Time and Space

by Rachel Robinson

  Chloe rolls her eyes. “You think princess cousins Oksana and Natalya will be okay with that? They flew here for a party. A fucking party is what we’ll be having. The party bus is stopping to pick up Windsor and Morganna before heading here. Your cousins are almost ready. This is going down,” Chloe explains, reading her itinerary. It’s not that I’m not grateful, I’m just…not as happy as I should be. I don’t feel like celebrating. After reading another fucking beautiful email from the man I hate, I’m having a hard time grasping what I have to celebrate. Hooray for doing what’s best for me and settling for second choice? I sigh. Giving Dax my all has been challenging.

  “You’re really having a hard time with this, aren’t you? You don’t want this at all?” Chloe asks, finally realizing I’m not fishing for compliments and attention. I’m really not into this.

  I bite the inside of my cheek. “I do. I do,” I lie. “It’s just a lot for something that everyone does. Weddings happen all the time. There’s so much pressure to have parties and showers and floral arrangements dripping with diamonds, and cake that tastes like Brad Pitt’s dick, that you forget what this whole thing is about to begin with.”

  Without looking up from her paper, she says, “God, I wonder how heavenly that tastes.”

  I stomp a heeled foot on the wood floor. “What about the rest of what I said?”

  She meets my eyes in the mirror. I turn to face her. “I get it,” she says, brushing a strand of hair that isn’t mine out of my face. “You’ll have fun. I promise. If it’s the last thing I do tonight, I’ll make sure you have a good time.”

  “I’m holding you to that, Chloe,” I whisper. My cousins, matching in black dresses that look similar to mine, come traipsing into my room, all thick accents and huge, sprayed hair.

  It’s hard to tell them apart when they’re not naked. Oksana has a mole at the bottom of her back, right where her ass starts. I know because of all the years they tried to be sneaky. She’d lift her shirt and show me and then pretend to be Natalya. Little bitch. Time didn’t help matters any. They have the same laugh lines. It’s creepy. “You. Look. Amazing,” one says. I assume it’s Natalya because she’s always been a touch nicer.

  “Thanks. I’m not sure about this wig and everything else. You both look stunning as always,” I compliment. They both smile, thank me, and reassure me that Chloe’s hard work is top-notch. The twins head to the kitchen to start pre-gaming. That’s the one good thing about Russian twins. Those bitches will drink everyone under the table quicker than you can say ‘vashe zrodye’. Cheers!

  I strap my Chanel purse over my shoulder and join my cousins. Chloe comes up behind us and drops pink penis straws in each of our glasses then says, “They’re almost here. Morganna says the bus is luxe. She also said Maverick was having a heart attack as he watched it drive away with Windsor in it.” I laugh because I know how protective of her Maverick is. The fact that he’s followed her to New York is a testament to that. “They’re not staying with us at the hotel, though,” Chloe mutters.

  Chloe tries to change the subject to music. She has enough nineties rap music loaded onto her phone to bring Tupac back to life. “Why? Where are they staying?”

  “They’re not staying in the city, Lainey. They have a house in the Hamptons for the weekend. They’ll just have a driver take them there after we’re done smashing the town flat. Their husbands are staying there too.” I already know. I don’t have to ask, but I will anyways just to say his name out loud.

  “Cody’s house.”

  She nods.

  “Of course. It’s a beautiful house.” It’s named after me. I’m jealous and it makes me crazy. Will Cody be there, too? Why do I care? Dax. You’re marrying Dax. I have to remind myself. I swallow the last of my wine without using the penis straw and hear the bus pull up in front of the house. Chloe’s mom has a very nice house in the suburbs. The walkway is manicured and lit beautifully. The twins hobble down the walk before me, and then Chloe, who has two roller suitcases and enough food and supplies for a week. You can never be too prepared, is what she says. Morganna bounds out of the bus, her heels higher than mine, and her dress just as short. Windsor is next. Her tanned legs appear as she carefully walks down the steps. Her long brown hair is styled in fifties waves, pinned in an updo, and her rich purple dress is also skintight. They both look flawless.

