him as Ice Man, but we’ll just be stickin’ with Mr. Race. He isn’t much of a talker, but he’ll be happy to perform the necessary introduction to his boss, Nigel Gray. Mr. Gray is the managing partner…” g-mom informed us.

  “This way…” the giant stated and motioned us to go inside.

  Mr. Gray approached us and I was floored by his appearance. Obviously, my g-mom had somehow given him a make-over. He had two distinct and nicely-shaped eye brows. His mustache was still present, but it was respectably trimmed. Although his signature styling gel was evident, his hair had a more natural look. And, although I couldn’t be completely sure, it almost looks like he had gotten a haircut. Nigel Gray appears to be an entirely new man.

  Two transformations in one day – incredible…

  After the introductions were dispensed with, Mr. Gray took us on an impromptu tour of his clubs. Besides BlitZed, he also owns SiZzle, Z-Force, GroundZero and HaZed.

  “Z-Force is GZ’s smallest club but, it’s the most popular one we own. She’s the top dog…our crowning jewel. Nightclubs have to be continually updated. They lose their appeal, quick because we’ve got some fierce competition. Z-Force has kept the number one spot on the DC strip because of me and my management. I’ve changed the look, feel and atmosphere four times over the course of the last three years…” Mr. Gray informed us, proudly.

  “What’s ‘the DC strip’?” my Poppy asked.

  “The college-locals call this road the DC Strip because of all the clubs. I’ve heard it stands for ‘Dazed and Confused” or “Drunken Confusion”. I personally call it that because it’s been a “Decadent Commodity”…” he responded, holding the door opened for us as we walked back into BlitZed.

  “Speaking of ‘locals’ milling around, we are not inviting any. The road needs to be blocked off. We’ll handle who gets beyond the barricades. This is going to be a very private party. We’re not requiring anyone to show I.D. because we’ll know all of our guests. There won’t be any underage drinking…” Poppy informed him and appeared to be holding out for a reaction.

  “My security personnel have strict enforcement protocols…” Mr. Gray shot back.

  Poppy smiled slyly before he turned around to face him. Mr. Gray almost plowed into him because he stopped so abruptly.

  “My family will be providing all the enforcement and it’s all we’ll need…” he declared.

  “The doors don’t open unless Ice Man’s on the clock and my staff…” he tried to respond.

  “We are willing to grant an exception to your head of security, but no one else. My family handles our own affairs…” Poppy interjected.

  “Your family can’t possibly cover security for all five of my clubs! What guarantee do I have?”

  “You’ll have my word…” he interrupted him, again.

  My Poppy sounds dead serious. But, for some odd reason, I think he’s just toying around with him. It’s like he’s trying to see where the man’s buttons are and what it takes to push them. The tension started building. My R-daddy physically stepped between them…forcing them to make some space.

  “Gray, our family doesn’t get down to business until the men are seated at the bargaining table.

  “Ladies, if you don’t mind, you can wait here, near the dance floor. I’m sure Mr. Race can offer you some beverages and turn on the music for your entertainment. We’ll just be right over there, should you need us…” R-daddy said in his deep gypsy voice.

  The men sat on the other side of the room.

  Poppy doesn’t negotiate in front of females, but he’s not letting us out of his sight either. Going into a closed office is out of the question. So, the music would have to suffice for giving them some privacy.

  Originally, Scarlett and I sat down with our moms’. The Ice giant took our drink orders and wordlessly delivered them to the table. G-mom was getting acquainted with my Meemaw Pricilla and Momma-C was facilitating the process. Scarlett added in a few comments, but she kept wishfully looking at the dance floor.

  “Comon’ girl…dance with me…” I coaxed, grabbed her hand and led the way.

  BlitZed was so crowded last night that I could barely move. But, for the moment, this is our own, personal club. The music was echoing off the empty walls. We danced around the floor like we would never get to dance again.

  An hour later the men were still engrossed in their meeting. Scarlett still had plenty of energy, but I was out of steam. My body is trying to adjust to my new schedule. Plus, I didn’t have Tray perform his nightly obliteration on me. I was scared I would sleep through my alarm because I got home so late.

  My stress induced yawn
ing disorder also had me in its evil clutches all morning. Even while I was dancing, I kept covering my yawns. I had a dire need to rub my eyes. They were dry and itchy. I’m obviously exhausted on top of being riddled with stress…

  Ice Man followed me over to the bar.

