And all the while I’m wearing a fake diamond tiara that says Virgin Bride in equally fake red gemstones.
“It’s no use,” Jamie finally announces, then waves the dancer away, but not before giving him one more fifty. “She only has eyes for Damien.”
“Can you blame her?” Sylvia says. I turn to her, eyebrows raised. Sylvia is Damien’s assistant, and we’ve spent so much time together as I’ve planned the wedding that we’ve become pretty good friends. “What?” she says, holding her hands up in a sign of innocence. “Just because I work for him doesn’t mean I’m blind to him.”
“What happens in Raven stays in Raven,” Jamie says wisely, then points a finger at me. “And don’t even pretend to be jealous of her. You’d have to be jealous of the whole world, because every straight female out there thinks he’s the most fuckalicious thing on two legs. Besides, you know Damien’s only got eyes for you.”
“I do,” I say happily. At the moment, I’m very happy. It may not even be five yet, but I’ve had a Happy Hour buzz going for the last couple of hours, and have imbibed more than my fair share of Manhattans, because Jamie says that the little cherry garnish is appropriate for a bachelorette party, even though my cherry was popped long ago.
My best friend has a way with words.
The waiter comes with another round of drinks, but before I can snag a fresh Manhattan, Lisa snatches it off the tray. “I think it’s about time we get you home to Damien,” she says. “You’re getting glassy-eyed.”
I squint at her. “No way.”
She laughs. “He will be so mad at all of us if we send you back tonight only to pass out. Especially since you’re going home with a goodie bag.”
“I am?” I’m beginning to think that Lisa’s right and I’m a little wasted, because even if she’s talking in euphemisms, I have no idea what she means by a goodie bag.
“Instead of each of us buying you a present, we went in together and got you a Bag O’ Fun from Come Again,” Jamie explains, referencing a local sex toy shop.
“You didn’t,” I say, not sure if I should be amused or mortified. “What’s in it?”
“You’re just going to have to wait and see,” Jamie says, while the rest of them grin.
“I promise it’s good,” Lisa says. “I may have to recreate a bag for Preston and me.” Lisa is a business consultant who has done some work with me, and her fiancé, Preston, is one of the top executives at Stark Applied Technology.
“You’re supposed to save it for your wedding night,” Sylvia adds.
“But we won’t think less of you if you dig in tonight,” Jamie says. She shares a mischievous grin with Evelyn. “She’s going home to Damien, after all, so how could we blame her?”
The limo parked outside of Raven is one of Damien’s insane stretch numbers that the company keeps primarily for impressing competitors and rewarding employees. Since this isn’t the greatest neighborhood in the world, a crowd of gawkers have gathered. I think some of them are drooling. A few must recognize me, because about ten feet from the car I start to hear my name called out. I see phones being thrust into the air, and a flurry of shouts and camera flashes surround me.
I walk faster, flanked by my friends.