Page 121 of The Laughing Game

“Let’s do a sweet one, and two dirty ones, and a silly one.”

“Fine.”

“Okay.”

By the time we left the booth, I thought I was going to piss my pants, we were laughing so hard. The photos were perfect. We looked like a couple of horny idiots in most, but the sweet one had turned out better than expected.

“Oh my God. He’s going to cry!” Gideon said, with a hand to his heart.

“Vihaal?” I asked, doubtfully.

“You know he’s a real softy underneath all of that restraint and bluster.”

“Yes, but…has he ever cried?”

“You’d be surprised,” Gideon remarked.

We argued about cards at the pharmacy but finally chose one, then used a pen at the bank to sign it, and sealed it into an envelope.

“All right,” Gideon said, checking his phone. “I just got a text from Vihaal.”

He frowned, reading it.

“Huh. Weird.”

“What?”

Gideon looked up, a confused expression on his face. “He wants us to meet him at the Chateau Laurier.”

“Right now?”

Gideon gazed at his phone again.

“Oh!” He chuckled, then gave me a mischievous look. “Yes. Right now. Come on.”

“The Chateau Laurier? Are we having afternoon tea?” I remembered the tiny sandwiches and the first time Vihaal had kissed me.

Gideon shrugged and lifted his eyebrows. “Maybe?”

We left the Rideau Centre and crossed Sussex, then headed up the hill to the Chateau, passing tourists and business people who were headed West on Wellington Street.

“I’ve never even been to the Chateau Laurier. Not inside it, anyway,” I admitted.

“Oh yeah? We come to see the Christmas trees over the holidays. And we’ve eaten at Wilfred’s,” Gideon confessed. “The architecture of the building is so beautiful. Vihaal’s even supplied some of the furniture.”

“That’s so cool,” I said.

The Chateau Laurier Hotel was a fixture in Ottawa. It was where all the official dignitaries stayed on their visits to the city, since it was directly beside the Parliament Buildings and a renowned destination in and of itself.

Walking into the expansive lobby through the revolving doors, I craned my head to look up to the second-floor balcony that edged the large space and wondered which famous people had stood in just this spot. I almost bumped into a woman coming from the elevator bay.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologized, looking up and into the eyes of Rebecca, my red-haired hook-up from the bar, what seemed a lifetime ago.

“Angel?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, hey!” I said. “We’re just meeting a…friend.”

“It’s great to see you!” she said, glancing briefly at Gideon but focusing on me.

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