Victorious(50)

“It might be kinda sparkly.”

He is boyishly handsome in yet another well-cut suit that shows off his broad shoulders and trim waist. Looking at him is one of my favorite things to do. It doesn’t matter if he’s fresh out of bed or turned out for a night on the town, he’s always stunning.

I take the bag from him. “I reserve the right to return this if it’s too much.”

“Okay.”

I remove a small package wrapped in pink tissue paper, revealing a tiny piece of cloth. All I can see are the jewels encrusted on the fabric. “Those had better not be diamonds or anything in the diamond family.”

“They’re crystals. Hold it up.”

I remove the item from the paper, and that’s when I see it’s not jewelry. It’s lingerie. Very fancy panties. A thong, to be more specific. “It’s beautiful.”

“Will you wear it for me tonight?”

“Sure.” I’m eager to please him even if I’ve never been a big fan of thongs. “Where did you get it?”

“A high school friend of Ellie’s runs the most exclusive lingerie shop in Beverly Hills. That’s where I get everything.”

“And you trust her to keep your secrets?”

“Delany keeps everyone’s secrets, which is why her business is booming.”

“When did you go shopping?”

“I didn’t.”

“Let me guess—you made a phone call.”

“Yep, and this one didn’t involve Addie.”

“Thank God.”

“So you’ll wear that tonight?”

“Yes! Now go away and let me finish getting ready.”

“Yes, dear.” He kisses me and leaves the room, Fluff trailing behind him. They seem to have gotten past their spat, which is a relief. Flynn didn’t blink an eye when I brought her with me today. He certainly has people on his payroll who could take care of her for me, but I don’t want others caring for her. Not when I can do it.

I reach under my dress and remove my panties and step into the thong. The string settles between my cheeks, which I normally don’t like, but after having worn a plug for hours, the thong doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. I finish getting ready and load the clutch Tenley said would go perfectly with the black dress. I take my phone, tampons (just in case) and lipstick.

The cramps have continued unabated all day, but so far there’s been no sign of my period. Perhaps the birth control shot is throwing off my cycle. In the mail that Addie had delivered was a report on my test results, all of which were negative. I’m perfectly healthy, except for the cramps and an odd buzzing in my head that began during the luncheon. I send off a text to Doctor Breslow, asking if my period might be affected by the birth control shot.

She writes right back saying that it’s possible I won’t have periods at all during the next three months, which is good to know.

I thank her for the info and finish getting ready.

Tonight’s event is at Spago, and we’re driven to the iconic Beverly Hills restaurant by the security detail. Photographers pounce the second we emerge from the car, but Flynn keeps a protective arm around me. Cameras record every second of our walk into the restaurant.

Many of the same people who were at the luncheon are at this party, and we make the rounds. Flynn gets me a glass of chardonnay and the passed hors d’oeuvres are delicious. But the more I eat and drink, the queasier I become. I’m also overheating.

We’re talking to Flynn’s partners, Jasper and Kristian, and I’m about to ask him if we can find a place to sit when my panties begin to buzz. I manage to suppress a gasp, take hold of his arm and try to stay focused on the conversation despite the vibrator pressed tight against my clit. I’m going to kill him for this.

“Are you okay, Natalie?” Jasper asks in a crisp British accent.

“I’m… It’s a little warm in here. Maybe we could sit?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Flynn guides me to a booth. When we’re seated, he leans in close to me. “Are you okay?”

“I feel weird—and not good weird.”

The buzzing stops immediately. “Define weird.”

“I don’t know. My head feels funny, I’ve had cramps all day, and now I feel sweaty, too.”

He leans in to kiss my forehead. “Holy crap, Nat. You’re burning up. Let’s get you out of here.”

“No! We don’t have to go. This is important to you.”

“The hell it is. We just had lunch with all these same people.”

“I don’t want to ruin your evening.”

“You’re not. I’m just sad it wasn’t the panties making you flush.” He smiles and winks and gets me out of there with the greatest of finesse. We leave through a different door than the one we came in and manage to escape the notice of the paparazzi on the way out, which is a relief. I can only imagine what they’d have to say about us leaving so soon after we arrived.

“Do you want to go home or back to the hotel?”

“We have to go to the hotel. Fluff is there.”

“I could have her brought home if you’d rather be there.”

“The hotel is fine.” I need a bed, and that one is closer. He holds me for the short ride back to the hotel. In the few minutes it takes to ride the elevator to our top-floor suite, I feel a hundred times worse. “Flynn…”