25. Keith #2
I was truly content to have my bachelor party be just that, all of us talking and drinking around a table with people occasionally getting up to tend to the grills and smoker.
But as the sun finished setting behind the Airbnb, sinking into the jagged tree line to turn their gently swaying branches into shifting silhouettes against the crystalline stars slowly dappling the darkening sky, there was a very loud buzzer sound.
“What the hell was that?” I asked, alarmed, before seeing that my party planners were grinning like madmen.
“That’s the sound of the doorbell,” Riccardo said, trying not to look too pleased with himself and failing entirely. “Are you expecting any more guests?”
I shot him a look, because really? Some people thought me na?ve, and I could be awfully trusting, but I wasn’t stupid. “I don’t know, are you?”
“I assure you, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, come on Keithie boy! You’re being a bad host, go answer the door!”
“So that’s how it is?” I asked, my eyes going to the person who would be the worst at keeping a secret: Rolando.
But the youngest of the group purposefully avoided my eyes and was staring so intently at his phone that I decided to give him a bit of mercy.
“All right, but this better be something like pizza delivery.”
Paulie made a sound like I had insulted his mother personally. “You think we would order you fast food pizza? I think our alpha would have our heads all over again!”
“Right.”
If it wasn’t pizza, it could really only be one thing. A stripper. And while I had no issue with midnight ballerinas and had gone to strip clubs a couple of times in my life, I wasn’t interested in that now. Not unless Olivia wanted to go and sit in my lap the entire time.
Even if I wasn’t a shifter, I supposed they were rubbing off on me a bit, because I felt a territorial growl rise in my chest at the thought of interacting with any other woman in a sexual manner.
Olivia was my one and only, my whole world, and no stranger in truly impressively tall shoes was going to change that.
Nonetheless, I marched through the house, acutely aware that the rest of my party members were following behind at a slight distance, trying to be inconspicuous and failing entirely. Yeah, it most certainly was an exotic dancer.
I supposed I could always give her all the cash I had in my wallet and send her on her way. After all, it wasn’t her fault she had been booked by people who wanted to give me a rip-roaring good time but didn’t know how completely gone I was on my future wife.
Still, it made me a little uncomfortable that the men I had gotten to know so well over the past year had misjudged my character so much. Oh well. We could talk about it another time.
Finally, I reached the door and opened it, bracing myself to give an awkward but polite refusal.
“Greetings! Sorry to bother you on this night, but I’m afraid I lost my darling rabbit Guinevere, and I received word that there have been sightings of her lovely, dappled face in this very Airbnb!”
I stared, utterly gobsmacked, as a man slightly older than me brushed right past my bulk and into the main room of the rental.
He wasn’t alone. An impressively tall and burly woman dressed in a pinstripe suit with a top hat matching his rolled in a dolly full of supplies, nearly running over my toe.
“I’m sorry,” I asked in disbelief. This was not a stripper. “Did you say your rabbit?”
“Yes! My darling familiar, Guinevere Gwendolyn Gardenia the Sixth, and I, Giancarlo the Illustrious, will not rest until I have her safe within my hat again!”
I didn’t ask what happened to Guinevere Gwendolyn Gardenia one through five, but I did turn to the several Rizolis and Chuck, my jaw hanging open.
“Did you rent me, a nearly forty-year-old man, a magician?” I asked.
“Yes?” Riccardo offered, sounding uncertain for possibly the first time since we started getting to know each other.
At that, I broke into a grin so wide that my cheeks hurt. “Best. Bachelor. Party. Ever!”
I threw my hands in the air, and everyone did too. They all looked immensely pleased with themselves. And they had every right to be, because I never would have thought of something so silly and fun. Who didn’t like a magician?
“Ah yes, this is the appropriate level of exaltation upon meeting a magician of my caliber,” Giancarlo said, and I could tell that he was absolutely living for the energy in the room.
“And this here is my assistant, the lovely, the curvaceous, the able-to-split-a-man’s-skull-with-her-thighs-alone Minerva Diamond! ”
“Minerva?” Rolando asked from the back, his head visible above everyone else’s. “Like the Vaudeville star who set insane records by supporting a platform with at least eighteen people on it?”
The magician’s eyes went wide at that, and the burly woman sent Rolando a wink that had him flushing pink.
