Page 130 of Love & Other Disasters

He laughed, knowing that when he booked the room it came with a giant jetted whirlpool tub.

“That has my name on it for later,” Violet said, returning to the room.

They spent the afternoon bundled up sightseeing some of Chicago. The hotel was steps from the magnificent mile over to Chicago’s Riverwalk and back again. It was nice to show Violet a small part of the city where he grew up, even if it was the most touristy part. They walked hand-in-hand along the bustling sidewalk, window shopping, and only going into two stores. Violet liked the Riverwalk of the Chicago River the best, and he’d figured she would.

Back at the hotel, Violet made good on her declaration to use the tub. The jets whirled to life, and that meant she was naked. He fought the urge to crash her bath, allowing her to relax.

“Jordan,” she called. He’d propped up on a pillow, remote in hand, watching Die Hard on the television.

“Yeah, babe,” he cracked the door open and peeked in. Violet was submerged up to her neck in bubbling water.

“Want to join me?”

“If I get in there, we will be late for the party,” he warned.

Violet’s face read “so what.” “There’s such a thing as fashionably late,” she purred. “Guess what I’m doing with my hand.” She closed her eyes and arched her back.

Holy shit. “Hang on,” J.P. said before he lost his thinking ability and raced across the room, grabbing a condom from his suitcase. He returned to her naked and climbed in the tub and pulled her onto his lap.

They were late to the party, but still arrived before dinner. The tub time with Violet was worth the tardiness.

“This is so pretty,” Violet whispered, indicating the ballroom.

They’d decorated the enormous room up in black, gold, and silver. Tall white flower arrangements towered in the middle of each table, and two giant crystal chandeliers hung as focal points on each side of the room. Soft piano music played from the speakers, but a DJ moved about behind a table at one end of the room, setting up.

“Jordan,” Aiden called. His friend appeared, holding hands with a blonde in an evening gown and plastic tiara. They shook hands.

“This is my wife, Samantha.”

“This is my girlfriend, Violet.”

“That’s a great name,” Samantha said. “Love your dress.”

“Thanks, your dress is amazing too.”

“You’re so sweet. We have plastic top hats and tiara’s for midnight,” she pointed to her head, as if they’d missed it.

“But she’s not waiting until midnight to enjoy her tiara,” Aiden said.

“Why would you?” Violet asked, laughing.

“You want one?”

“Uh, yeah.”

They laughed and Samantha linked arms with Violet, and they headed across the room. And he’d worried that she’d not have anyone of her own to talk to.

“Just a warning,” Aiden said, “you won’t see her for a while. Sam’s a bit of a chatterbox.” From across the room, Samantha introduced Violet to more women, and the group laughed. “She’ll be fine. How about a drink? We have cigars.”

“Sounds good.” He wasn’t sure about the cigar part; his only vice was scotch. And what if Violet didn’t like him smoking a cigar?

They went with separate groups until dinner service, in part because the cigars and scotch were in an adjacent room. He ended up in there with several business leaders from the area, and hopefully the cigar didn’t upset Violet, because it’d been great for networking.

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