Page 8 of Happily Never After

“I am a little disappointed, though.” His hand slid over hers.

“Why’s that?”

“You said we could do the thing we talked about, but instead all I got was a contract.”

“Well, it is your birthday.” Claire stood, keeping her eyes on Luke as she locked the door with one hand and unhooked her bra with the other.

Hours later,Luke and Claire collapsed into bed full of carbs, booze, and love.

She curled up against his bare chest, breathing in his sweet, outdoorsy smell. He yawned and gathered her close.

Rosie, who had had a late-night bath in Luke’s whirlpool tub after inexplicably rolling in barbecue sauce, snored lightly in her dog bed.

“I almost forgot, there’s one more thing.” Claire sat up suddenly and withdrew an envelope from under her pillow. A wax seal was stamped on the back, and Luke’s name and address were written in calligraphy on the front.

He shook his head. “Have you been taking calligraphy classes again?”

She scoffed. “Please. I’m a calligraphy master. I don’t need more classes.”

He pulled out a thick cardstock envelope and handwritten invitation in the same loopy handwriting.

“Holy shit.” He dropped the envelope on the bed.

“What?” she asked. She already knew after probing the depths of the internet, but this was Luke’s news to deliver.

“The Suburban Hustlewas nominated for an Emmy.” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Holy shit,” she echoed, snatching the envelope and scouring the contents. “Luke, this is crazy! How are you not ripping your shirt off and running screaming into the hills right now?”

He took the envelope from her and laid it gingerly on the nightstand. He flipped off the light and collapsed heavily onto his pillow, turning away from Claire.

Her heart dropped. Of all the things that could have pissed him off this evening, it was getting nominated for an Emmy?

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly in the dark.

“I didn’t earn this.” His voice was muffled.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m assuming Brianna orchestrated the nomination too?”

She rolled him over so he had to look at her. “Of course not. Don’t you think if Brianna had any control over the Emmys, she would have like six of them by now?”

“You didn’t ask her to say anything?” It was hard to tell in the dark, but he didn’t look convinced.

“No, Luke. This was a complete surprise. I suspected what it was because I Googled what an Emmy nomination looks like and I hid it from you. I may have broken a federal law or two. I figured it was the best thing you could receive on your birthday.”

He sat up and looked at her. The frown slipped from his face, and his eyes sparkled. Moonlight fell across his six-pack. It was awfully distracting.

“You earned this nomination. One hundred percent on your own. You’re an Emmy-nominated director.”

He threw the comforter off and stood on the bed. Rosie popped her head up.

“We’re going to the fucking Emmys.” He grabbed Claire’s hand and pulled her up next to him.

“We’re going to the Emmys!” They said together as they laughed and jumped on the bed. Rosie barked like crazy and propelled herself onto the bed to jump with them. Luke picked Claire up and whirled her around before sealing their joy with a lustful kiss.

He threw a dog treat out the bedroom door and snapped it shut before tumbling back into bed with Claire.

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