Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“Huh.”
“I need to hear this whole story.”
So did I.
We dropped Dylan off, promised to talk in the morning, and she said she’d call our third partner, Fallon, to tell him neither of us would be in tomorrow. It was fortunate for both of us that we could actually work from home if needed. We’d gotten really good at it during the height of the pandemic in 2020. I had enjoyed going back to the office, but there were only the three of us, plus a receptionist, and six others in there now. We had not returned to some huge corporate business. Our office downtown was more like a clubhouse than a workspace anyway. We’d started out all sleek and fancy and slowly found out that our vibe was more historic old building with wood floors that creaked than glass and chrome and white walls. We’d moved in the fall of 2021 to give ourselves a sense of newness and hope. Reimagining Harvest Design had been the best thing we could have done. It was perfect now just the way it was. Small, intimate, and focused on client growth. What was also wonderful was that when we needed time off to deal with a family emergency, or in this case, to welcome our husbands home, we could do that without worrying that we were putting any kind of strain on the agency or the people we counted on at work. The only thing that Fallon might be upset about was going for afternoon frozen yogurt alone. And to think, once upon a time, he didn’t even like frozen yogurt.
Once Hannah and I got home, she was beat. She’d been up since five in the morning, and staggered up to her room to pass out.
“Let me know if Dad calls,” she said, picking Dobby up and carrying him up to bed with her. Not that he would stay in there. He slept in our bed, so he’d wait until about two in the morning and come to bed with me.
Chilly was already on my bed when I got to my room, and when I spoke to him, I got a few staccato meows, like he was asking where the hell I’d been, but then, after some low grumbles, he rolled over, yawned and stretched, and then fell back to sleep. That was the life right there, waking up just to look around, make sure that everything was as it was supposed to be, and then fall right back to sleep.
I got the text from Aja that she was home safe and sound and chatting with her husband. I was happy to hear that.
After I took a shower, I was just flipping channels when I finally decided to call Sam. It went straight to voicemail, and when I tried Dane and Duncan, the same thing happened. I finally decided to call Aaron and hoped I didn’t wake him up. It was only ten at that point, but he had just returned from Singapore.
“I’m surprised it took you this long,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
“I was worried. You just got back from a month away, and I didn’t want to bother you, since I know you’re probably trying to get reacclimated.”
“I am, that’s true, but it’s early yet.”
“Thank you for sending the plane for them.”
“Well, originally, I wanted Duncan to go, because after you have the I’m home sex, it’s not fair to make him just haunt the house all weekend and watch me sleep.”
“That was nice of you.”
“Yes, but at some point on Wednesday, I thought, I want him here, and I felt bad, but not after last night.”
“Here we go,” I said excitedly. “Tell me what happened. Please.”
“Sam didn’t tell you?”
“No, we haven’t talked.”
“Well, that makes sense. They went out early this morning, and last night was a mess, so when would he have had time?”
“Tell me now.”
Apparently, from what Aaron said, Mark had gotten himself some GHB to try, and he’d put it in a pitcher of margaritas he’d ordered for himself, that no one else liked, some blended green frozen watermelon concoction that then, because this was how the world went, was then accidentally served.
“Oh no,” I said, feeling terrible for everyone.
“I mean, it’s The Hangover in real life, with much less hilarity.”
“What happened?”
“Well, even poured into glasses for everyone, they didn’t all drink it. Certainly your husband did not. I mean, can you imagine Sam Kage drinking something green?”
I could not.
“And Duncan would never, and neither would Dane, but Greg had apparently arranged for the men to have company, which was what irritated all of them.”
“Which means what, the room was suddenly filled with hookers?”
“We’ll say escorts, but basically, yes. And while Sam was busy keeping several people from freaking out as they went through the various side effects of the drug—some were high and having too good a time, jumping around, wanting to dance with the women, and men, there—while others, like Chris, became upset and combative.”