Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Kiko must have gotten the message because my helper never returned to Hiro or me about it. She just came back and did the rest of her duties. However, I knew that Kiko hated being dismissed after probably dressing up and preparing to crash my party. She probably thought she would show out. Instead, she was put in her place. I was sure that wouldn't be the last attempt by Maybe-Baby Mama to assert her delusional status.
I can’t wait to find out about this paternity test. Please, God, don’t let it be Kenji’s kids. I don’t think I can take dealing with her anymore.
The band played softer now. It was all romantic. The trumpet player had finally found his rhythm again, though his gaze still wandered toward Deja every few measures.
More food came out.
Nika, in true doing-too-much fashion, called over a waiter and asked for two plates wrapped to take home.
The party drifted forward in a haze of plates, drinks, and laughter. Hours folded into themselves. The candles burned lower. The dragon-shadow appeared again and drifted above us.
And when it was time for dessert, I rose from my seat, clapped my hands twice, and guided everyone to the karaoke space.
The band finally got to take the night off. They had their own table on the side where they sat down to eat.
Soon, we all migrated into the shimmering-curtained area where black-and-gold dessert towers spiraled along one wall—pecan praline tarts, salted caramel pots, mini sweet potato pies, and a chocolate fountain with strawberries the size of my fist.
A small stage sat at the back with a single microphone in a gold stand and a screen that scrolled lyrics in elegant cursive.
Everyone headed to the dessert while Kaoru beelined for the microphone.
His two girlfriends followed him up onto the stage and arranged themselves on either side of him like backup singers in some 1970s Motown special.
And they performed. Kaoru swung his hips and did absolutely too many crotch-thrusts that made his pink ringlets bounce with the beat.
But I had to admit that Kaoru could sing. He held high notes effortlessly as his girlfriends harmonized. He crooned everything from Japanese rock to 90s Rhythm and Blues. I clapped for him so much my hands hurt.
They only took a break from the microphone when it was time for the Best Dressed competition.
I had commissioned six trophies from this metalworker on the island. Each one was a single gold dragon claw mounted on a polished black base.
I assigned the judges—Zo, Kenji, Reo, and myself.
The first category was Outfit Most Aligned With The Theme. The twins won by unanimous vote. They climbed the stage. When they reached for their trophies, they also pulled out their machine guns and shot bubbles at the audience. Everyone who didn’t know about the bubbles shrieked with delight and cheered.
The second category was Most Creative Outfit. The twins won that one too despite the protests of the Fangs. The twins fired off another round of bubbles and bowed deeply.
The third category was Sexiest Outfit. This one had been close. Zo had argued passionately for himself. Kenji had voted for me, which made me blush. Reo was the only clear-minded judge. He voted for Deja with a small, dignified clearing of his throat that told me he had thought very carefully about the decision.
I agreed and awarded it to Deja.
She rose with all that liquid silk shimmering around her, lifted the leash gently in her hand, and Rin rose with her too.
The crowd cheered. Hiro whistled. Yoichi raised his glass. The rest pointed at Rin and laughed when he didn't look their way.
Deja accepted her trophy with the grace of a woman who had won pageants in her sleep, gave the audience a small queen wave, and gestured for Rin to carry the trophy back to the table for her.
He did, of course.
The next category was supposed to be Most Interesting Outfit. Before I could even open my mouth to announce the contenders, Hiro climbed the stage with his pimp coat draped on his shoulders and a liquored lollipop tucked into his diamond grill. His cane tapped with each step.
He walked to my helper, plucked the trophy out of her hand, and raised it over his head. "I win the category for the Best Dressed of All That Ever Dressed. Thank you. I dedicate this to Nura and my Tiger. Other than that, I owe my win to no one. I did it all myself."
The room exploded. Three napkins flew at him from the Fangs' side. A roll of bread bounced off his shoulder. Toma threw a strawberry that Hiro caught in his teeth without flinching and ate it.
Nika clapped. "He looks like a groovy pimp. I respect it."
Hiro then proceeded to prance across the stage with that fur coat trailing behind him and the cane tapping in rhythm with his hips.