  “Children did your bodies well, ladies. Thank you for coming!” I hug them both one at a time, getting annihilated by their expensive perfumes and hair spray.

  “The wig. It’s fabulous,” Morganna says, nodding as she examines me with her sharp eyes. “I didn’t think we were going to get away from the hotel for a second. Her husband, bless him, didn’t want to let her leave. Wearing that.” Morganna nods behind her.

  Windsor blushes and looks down bashfully. “He’s an animal. What can I say?” she says.

  “The wig is something, huh? I’m channeling Windsor tonight. All brunette bombshell,” I say, flicking the long strands over my shoulder. It makes me feel different with darker hair. I kind of like it. Maybe in my new married life I’ll dye my white blonde hair dark for prosperity’s sake. Most women chop off their hair into the wife bob after the wedding. I’ll dye mine brown—transform into a new, here to stay, Lainey Redding.

  Chloe bought the fake hair, but if everyone knew why I’m keeping it on, then it would be a different set of compliments coming. Blending in when people are following you is of top priority. “Stop it! You guys ready to go?” Win asks, adjusting her shoe.

  I make introductions with my cousins and in no time everyone is sipping champagne and singing along to Chloe’s playlist while lounging in the back of this very plush vehicle. She really should get all the credit for music. Everyone knows all the words, embarrassingly enough. By the time we reach the edge of the city we’ve downed two bottles of champagne and talked about our favorite sexual positions. My cousins, while not married, seem to have all the experience. I guess twins really do everything together. Morganna is curious, Chloe is intrigued, and I’m a little grossed out.

  “One decent guy is hard enough to find during a night out. Imagine trying to find two! We’ll share if we have to,” Oksana says, giggling when her sister playfully hits her arm.

  “Ew,” I say. It comes out louder than I intend. “I mean, will you marry the same guy and share him then?”

  “Lainey, please,” Natalya chides. “We’re obviously not serious with these men we date. When it comes to finding husband material we won’t do it at bars.”

  “Yeah, Mother will probably do it for us,” Oksana scoffs. Sore subject.

  Morganna gets up and dances when a new song plays. She pulls Windsor up to her feet. “Come on, you. I only get you away from him for six hours a year. Let’s take wagers. I bet he’s following the bus right now, your little munchkins strapped in the back.”

  Windsor bites her lip. “He’d never put the kids in a cab,” she says, her voice growing louder as she contemplates it. “Would he? I mean, you’re right. He’ll show his face at some point during our night’s festivities. Steve will be on babysitting duty. That’s the wager I’m placing.”

  Morg laughs, throwing her head back. “It’s good practice for him,” she says, looking at me. “Is Dax in town tonight?”

  He is having his bachelor party tonight, but I’m not sure where. Dax didn’t make a big deal about it and I didn’t ask for specific details. It wasn’t as big of a deal as Chloe made this, so it will be low-key with his friends.

  I shrug. “I think he’s in Virginia Beach still. I’m not sure what his plans are.” Everyone turns to look at me like I just spoke another language.

  “Wow. You’re pretty trusting,” Natalya says, raising her voice over the music. Chloe catches the hint and turns it down.

  Windsor clears her throat. “She’s marrying him. Of course she trusts him,” she says.

  Chloe buts in with our itinerary. “Speaking of trust, everyone listen up!” Chloe shouts. We have b
ars and clubs that are color coded by our reservation type. VIP is red, which means our stops there will be longer than the yellows, which are just open seating, but a lot of fun. Orange bars are places that are a lot of fun, but will probably be super busy and/or have a line. Between Morganna and Chloe our evening is mapped out perfectly. She’s already checked us in to our hotel and arranged transportation for everyone. Shit is about to get crazy. The honking of cabs and the glare from the lights let us know we’ve arrived in NYC. The bus is high, so it gives a better vantage point to see the bustle of life. I think of Cody. We won’t be far from his apartment if we do visit one of the red bars.

  Chloe shoves a sash at me. “Put this on. It lets everyone know exactly how loose your morals are tonight. I have a list—don’t worry, it’s not long—of things you have to do before the night is over. Here,” she says, shoving a typed notecard at my face.

