Chapter 19

I love the idea of her being primped and cleaned and waxed to my specifications. Like a little doll, built just the way I like it.

I’ve already showered and shaved, so now it’s time to put on my tux. But when I check the hook in the closet where I expect it to be hung, there’s nothing there.

I call down to Marta, one of our house staff.

“Where’s my tux?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Green,” she says nervously. “I went to the shop to pick it up like you said, but they told me the order had been cancelled. A box was shipped here instead, from Ms. Gerald.”

“A box?”

“Yes, shall I bring it up?”

I wait impatiently in the doorway while Marta jogs up the stairs, a large, square garment box in her hands.

What the hell is this? Why is Julia fucking with my tux?

“Leave it,” I say to Marta. She sets the box down gingerly on my couch.

I wait until she’s gone, then I open it up.

On top is an envelope, with the messy handwriting I can only assume belongs to my fiancée. I rip it open, pulling out a note:

Dearest