  “Clandestine Double Red-Bull in a tall glass with ice, please…”

  He opened the cans out of view, but g-mom and Momma-C knew what I was drinking, regardless. I blew them each a kiss, sipped the drink and then, yawned. They paid me a look of concern as I sat down at a nearby table to chat with Scarlett.

  Our conversation was an interesting mix of subjects. I covered my brothers and sisters, niece and nephews, classes, extra-curricular activities and a little about my classes. Careful to sensor what I said, I kept every tale G-rated. Also, I intentionally mentioned my chaperone with every college detail I shared.

  She covered a multitude of gypsy girl topics. Scarlett has an amazing ability to seamlessly flow from one random subject to the next with ease. She started out telling me about her cooking skills, before discussing current gypsy fashion trends for wedding celebrations. Incredible and little known household cleaning hints, led into a discussion of baby names, before it turned into a chat about jewelry and wound up with a six minute, year-by-year highlights of her happy, sheltered childhood as an Ay’sha traveler daughter.

  Between her skilled conversational abilities, my exhaustion and the general topics, I relaxed. Still, I remained mindful of my captive audience because she will report everything I say to her parents. They are her entire world. Sharing even her most intimate secrets with them comes naturally to her.

  I was holding my own and feeling confident about the neutral conversation. Then, Scarlett went from informing me of how she wants at least eight kids, to my current housing situation. That’s where I got stymied.

  Jarron and my brothers can’t very well live in my sorority, but that little issue wasn’t something I had even considered when Scarlett sprang the question on me, “…but, who takes care of you at home if you don’t have a sorority mother on site?”

  I nervously twirled a strand of hair, trying to think of a gypsy-appropriate answer. My mind drew a total blank. In desperation I distracted her by asking a question about Dylan. Fortunately, that is a subject she can’t resist talking about.

  Scarlett had managed to squeeze in his name, at least every third sentence. But, when I brought him up, her eyes sparkled. She took my question as permission to freely talk about him.

  It is clear Scarlet loves Dylan and wants to be with him. But, it’s also very evident that she adores her dad. She clings to him, works hard to gain his approval and always looks at him with an almost hero-like worship.

  Momma-C was correct in her assessment. Scarlett Reigns is a daddy’s girl.

  Ember will be so relieved. I can now, confirm that Scarlett really loves her gypsy life and she is not being held prisoner.

  The men all shook hands and the deal had been struck. The Warming Feast was scheduled for next Sunday night. That’s not very much time for planning, but Momma-C and g-mom seemed pleased.

  This time on the ride, I laid my head in g-mom’s lap. I battled my eyelids while she stroked my hair.

  “How’d you get my dad to give Gray some wiggle room? I felt bad for the little guy…” Momma-C asked.

  “Brad and Gray both loosened up without too much assistance…” R-Daddy revealed, humbly.

  “Honey, I think you’ve forgotten that I was raised by Bradwell Reigns. Unless he’s bargaining with another Dom, the negotiations typically last for two or three days. I’ve just gotta know how you did it – please…” she inquired.

  “Well, maybe, I did help grease the wheels…a little bit. I gave Gray a few small incentives to see things Brad’s way. Your dad wasn’t about to budge on the I.D. and gypsy only security issues. So, I doubled what Gray was asking for in rental and gave him a refundable deposit equal to the replacement cost of his largest building…” R-daddy told her.

  I automatically, gasped and g-mom blurted out, “…that really wasn’t necessary.” We simultaneously apologized. I said sorry for eavesdropping while they are discussing money matters. And, she offered hers for interfering.

  “You’re not eavesdropping, baby. Our finances are yours and g-mom’s, too. You should know that by now…” Momma-C told us, sounding hurt.

  I caught myself right before I said, “I’m sorry…” again. Apologizing will only make her feel worse.

  “I do know that, Momma-C. My brain’s not functioning…too much input…not enough downtime…I’m tired,” I offered her the valid excuses.

  She looked back to make sure I was lying down and I smiled at her.

  I got a job at the Java Den because I liked having my own cash. But, earning a paycheck has never been a necessity in my life. My debit card is linked to our family account and my credit card bills go to the accountant. I don’t know how much money we have in the bank. I have never had an occasion to wonder about it, so I have never looked. My credit cards have no limit that I’m aware of either.