  I read it aloud while everyone laughs. “One. Seduce a stranger,” I say, raising my eyebrows. “Wow. That will be easy wearing a sash that says ‘bride’. Most men love that.” My sarcasm makes my friends giggle.

  Chloe nods furiously. “Men love it, Lainey. You’re almost taken. The almost part is a huge draw. They’ll be all over that shit like white on rice. Trust me. Go on, read the others.”

  “Take a body shot off someone. Oh, come on, this is juvenile!”

  “No, you should definitely do it,” Oksana chirps.

  I fold my arms across my chest. “Fine. Off you,” I say, giving a pointed look at my cousin. She shakes her head.

  I continue, “Take a picture with a man. And the last one is don’t say ‘no’ all night long.” I pause, look at Chloe, and then say, “Wow, you really set me up good here. I’m sure I won’t fail at all.” The introverted section of my brain is cringing while the other side is gloating with the ease in which these can be completed.

  “Perfect. Game on,” Chloe says. The rest of the women finish their drinks, strap their shoes back on, and get ready for our first stop at a red bar. Our driver deposits us in front of the entrance and gives Chloe a business card with his phone number so we can call him when we need a ride to our next stop. The subway isn’t safe enough for Maverick’s liking and our shoes aren’t solid enough for walking any place, really. This was a great idea.

  As we step onto the street, I hear a couple whistles and hoots because of this fucking sash. I’m garnering more attention than I’m comfortable with. The bar is loud, but our enormous leather table in the corner shields us from some of the noise. Bottles are waiting for us. The twins take empty glasses and shoot vodka straight. Windsor and I stare wide-eyed at their obvious talent. “Let’s go grab a couple of waters,” Windsor says. I nod and follow her through the crowd of people. Men ogle her and try to get her attention, but she is skilled at ignoring them.

  Working our way to a quiet corner, Windsor stops, turns to me, and says in a rush, “Lainey, are you happy? Wait, I know you’re happy, but are you ‘I want to get married happy?’ What you’ve been through is tough. You don’t have to do the stupid bachelorette stuff or drink out of plastic penises or even pretend you’re happy on our account. I want you to know that.”

  “You get it,” I say, leaning into her so she can hear me better. “I’m happy. I love him. I truly do. I want to marry him.” Positive affirmations. Say it enough and it will be a fact. The same goes with forgetting something. Don’t think about it and that shit never, ever happened.

  Windsor nods, accepting my lie. “I know what it feels like to be cheated on, lied to, and torn in two directions. If you don’t follow your heart you’ll regret it more than anything else in the world,” she says, with soulful eyes that belie her age. She’s been through a lot.

  “What does that say if I’m the liar and the cheater, though?” Cody and I are over. The kiss, though, and his emails lead me to believe something completely different. Remember his words, Lainey. You hate him, I remind myself.

  She bites her lip. “It says you’re human and you’re unsure about your life choices. I can’t tell you what the right decision is. I do know that when you make it you’ll feel peace, calm, and love so strong that you’ll feel it can destroy any doubt.”

  A shot of clear liquid appears in front of my face. “Suck it down, cousin!” Natalya yells. Chloe peeks over her shoulder guiltily. “You’re not allowed to say no, remember?” I have to smile at their attempts to be good, fun friends.

  I take the shot and raise it above my group of friends. “Here’s to not having any doubt!” I toast. Windsor smiles. I smile. Then I pour the vodka down my throat without tasting it.

  I mean, what’s one more lie to pile on the heap?

  Chapter Twenty

  Lainey

  “Schred or lorange?” someone asks. I have no clue who speaks because that would mean I’m sober. And I’m not that by a long shot. Speaking of shot, I just took one off a male go-go dancer’s stomach. I’m pretty sure he was gay, or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. He was skinny fit, as opposed to the hulking, muscular fit I’m used to.

  We’re headed down brick steps into a club pumping music so loud that I can’t hear myself think. Maybe that was the champagne we drank in the bus on the way to this club. It could be either. I put on my flats about three bars ago, but my feet still have blisters. Two thousand dollars for shoes that should be torture devices. The sick, sick world we live in.

