Chapter 3 #2
“Oh, I’m sure I don’t need to go to a bachelor party,” I piped up.
“I know the cool girls are supposed to watch the strippers and pretend they’re bi for a night, but I’m just not into that.
Not that there’s anything wrong with dancing on tables for money because it’s work, you know.
They’re just making a living. But it seems weird to sit there while you guys are objectifying other women and just generally being gross. I’m not quite that much of a pick-me.”
I had no idea whether I was standing up for feminism or just being a prude.
Konstantin rolled his eyes and flipped one hand in the air like I was being ridiculous, but I wasn’t. I didn’t want to go to a strip club.
Nicolai rotated on the bed so that he was facing me a little more.
His voice was gentle, not like he was explaining something obvious to the stupid girl.
“The party is not at a strip club. It’s a reception in the private VIP area at the Omnia nightclub.
Cocktail dresses or formals for women, suits for men.
I assure you that everyone will remain decently clothed. ”
“Oh.” Now I felt like a rube. “I suppose that’s okay. But I don’t have a cocktail dress or a formal to wear. You can go. I’ll stay here. I can find a book or something to read.”
Nicolai looked back at his brother. “Is Clementine in town yet?”
Konstantin was still rubbing his face like he was trying to get something sticky off his cheeks. “Yeah, she texted me three days ago, saying she was going clubbing here without me because I was still in Boston.”
“Excellent.” Nicolai turned back to me with a sly little smile that was really pretty cute. “We’ll find something for you to wear.”
He took my hand and held it in his like he was soothing me, and I considered crawling up the wall to get the hell away from him because his clasp felt so gentle, so foreign.
People didn’t do that.
People weren’t gentle like that.
Not to me.
Not to someone they considered an interlude.
Nicolai said, “You’ll be the most beautiful woman there.”
I slipped my fingers away from his. “You don’t have to do that.”
Konstantin stood. “I have places I need to be. This chick?” He pointed at me. “You need to get out of this so-called marriage, Nico. This chick is a wreck. She’ll wreck you.”
“Konstantin, that’s enough. Stop.”
He grimaced, and his fists clenched by his sides. “Sorry, Lexi. Again, I’m worried about my brother, who is obviously still drunk if he thinks no one else is going to ask questions. Call Clementine if you want a rat’s ass chance in Hell at pulling this off.”
“Kostya, again.”
He sighed. “Fine. I’m sorry, Lexi. I’ll be more polite.
I’m rattled. I’m rattled at my brother, who for the last several years and as of yesterday was thoroughly against marriage as an institution and has announced dozens of times in all manners of company that having a family was never to be in his plans, at that guy suddenly showing up married. ”
“It’s not Lexi’s fault,” Nicolai said. “I insisted. Lexi is a decent human being who was trying to keep a drunkard out of trouble.”
“Yeah,” Konstantin muttered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Nicolai’s little brother disapproved of our ersatz marriage, and I didn’t blame him.
Nicolai saw his brother out of the suite and returned to sit beside me on the end of the bed, staring straight ahead at the wall. “I apologize for Kostya’s behavior.”
My whole body was rattling because everything Konstantin had said was true. “It’s fine.”
“That upset you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“When things got heated between Kostya and me. Kostya has always been . . . volatile, and he takes liberties with me because he has no one else to fight with. It’s always been that way between us. I am his older brother and have been responsible for him his whole life, so he fights with me.”
I scratched the white linen duvet cover. “It doesn’t matter.”
He reached over to where I was fidgeting and maybe vandalizing the duvet and took my hand in his. “It won’t happen again.”
“What, no one will ever question us about being insta-married again? People are definitely going to ask questions. Probably everyone.”
His thumb very gently stroked the back of my hand. “I’ll make sure I don’t get angry again, unless it’s absolutely necessary. I don’t like how scared you looked.” His solemn gaze was steady, serious. “It won’t happen again.”
That seemed like it needed an affirmation. “Okay.”
“I’ll text Clemmy to see if we can get on her schedule for a consult.” He glared at his phone. “In the meantime, it appears I have a few texts to reply to.”
I huffed a heh at him. “I’ll bet. How many?”
Nicolai was still scowling at his phone. “Everyone I know, it seems.”
My phone was silent and dark.
I’d surreptitiously checked Jimmy’s sisters’ socials that morning, trying to see what they’d done after the wedding, if they had accepted her and what they thought of her, the other woman who had stood up and spoken during our ceremony.
I hadn’t been able to find their accounts.
They’d not only thrown me out of the group chats, they’d blocked me on our socials.
My paltry friends and followers count was less than half what it had been only a week ago.
The only accounts still following me were my few high school buddies who weren’t in Jimmy’s circle.
Mostly my theatre nerd friends.
My very neglected theatre friends hadn’t abandoned me.
Yet, of course.
I had to remember that.
Yet.
My five-year desperate attempt to infiltrate the Johnson family hadn’t worked, and they’d mass-blocked me.
Nicolai was planning out loud about when he would dump me.
Everyone left, eventually. If my theatre nerd friends knew what was going on with me, they’d pull back and treat me like the pariah I was.
The truth hurts, you know.