23. Brooklyn
brOOKLYN
“So, what are you guys doing for Luka’s birthday?” Emzee asks, ripping open a bag of peanut butter pretzels.
We’re at a park near her apartment, her dog Munchkin doing his best to keep up with Mr. Kibbles as they frolic around the fenced-in area for smaller dogs. Who knew a pudgy French bulldog and a greyhound would be such good friends? They make quite a comical-looking duo.
I cringe. “Uh, I’m still working on it.”
Truthfully, I had no idea his birthday was coming up. Some wife I am. Then again, I’ve been too busy fighting with him to remember I also secretly love the guy. Sometimes.
“Then you have no plans yet!” Emzee says around a mouthful of pretzels, and I get the impression she’s strangely pleased that I’ve dropped the ball on my wifely duties. She swallows and clears her throat. “This is perfect, because I know exactly what all of us need.”
“All of us?” I repeat. “You mean, like…the whole family?”
She nods, passing me the bag. “A spur-of-the-moment Bahamas getaway at an all-inclusive resort. We could really use a distraction from the trial news that’s all over social media and on TV, and plus it’ll give us all a chance to reconnect. It’s a win-win.”
I give it a think as I chew, debating the pros and cons.
It would be nice to have a break from all the tension lately, and there’s no way Luka will stay in a pissy mood when he’s around his family.
And bonding with the whole Zoric clan would be a major step in the right direction for our on-the-rocks marriage.
“That actually sounds amazing,” I finally admit. “And with Luka’s birthday coming up, it’s the perfect time for him to take a few days off. Although I doubt he’ll agree.”
“Don’t be so sure about that,” Emzee says. “Stefan’s a total workaholic too, and Tori convinced him in one day. Or should I say one night…”
She gives me a devious eyebrow wiggle and I have to laugh.
“I’ll do my best,” I tell her. “But I can’t make any promises.”
“That’s too bad,” she says. “Because I already booked the trip.”
My jaw falls open. “What?”
Emzee clasps her hands in front of her like she’s praying.
“Don’t be mad! The deal was too good to pass up and I was afraid it would sell out!
I’m sending you the itinerary now. This place is so gorgeous, Brooklyn, you’re going to love it.
Me, you, and Tori can get manicures at the spa and sit around the pool all day drinking rum punches with those little paper umbrellas. ”
“That would be heaven…” I admit, my mind already filling with images of palm trees.
She whips out her cell and taps at it with a look of triumph on her face, and my phone pings almost immediately with an email.
My sister-in-law jumping the gun on booking this trip does not surprise me in the least, but it does make me feel panicked over how exactly I’m going to get my husband on board with all of this.
But God, I’d love to feel like things are normal again. Like I belong.
“I’ll figure it out,” I tell her.
“I’m sure you have your ways. You’re his wife. You know all his weaknesses.”
I laugh along with her, but in reality, I still have a lot to learn about my husband. Thanks to our disaster of a honeymoon, I didn’t get the chance to extend the “get to know you” game that couples usually play. Nor has there been a natural progression in intimacy between us, so…
We get the dogs back on their leashes and then part ways with a hug, me promising to call Emzee as soon as I’ve gotten a solid yes from Luka.
Back at the apartment, I sink onto the couch to scroll through the itinerary.
White sand beaches. Clear, blue-green water.
Sunny weather for days. And all the fruity drinks I can handle.
I am so on board with this trip. Not just for some time out of this damn penthouse, but for the chance to reconnect with my sisters-in-law, too.
I don’t see Tori or Emzee as often as I’d like, and our schedules rarely align so that we’re all free to meet up at the same time.
My mind wanders to the three of us on the beach, gossiping and spilling secrets as we sip cold drinks and maintain a nice buzz all day.
I’m sure Tori would like some uninterrupted time with Stefan, too, and I know Luka and I could use some alone time in a different setting.
I imagine he’ll enjoy seeing me sashay around in a string bikini—and if he’s lucky, nothing at all when we’re alone in our room.
Maybe getting out of here will break the dysfunctional routine we’ve fallen into. Rejuvenate our relationship. Maybe it’ll even help Luka realize that he wants to work on it.
The gears in my head start turning. Normally, I’d go the seductive route.
Slip into something sexy, drop to my knees, and suck him off until he’s putty in my hands.
With Luka, sex is basically foolproof as a method of persuasion.
But nowadays, the sex we have is so wrapped up in anger and resentment that I don’t think it’s the best way to go.
The whole “dutiful wife” routine has also been played out at this point. I need to think on it some more.
I spend the next hour brainstorming, googling, and engaging in a carefully worded conversation with my mom about how to make one’s husband agree to one’s vacation plans.
“You’ll need to do more than just surprise him with a cake or give him a little extra wink-wink in the bedroom,” she explains.
“Mom! Do not talk about ‘wink-wink’ with me!” I plead. “But I don’t know what will work. Begging won’t cut it. He’s more married to his job than to me, and it’ll be a week off.”
“Listen,” she says soothingly. “And this is just what I’ve learned through my own observations, so I can’t guarantee anything. But most men tend to be prideful, especially around their colleagues. They’ll do just about anything to save face in the moment.”
“So I need to put him on the spot,” I say, nodding to myself. “Back him into a corner.”
“A loving corner,” my mom adds.
Finally, with the help of my mom, I pull together a solid idea that seems like it can’t fail—and then call Emzee immediately to invite her in on it.
She laughs. “I had no idea you had such a conniving streak. I knew I liked you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I say. “Now let the games begin.”