  “What language was that?” I ask over my shoulder without letting go of the railing.

  Morganna steadies herself using my back and the side of the wall. “I made it up,” Morg says, laughing. “Lorange sounds like it belongs to a romantic language.” She sighs.

  “Or a drunk language, but who’s paying attention? You can do everything else. Why not create your own language?” I ask. “Chloe!” I yell. “Why did you pick this place?” We just came from uptown at a lounge on the top floor of a swanky hotel, now it seems we’re headed underground to a sex dungeon of the opposite caliber. It’s close to my salad café.

  “Trust me,” she yells back, her heels clacking far too hard. She’s going to pay the piper for those four inchers tomorrow morning. “This place is bitching!” she says, making her way next to me. “Have I led you stray yet?” I shake my head. We pass through the entrance and veer toward the VIP area. This place is so bitching. Chloe did well. As the drinks go down, the night gets more exhilarating. It’s a night out with my girls, plus my cousins, who seem to be on their best behavior. No three-ways are arranged at the moment. My phone vibrates in my purse. It’s a text from Dax. More specifically it’s a photo of a glittery ass, that I imagine smells like vanilla. Strippers always smell like fake vanilla. It’s a historical fact. I smile.

  The next text says, “Sorry. Someone got my phone.”

  So he is most definitely partying tonight. He wasn’t sure what the guys had planned when I spoke with him earlier. They must have kidnapped him. I wonder where they are. NYC is six hours from Virginia Beach, so if they drove here, they are just getting started.

  What would a response be from a concerned fiancée? I type out, “Glitter is a bitch to clean out of clothing. If you bring it home and get it in between the cracks of our hardwood you might not have hard (wood) for a while. In the city?” I double-check my words for spelling and because I am extremely drunk and hit send. I snap a selfie inside the dark club. It makes me look like a half vampire and send that, too.

  His reply is immediate. “Yes. I wish I were with you instead. Maybe later tonight?”

  Oksana pulls on my arm, hands me a drink, and says, “You can’t say no.”

  I type back a quick reply. “Not sure what Chloe’s plans are. See you soon. Don’t bring home the clap.”

  He texts back a sad face.

  “I love you,” I tap back quickly.

  In return, I get a smiley face. Tossing my phone back in my purse, I clasp it closed and then drink the lethal potion my cousin handed me. I should be mad or upset. I should care that he’s pote
ntially cheating on me right now, but I don’t. Guess what else? The fact that I don’t care doesn’t bother me either. The total indifference is what helps me get from day to day. Dax hasn’t broken up with me yet, and that’s something I never anticipated after I changed into this indifferent creature. I’m his project child that he needs to see through to the end, I think. Of course I love him, because I know he loves me, but I’m not sure at what cost. He wouldn’t hear me if I called him anyways. I shrug and start on another drink.

  I watch my friends dance around the table in our roped off area. It’s nice being away from the crowd by only several feet, but I don’t want to be cordoned off anymore. “I’m going in!” I announce loudly. Everyone, just as drunk as I am, smiles, waves, and continues dancing. The twins found a couple of guys to talk to at the adjoining VIP table, and Windsor and Morganna are holding each other up while they sway to a popular song. I double-check that my purse is secure across my chest and make my way into the mob with my arms up, carefree and feeling lighter than I have in months.

  I dance with random people as I head toward the center. I don’t care when men grab at my waist, I merely turn out of their grasp. The ‘bride’ sash is a magnet for the wrong kind of guys. Closing my eyes, I turn my face to the low ceiling and dance like no one is watching. I’m lost in the music, drunk on the sensations, and my mind void of anything else, when I feel a pair of large hands fold around my waist. Those same hands pull me back against a wide, hard chest. My breath catches. I let the arms fold completely around my sticky body.

  “Can I have this dance?” he whispers, his lips touching my ear as he asks for permission he doesn’t need.

  I can’t speak. I nod furiously. The crowd melts away and I can’t concentrate on anything except for where his skin touches mine. He spins me around, and my head spins a little more wildly than it was doing by itself.