Page 35 of A Bossy Roommate
Trying to keep my distance and avoid the cat hair that is no doubt clinging to her clothes, I open the box toward her, and she gasps. Heavenly fruity smells surrounded us. At first, I think she is really into those strawberry cupcakes, that’s how big her eyesgrow, but then her hand takes my left one, and she notices the rings.
“Goodness me, you certainly do work swiftly!”
Ah, shit. She doesn’t miss anything. What should I tell her? I can’t exactly tell her that we suddenly fell in love and got married. She’ll never believe it.
“It’s…complicated,” I say.
“Indeed, my dear, all relationships are.” She waves her hand. “This couldn’t possibly be connected to a certain relative of his who’s scheduled to visit, could it?”
How the heck does she know that?
Was she listening at the door? Or have I moved in next to a psychic?
At my alarmed expression, she laughs. “Don’t panic, love. Eleanor and I are friends. She kindly gave me a ring to let me know about her impending visit. I had a hunch it would set her nephew into a bit of a flurry.”
“So, you know about the marriage story?” I ask in a soft voice.
“As I understand it, she’s quite delighted he’s taken the plunge at last. But you know, I’ve also noticed that it’s beenquitea whilesince I last saw him with a lady. It’s a sham marriage, am I right? Just for appearances? Please don’t worry, I shan’t unravel whatever plan he’s cooked up in that head of his. It just concerns me that he’s got you tangled up in it.”
“It’s all right,” I say with a shrug. “I can handle whatever Carter throws at me. It’s just for the weekend anyway.”
“Might you be in need of any friendly advice, my dear?” she asks, biting back a cheeky smile, mischief dancing in her eyes.
“About what?”
“The wedding night.”
I burst into laughter. “I think I’m all right on that front.”
“Are you quite certain? It’s just that I possess a multitude of tales on the topic. I myself entered the bonds of matrimony a total of six times, you know.”
Holy shit. My elderly cat lady neighbor has six successful stories on the subject! She’s not only the sweetest and funniest, but now officially the most unassuming old lady I’ve ever met.
“First, that’s unexpected.” I grin. “Second, I don’t think there’s going to be any real wedding night. This isn’t a real wedding.”
“My dear, if I were graced with a gentleman of such striking appearance, I wouldn’t squander a single evening, if you catch my drift—genuine or not. Particularly if he happened to be my superior.” She gives a playful wink. “Despite that ice-cool exterior, I reckon there’s a fervent volcano smoldering inside…”
“Ah!” I playfully gasp. “Hattie, you minx!”
The old woman chuckles, grabs four cupcakes out of the box, and closes the lid. “En-jo-oyyyy,” she sings playfully, pushing the box back toward me with her elbow. “The hour grows late. Myrtle, Ruth, and Mitsy require their midnight treats, and so do I. You’d best return to that fiery husband of yours.”
I go back to Carter’s apartment, amused by our interaction. My fiery husband is in the kitchen, pouring a glass of whiskey.
“Hattie knows.”
“Well, of course she does,” he says, unsurprised. “Fortunately, you haven’t signed the NDA yet.”
“Uh-huh.” I know that he’s teasing of course (at least, that’s what I hope). He knows how observant Hattie is—but nonetheless, I feel guilty for not mentioning that Gretchen, too, has more info on us than she probably should have. At least Gretchen doesn’t know anything about the fake marriage, and I’ll make sure that she, like everyone else, never learns.
I set the remaining wedding cupcakes down on the counter, ready to get something else off my chest that Hattie just put into my head.
Something about the “wedding night.”
Something I noticed about Carter’s bedroom situation.
“Where does your aunt usually sleep when she visits you?” I ask him.
“Guest suite. You need to clear it until she leaves on Sunday afternoon.”