I can’t even blame them. From my spot at the dining table, the camera shows off the massive ceilings, the high-end, stupidly large kitchen, and part of the open stairs leading up to the second level.
It looks exactly like a billionaire’s penthouse.
Before I can think of something to say, Bri continues. “I heard you upped and moved to Chicago, but you didn’t say anything about it over the weekend, so I wasn’t sure if I should believe it.”
Her tone is mostly stunned, but there’s a tiny bit of hurt in there, too. And I decide that the only thing to do is tell the truth.
Well, a partial truth.
“Okay, so…” I take a sip of my coffee as all attention moves to me. “When I last saw you, I didn’t know I was moving.”
“That was Friday.” Bri shakes her head. “It’s Tuesday.”
The other designer, who I’ve met before, laughs.
“Well, to be fair, I decided Saturday night.” I take a bigger sip of coffee. “But that was only after I got married on Friday.”
Bri’s mouth drops open.
“Aw, congrats,” someone from marketing says, but Bri drowns them out.
“Shut up!” she practically shouts. “Please tell me it was to that hot-as-fuck man who picked you up.”
I grin despite myself. “That’s him.”
“You guys don’t even get it,” Bri tells the rest of the people on the call, fanning herself. “This man was… I don’t even know how to describe him. Like movie star meets just got out of prison. And it works.”
The way she says works makes me laugh, but I have to admit the description is pretty good.
“I want to see!” one of the marketing team says.
“Yeah, wedding pics, please.” Bri nods.
I have to work to keep the smile on my face.
I don’t remember anything about the service. Nothing more than slivers of seconds. And before I can think about what I’m saying, I admit, “I don’t know if there are any photos.”
“You don’t…” Bri leans closer again. “Oh my god. Did you get drunk married?”
She’s cackling before I can even respond. But my cheeks are starting to heat, so I put my hands against them to cool them down, and that must be all the answer anyone needs because now everyone is reacting.
Then I remember my damn inked finger and drop my hands out of view.
Thank god everyone was so distracted laughing at me that they didn’t notice the freaking tattoos.
I’ll have to do something to cover them up when I go into the office tomorrow.
“If that’s what his place looks like, then it’s gotta be the best drunk decision I’ve ever heard of,” the marketing team chimes in. “And if he’s hot on top of it… Jackpot.”
“He’s not bad to look at.” I pick up my coffee with my right hand. “Should we start?” I ask, trying to prompt the point of the call.
“I have more questions,” the other designer says as everyone else nods. “Where does he work? You clearly didn’t meet him at our company. Even Mr. Ritz only lives in a three-bedroom condo.” She refers to our boss, who makes us all call him Mr. Ritz instead of using his first name. “And I only know that because he never shuts the fuck up about it. Like it’s some sort of flex and not him proving he could pay us more.”
Since I started a few years ago, I’ve been working remotely, so I don’t know the boss as well as everyone else, but I’m not surprised that the people who go into the office a lot aren’t fans. The whole Mr. thing is a bit pretentious.
One of the marketing girls snorts. “Yeah, I almost wish he was on this call.”
Her teammate lifts a hand. “Let’s not go crazy.”
“Yeah, fair.” The first girl concedes. “Plus, he’d probably just think he’s paying us too much and not that Val here hooked herself a sugar daddy.” She taps her chin. “Does a sugar daddy have to be older? Is he older?”
I set aside all my twisted feelings around Dom and my situation and figure I might as well try to enjoy this bit of comradery. “He’s forty-one, so a little older.”
“How old are you?” Bri asks.
I roll my lips together before answering. “I’ll be twenty-six this month.”
There’s a snicker. “Yeah, I’d say that counts as a sugar daddy. What does he do? CEO or something?”
“Well, he has his own company. But I don’t know what his title is.” I’m assuming he has to have some sort of company. Mafia shit or not, you can’t just move through society with huge amounts of money and no explanation for it.