  My g-daddy had a hefty life insurance policy when he passed away. My g-mom was financially set for the rest of her life. But, even she uses our family money.

  I really need some sleep, if I’m forgetting something like that…

  “And Liz, I’m not accepting that apology from you either. I’m assuming your interference is what spiffed up Gray before our arrival. That was a lifesaver! Brad would still be entertaining himself wheelin’-and-dealin’ – and I’d still be greasing the spokes, without your intervention. If the managing partner had shown up looking like he did in all those pictures hanging in the hallways, Brad would’ve had a field day making him look foolish.

  “Like all Doms, Celeste’s dad lives for the sport of striking a bargain through dealing. That game Brad had going would’ve continued indefinitely if Gray had walked up to us looking like a disheveled, wooly-booger. I had to position my body between the photos and Brad, every time we walked by one so he couldn’t see what Gray used to look like. I’ve never known a man to let a mustache grow halfway up his cheeks before today…

  “That wasn’t a very neighborly observation of me to make. Now, I’m the one that should say, sorry…” R-daddy stated.

  “Oh, don’t feel bad. I originally thought that mustache was glued on to his face as part of a bad disguise. I told him as much too. When he informed me otherwise, I didn’t bat an eyelash or apologize…”

  “You didn’t???” we questioned her, in unison.

  “The truth’s the truth…and I didn’t have time for sugar-coating. Well, I did soften it a little afterwards, because he was stunned by my blatant honesty. I needed him to get moving. I ordered Sebastian to locate an emergency trimmer and he took off like I pulled a gun or pay him a salary. Then, I launched into a speech about locating the handsome man who must be hiding underneath the fuzz. Viola’…mission accomplished, well sorta…I’m not a plastic surgeon or a miracle-worker…” g-mom revealed and had us all in stitches.

  Closing my eyes, I listened as R-daddy shared the details of their final bargain.

  Mr. Gray agreed to let members of my gypsy family cover the barricades and main entrances. They would issue wristbands to everyone underage. In concession, Poppy agreed to let him hire his own bouncers, wait staff and bartenders provided they were all locals.

  My Poppy agreed that our family would keep a vigilant watch over the minors in the club and prevent them from drinking alcohol. Mr. Gray agreed to that, conditionally. He would instruct the bouncers that they are to be extra sets of watchful eyes, only. But, if they see anyone underage consuming alcohol, they will report them to Mr. Race who will handle it at his discretion.

  Both parties agreed that anyone caught fighting would be escorted outside. The matter will be handled by our family, off the property. They also established that no local is allowed to interfere in an a
ltercation. Mr. Race would intervene and take action only if the Doms couldn’t get the situation under control. That was highly improbable, but Poppy approved the concession to make Mr. Gray feel like he was getting something.

  Banquet tables and priority seating for the bride’s family and groom’s family would be set-up on the stage in BlitZed. The food had to be prepared, brought in and served by a licensed catering company with a fully local staff. According to R-daddy, this was the detail that took the longest to negotiate.

  The Warming Feast is typically prepared by the bride’s family. It’s a matter of pride for the bride-to-be to show off her culinary skills before the wedding.

  “Gray beat around about forty bushes before he finally said he would have to call in a local for a sanitation inspection during the festivities. Brad relented immediately and that ended the debate. It’ll be catered. But, it would’ve saved us a good hour if he’d just started with that detail, instead of telling us nine times over that none of his clubs have a kitchen…” R-daddy told us.

  I took the term local to mean ungifted humans. No one mentioned what realm Mr. Gray hails from, but it must be a place that has spiritually gifted people. I assume Poppy wouldn’t have been so insistent on only having locals if Mr. Gray were some poorly dressed, mousy human millionaire.

  Sebastian Race must be gifted, as well. That explains a lot in terms of his ability to motivate young intoxicated co-eds to leave without protest. So, all the serial killer tales and criminal dramas surrounding Ice Man are nothing more than Ember-intrigues. Oh well…

  Relaxed and comfortable, the exhaustion caught up with me. My thoughts began to wander.

  Maybe Mr. Gray’s uni-brow and cozy cheeky mustache are considered hot in his home world…

  That was the last thing I thought, before I fell asleep.