Page 76 of The Marriage Auction 2: Part 2

“Hmm, I wonder if I should put my lips all over you, leave lipstick marks in the most private of places in order to stake my claim in person with Julianne. I still can’t believe you’d choose to marry a chubby workaholic with no real future. I mean, I thought you had good taste. Even her parents chose to only leave her a house over their multi-million-dollar stake in their company. Says a lot about your current wife I’m afraid.” She sighed as though put out.

Then I watched in complete and utter horror as she let her blazer fall to the floor. Then she curled her fingers around her top and pulled it off her head. Her bra came next, and I averted my eyes. I could hear her undressing, and my stomach sank with each new piece of clothing I heard hit the floor.

Whatever shit was in my system worked fast and pretty soon I was having trouble opening my eyes.

Bianca appeared above me, her small bare breasts swaying as she hovered. I could feel the weight of her sitting on my lap. Then, through the haze, I heard a clicking sound.

I used every ounce of power I had left and opened my eyes to see her typing on my phone.

“There! I sent a nice little text to your wifey to come to your apartment quickly. There’s a lot she needs to see in person.” The look on her face was pure evil.

How had I never seen this side to her?

Then what she said worked its way through my mind. Julianne was coming here. She’d see me like this.

Naked, with Bianca.

God, no. If Julianne saw the two of us in bed together, she’d never forgive me. I’d lose her forever.

“Nooooooooo!” I gurgled, my stomach tightening painfully as I was barely able to turn my head to the side and vomit.

“Oh hell! Gio. How much did you drink! I wasn’t expecting you to have so much. Shit! You’re a mess. Now I have to clean you up before she gets here!” She bitched and then I heard the sound of her gagging and running into the bathroom.

After that, I heard nothing because I passed out.

Episode 54

Mommy Dearest

NAOMI

Memphis held my hand as we stood in front of my mother’s bedroom door. I knocked three times and waited. Anxiety chilled me to the bone and made goosebumps rise on my arms. Memphis nudged my shoulder playfully and made a silly face until I giggled like a schoolgirl with her boyfriend, waiting to see the principal.

“Come in,” Mother called out.

I opened the door and found her across the room, currently sitting in the sunshine on the balcony, wearing a pink satin robe and matching pajamas. She’d been released from the hospital earlier this morning, and her hair was perfectly done, her face fully made up. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her disheveled outside of the hospital visit, and even then, she still looked pretty good for someone who’d had a heart attack.

Memphis squeezed my hand as I tugged him through the room and onto the balcony. There was a four-seater table set up, complete with an umbrella that blocked most of the sun but didn’t block the open view of the ocean beyond.

My mother gestured for us to sit at the table, which had been set with cutlery, plates, and stemware. An ice bucket with a bottle of champagne and a carafe of orange juice sat in thecenter along with a variety of fruits, cheeses, and small, bite-sized sandwiches.

“Sit, sit, let me pour you both a drink.” Mother’s voice was pleasant, as she stood and poured champagne into two flutes.

Memphis held out my chair for me and helped ease it closer to the table before taking his seat. This move was tracked by my eagle-eyed mother who never missed anything. Her lips tipped up into a smile that warmed my heart toward her. It wasn’t that I didn’t love my mother; I loved her dearly. I just didn’t like her very much. We were two completely different people, whose interests and values were on opposing sides more often than not.

Memphis sipped the champagne. “It’s delicious. Thank you, ma’am, for inviting us to brunch. I take it you’re feeling better?”

She drained her glass and poured herself another. “I am, young man. Thank you for asking. Just a little under the weather, as they say.”

I frowned as she drank half of the champagne she’d just poured. “Mother, shouldn’t you be off alcohol after what the doctor said yesterday?”

My mother tsked and pursed her lips. “Young lady, I’ll have you know, I haven’t had a sip of alcohol since all of this.” She waved her hand nonchalantly in the air. “I’m fine. I’m at the perfect weight for my age and height. I exercise daily to keep this girlish figure and eat only the finest quality foods. And besides, Cook has been notified of my new dietary requirements.”

“Except your eating habits didn’t land you in the hospital with a heart attack. It was the exorbitantalcoholconsumption, mother.”

“Naomi…” Her tone was as sharp as a knife and just as cutting. “Do not concern yourself with matters that are my own. I will handle my health as I see fit.” She drained the second glass and reached for the bottle.

I snatched the bottle, stood, and went over to the railing. I tipped the bottle over and allowed all the liquid to drain out onto the sand below.

---