The next morning, I wait for Luka to leave, then have a leisurely morning walking the dog, picking up breakfast at the corner bagel shop, and then showering with all my fanciest bath products.
Once my hair is blow-dried and softly tousled, I apply just a touch of makeup and then slip into a flouncy blue dress and wedge heels.
I want to look nice enough to win him over, but without overdoing it. This is a performance, after all.
I go to the party supply store first, then pick up the cake I ordered from the bakery. An hour later, I meet Emzee in the parking lot of Danica Rose Management’s offices in The Loop. As I try to wrestle a million balloons out of the backseat of my car, Emzee starts giggling.
“Talk about festive!” she says. “It looks like you’re going to float away with all of those. How many birthday balloons did you buy?”
“Literally one of every kind they had in the store,” I admit. “Including superheroes, sports themed, and the cute baby animal ones meant for kids.”
“My brother is going to be so embarrassed,” Emzee squeals. “I can’t wait!”
She’s got two large travel carriers of dark roast from Luka’s favorite coffee house down the street, and a tote bag filled with some wrapped gifts for emphasis.
We stride into the lobby with our cargo, take the elevator up, and then head down the hallway.
I shush Luka’s assistant Damien as he opens his mouth to protest us striding toward the conference room door like a two-person birthday parade extravaganza.
DRM’s weekly mandatory staff meeting is going on, and under ordinary circumstances there’s no way in hell I’d ever purposely disturb Luka during one of these.
I’m sure I’ll be in trouble with him later, but the Bahamas are involved, so I don’t care.
A grinning Damien appears at our side, and I show him the cake box. “Early birthday surprise,” I whisper.
“I never would have guessed,” he whispers back. “I support your shenanigans.”
He pushes open the door for us, holding it so we can go through with our hands full. I make a mental note to bring him a huge slice of cake afterward with my thanks.
We’re entering at the rear of the room, everyone’s backs facing us, so Emzee and I are able to quietly tiptoe inside with the cake, the coffees, the presents, and the ridiculously huge balloon bouquet.
Emzee can’t hold back a giggle, and suddenly everyone turns in their chairs and looks at us in shock.
Luka’s eyes widen and then his gaze falls to me, but all I see is surprise.
“Happy birthday, darling!” I say, slipping the cake box onto the conference table in front of him. I flip open the lid, displaying the fancy lettering and frosting swirls, and smile at him sweetly. “Hope everyone likes chocolate truffle cream,” I announce loudly.
Meanwhile, Emzee sets down the bag of presents and one of the coffee carriers and then starts giving people fresh refills on their lukewarm conference coffees with the other one.
It’s obvious that the Danica Rose staff is more than happy for the interruption and the treats. Everyone is smiling. Everyone but him.
I lean down and give Luka a kiss on the cheek. “Are you surprised?”
He looks at the cake and rubs the nonexistent stubble on his chin, his trademark move when he’s trying to stop himself from blurting out words he’ll probably regret later.
I smile even wider, half expecting him to have a bit of a tirade over this intrusion.
But instead he sets both hands on the table and shakes his head as if he can’t believe it.
“Shocked is probably more accurate,” he says. Looking around the room and then zeroing in on Emzee, he pulls his lips into a tight line. “Was this my baby sister’s evil plan? I’m sure she told you how much I hate surprises.”
“Nope, it was all Brooklyn’s idea,” Emzee crows. “I just egged her on!”
I always love being thrown under the bus. Still, I don’t let it take my smile down. “It was a combined effort, actually,” I say. “Here, I’ll just cut you a quick slice and then we’ll get on out of here so you and the staff can get back to it.”
“Let’s all sing ‘Happy Birthday’!” Emzee looks around the room for support. She raises her hands as if she’s going to conduct, but Luka’s hard voice stops her.
“That would be nice, but as I’m sure you know, it’s not actually my birthday today.” If his voice were a rubber band, it would be near snapping.
I wave a hand dismissively and slide a slice of cake onto a paper plate for him. “I know! But considering that I’m giving you a trip to the Bahamas with your family for your actual birthday, you won’t be here to celebrate with your colleagues. So, we’re doing it early!”
Everyone oohs and ahhhs and starts clapping while my husband tries so, so hard not to slice me to pieces with his eyes.
“Wow,” he grinds out. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
My mother was right. There’s no way he can reject me in this situation, with the entire conference room applauding me and thinking he’s the luckiest guy in the world right now.
I bend down and kiss him on the cheek. “Oh, you’re so welcome, darling. I know we’re going to have the best time!”
His eyes narrow in annoyance, but before he can say anything, people start lining up for cake, chattering excitedly and batting playfully at the balloon bouquet. They’re like a bunch of kids at a party. Luka’s going to have quite a job of calming them all back down.
“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he finally says back, letting his eyes trail down my body suggestively. “I’m already thinking of ways to repay you.”
With that, my cheeks flushing hot and my pulse kicking up, I cut that extra big thank-you slice for Damien, then nod at Emzee to join me at the door. Feeling triumphant and pleased with myself, I saunter out with my sister-in-law at my side and let the door fall shut behind us.
“Here you go, Damien,” I say, setting the cake down on the assistant’s desk as we pass by. “I owe you one.”
“How’d it go in there?” he asks, digging in.
“It was perfection,” Emzee coos, and we practically dance our way to the elevator.
Looks like Luka Zoric’s about to pack his bags. With any luck, there will be a surprise for me in there too—a contract with Maxilene.
Bahamas, here we come.