Crumbling Cakes

Part XII

A bridal shop. A freaking Bridal Shop! Of all the places... from the looks of it a fancy one too. Boo the unfair, hateful, malicious gods.

"It is, how could you tell?" His words echoed in my head like a drunken parrot. Wonky and slurred. Why a drunken parrot? I have no clue, I just saw one once and the sound ringing in my ears was an eerie match.

He shot her that grin that I was only recently privy to and I was certain the consultant's panties just set on fire. Honey, I know but be warned he's a prickly one, I mused to myself. I was slowly coming back from this out of body experience.

Ever the professional, Nadiya—read her fancy name tag—recovered flawlessly and beamed back at him.

"Wonderful! I have a knack for these things." She reached out to shake our hands, lingering in Sebastian's longer than was necessary and I snorted. Another one bites the dust. "My name is Nadiya, follow me and I will get you set up in one of our private rooms."

She walked ahead of us and I took the opportunity to ask my "future husband" what the hell he was thinking. Aggressively, might I add. My nerves were frying like a hot wire.

"What the fuck, Chuck?" I whispered in a low growl. He wrapped his arm around me, gripped my hip and pulled me closer to his side.

"You didn't exactly leave me much of a choice, Sweetheart." He whispered back, great we were back to the whispering. He played up the endearment and grinned at Nadiya who had looked back at us with hearts in her eyes. I think she actually sighed. Poor, poor misguided soul.

"Just go along with it. Unless you want to go back outside." His voice was deceptively soft, so tantalizing it took me longer than I cared to admit to register he was essentially threatening me.

Either we go back and he gets his answers the unfortunate way, or we move on with this three-ring shitshow and he gets to toy with me. This, my dears, was a trap.

Balls.

"Ahhh no. No, I wouldn't care for that at all." I fumbled through my words. Hotwire? Meet volcanic flame. The thought of retracing our steps made me shudder.

We'd just gotten past the curtain to the "private rooms" when the door chimed. My heart jumped into my throat; talk about dodging a bullet. The volcanic flame licked up my sides as the ice ran down my spine. My hold on Sebastian's hand tightened, nails leaving groves on the skin. And can you blame me? The last time I ran into that woman I ended up indebted to the man I was latching onto at the whopping number of 15K.

"Here we are, please make yourselves comfortable. I'll simply check upfront and get some selections started for you." Nadiya smiled pleasantly. She snapped her fingers and out of nowhere a young woman scampered silently over with a tray that held two champagne glasses. Nadiya whispered something to a second girl, who disappeared into a back room shortly afterward.

What the hell—what kind of establishment was this? I grabbed my glass reluctantly, thanked the server and glanced back at Nadiya; Sebastian had turned his back to us, heading toward the chaise. That's right a chaise. Nadiya, our smooth criminal, took the opportunity to mouth an exaggerated OH MY GOD at me while simultaneously giving me a thumbs up.

I mustered a meek 'right?' smile as an offering, then watched her leave back out the curtain. Her voice rang through the shop like a bell while the responses she received were caveman grunts. The goons have arrived as their usual peppy selves. The Red-Haired Charlatan must be so proud...

Feeling weak in the knees, I took a swig of my drink. The bubbles fizzed and tickled my nose, the sweet-bitter tang of the liquid clung to my tongue. It was what I didn't need at the moment if I wanted to keep my wits. Yet at the same time, it was exactly what would get me through this, steeling my nerves. A very confusing sensation. Everything left me confused around him...