She nodded.
“Interesting.” I pushed her down onto the bed. “Well, since we can’t have sex anymore, there’s one thing I need to do to you before you leave...”
Chapter 10
Claire
I was sitting in the back of the town car, smiling and running my fingers across my newest necklace. All I could think about was last night—the way Jonathan looked at me while I was dancing, the way he kissed me once I was finished.
“Is there a reason you’ve been holding that smile for half an hour?” Helen raised her eyebrow.
“What smile?”
“The ‘I’ve been thoroughly-well-fucked’ smile.” She rolled her eyes. “I know it all too well. And are those f**king hickeys?” She leaned over and touched the bright red marks on my neck.
“Hickeys?”
“That ass**le marked you on purpose didn’t he? Because you’re going away for a week and he wants every man to know you’re unavailable, right? He’s so ridiculous!”
I laughed and looked out the window as we approached the airstrip—reading the huge pink banner that was draped across the entryway of the plane: “Claire’s Last Weekend of Freedom”
Helen told me that she’d originally bought first class tickets for the flight, but Jonathan had called her hours ago and insisted that we use his jet.
“Do you have your passport, Claire?” Helen looked at me as Greg opened the backdoor.
“Why would I need my passport?”
“Because we’re going out of the country and you need a passport to get in and out of the states. Please tell me you have it.”
“Out of the country? I thought we were going to Vegas.”
“Vegas? Seriously, Claire? I went there last year—been there, done that. We’re going to Costa Rica!”
“What?!”
“Why do you think I’ve been making such a huge deal about this? I want you to experience ultimate bliss. Let’s go.” She tugged me towards the plane.
“But I told Jonathan we were going to Vegas.”
“You’re not supposed to tell Jonathan anything. This is a bachelorette party, Claire. Whatever happens in Costa Rica, stays in Costa Rica—unless he has an American VISA and I want to bring him back for a week or two.” She winked and gestured for me to get on the plane.
I stepped aboard and took a deep breath, squeezing my way past two carts of alcohol. On the very first seat was a huge bouquet of white lilies and a card:
Dear Future Wife & Exotic Dancer,
I’m not thrilled about the next few weeks of torture, but I do hope that you enjoy your bachelorette party. (Just not too much.) I’ll be in the penthouse suite at Caesar’s Palace in Vegas this week if you need anything.
Your Future Husband & Awed Fan,
Jonathan
PS—I love you.
I smiled and noticed that there was something else in the envelope—a small packet with four red pills and another note: “To help you sleep on the way there and back—Jonathan”
“Welcome aboard, ladies!” I heard Helen say as high pitched laughter filled the cabin.
I turned around and found myself face to face with Helen’s other set of best friends—Kimberly and Bobbie Jo. They looked like they’d stepped right out of a magazine—perfect makeup and hair as usual, which was fitting since they were both former supermodels.
She’d met the two of them years before she met me, and she always bragged about how she helped them to sue Maybelline for millions of dollars.
I still remembered the first time I’d met them, the time they dared me to do a body shot with a complete stranger and encouraged me to “gently brush up against his dick...just to see if it’s as big as it looks...” They’d claimed that that was step one to getting over Ryan, step one in showing him who was better off.
I can’t be left alone with the three of them for A WEEK...Where the hell is Sandra?!
“Nice seeing you again, ladies. I’ll be right back.” I smiled and slipped away to the restroom. I immediately pulled out my phone and called Sandra.
It rang six times before she picked up.
“Hello?” She was whispering.
“Are you on your way to the airstrip? The flight leaves in thirty minutes.”
“Ohhhh, no. I am so sorry, Claire...”
“You’re not coming to my bachelorette party? Are you serious?”
“It wasn’t intentional. I was packed and ready to go this morning but...I’m engaged now!” She squealed. “Michael popped the question and he’s taking me to France tomorrow! Can you believe that?” There was a man’s voice in the background. “Wait, wait. It’s Claire. Give me ten more seconds.”
“Ten more seconds?”
“I really am sorry, Claire. I’ll make this up to you, I promise. I’ll take you out for drinks and a night on the town the second I get back.”
“You can’t leave me with Helen and her friends...It’s one or the other—I can’t deal with all of them.”
“They’re your friends too, Claire.” She was rolling her eyes—I could tell. “Maybe hanging out with them more often will stop you from being so uptight.”