“That I am. Do you have an interest in strong women, or is Miss Josephine Blatt of special interest to you?”
I had no idea what they were talking about, but it was clear the two did judging by the sputtering half answer Rolando gave. And as much fun as it was to watch Olivia’s youngest brother fumble through an interaction with an attractive woman, a streak of protectiveness surged through me.
“He’s nineteen, just so you know.”
Her dark eyebrows went all the way up to her bangs. “You’re kidding me? Right?”
“Nope.”
She let out a soft chuckle and started setting up the magician’s equipment. “Give me a call in two years, maybe. But for now, enjoy the show.”
“I am well aware of the wiles of my magnificent assistant,” Giancarlo said, cutting in smoothly. “But I must ask that all of you place your attention back on me as I introduce you to the world of magic that I have unlocked.”
Was it cheesy? Absolutely. Was I already enjoying myself? Also yes.
It started off simply, with coin tricks, card tricks, and dollar bills being torn in half only to appear whole later.
We were all into it, and although we ranged from nearly eighty all the way down to nineteen, everyone was enthusiastic about the performance.
Even my mentor, who had an average word count per day of less than two digits, occasionally cheered and clapped and even let out a stalwart ooh.
Such absurdity wouldn’t be some people’s thing, but it definitely was mine.
I felt so incredibly seen by the people who would soon be my brothers and other extended family.
Being a giant lumberjack of a man with a ginger beard and a concentration-scowl like I wanted to murder somebody often gave people preconceived notions about me.
But the men surrounding me had seen past that.
They accepted me for my anxiety, my introverted nature, and my enjoyment of the nerdier things in life.
What more could a guy ask for?
Well, a kiss from Olivia would certainly be nice.
Because, although I was having the time of my life, there were several times after the magician did something particularly funny or cool where I turned to my side to get my fiancée’s reaction only to remember she wasn’t there.
Was it strange to miss her when we practically lived together already? Her three weekends a month had expanded to include Mondays and Wednesdays as well.
If it was, I didn’t care. I always wanted to hang out with my love, and not even the great company around me would stop that.
However, any pining I had for Olivia faded to the back of my mind for a few minutes when the magician asked for a volunteer.
For a fleeting moment, I thought I’d be forced to do it since I was the groom, and that really didn’t sound fun for me.
But then Massimo jumped to his feet, waving both arms like Giancarlo wasn’t a few feet from him.
“Oh, me! Me! I wish to volunteer!”
“All right then, Katniss, by all means, step right up!”
A Hunger Games reference? Suddenly, I liked the magician even more.
“Now, you see this box that has been standing behind me this entire time, thanks to our darling Minerva?” the magician said, making broad and dramatic arm movements in front of what kind of looked like a police telephone box from a UK show that may or may not involve time travel, but without any windows in it.
In fact, the only way to see into the structure was a cutout of the crescent moon on the front.
If only the magician knew how apropos that symbol was.
“This box, as unassuming as it might look, is a portal into the great beyond! I fear that my darling rabbit may have gotten lost in the dimension from which she came, and so I ask that you, our charming...”
“Massimo,” the young man replied.
“Ah yes, our darling Massimo will traverse into worlds beyond to fetch her! It will surely be a perilous journey, but tell me, will you be brave enough to face untold dangers to make sure Guinevere Gwendolyn Gardenia the Sixth returns to us whole?”
“Bring it on.”
With all the drama and aplomb that one might expect from the duo, Giancarlo began to chant some made-up sounding words while Minerva opened the door of the box and repeatedly moved her hand through it to show that it was empty. We all watched with absolutely rapt attention.
Massimo gave a bow, then backed into the box, dramatically crying, “Remember me!” before they shut the door. Minerva snapped a padlock closed on each of the locks.
Massimo was making all sorts of exaggerated expressions, clearly enjoying himself, but even that disappeared from view when, as a last step, the magician’s assistant slid a panel of wood over the cut-out, covering it with a painting of a beautiful full moon.
I chuckled to myself, absolutely delighted.
“And now! By the power of Luna and soul, by the magics beyond and dreams unspoken, I command you, Guinevere Gwendolyn Gardenia, return to us! Hear the call of Massimo as he traverses the dark realm to bring you home!”