We need a moment.” She walked him toward the door. More like pushed him. “And we appreciate the gesture, but the honeymoon suite is not necessary.”
“Certainly, Mrs. Jackson,” the man said, with a wide smile. “Please let us know if you change your mind.”
“We will,” she assured him. “Thank you again. Have a good day.”
“I will and—”
She closed the door before the man could finish his sentence.
Drake clutched the ring box in his hand. “I spent $15,000 on a ring, Love.”
She squeezed his shoulder. “Drake, we’ll figure this out. We’ll find the receipt and try to return it.”
“Good luck with that. They sold it at a discount. It was probably a final sale.”
“We have to find your wallet,” she said, hurrying into her suite bedroom.
He followed her. She picked a pair of discarded pants off the floor and shoved her hands into the pockets. He checked his coat and discovered his wallet was there. He opened it, leafed through the receipts and found nothing. “It’s not here. I’m screwed,” he said, dropping the wallet on the dresser.
She propped her hands on his shoulders. “Drake, we got married. We don’t remember our wedding. We had sex, after almost thirty years of innocent friendship. Screwed is an understatement. But all is not lost, because we still have our brains. So I say we go find the—” she glanced at the wedding certificate “—Hunk O’ Burning Love Wedding Chapel and try to get this thing annulled. Then we can check with the jewelry store.”
Love grabbed an outfit and disappeared into the bathroom.
“Okay, Mrs. Chipper, what if this can’t be fixed?”
She emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing a pair of capri pants and a tank top. “I’m not dealing with that right now. The worst has to be over.”
Another knock sounded, and they heard a familiar voice from the other side say, “Lovely, open the door.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God.”
He shook his head. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. It’s not over—not by a long shot.”
“Don’t answer that.” Love wrapped a hand around Drake’s arm. The constant knocking was getting to her, but she could handle it. “Maybe she’ll go away.”
“Have you met your mother?” Drake asked.
“She can’t come in here.” Gloria Helen Washington was the last person Love needed to see today. “She’ll know what happened.”
“How? We’re both fully dressed.” He peeled her hand off him. “Just act normal.” He hurried to the door and opened it.
Gloria breezed into the room. “Lovely Grace Washington, what is your problem? What took you so long to answer the door?”
Love rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. As if naming her Lovely wasn’t bad enough, her mother had added Grace to it. As soon as she was old enough, she’d insisted everyone call her Love. “What is it, Mother? You know it’s early.”
Love knew she hated to be called “Mother.” Gloria wasn’t your average stay-at-home mom. As a child, Love could be found chanting during a windstorm watch, and running around in a bright bandanna and a tie-dyed T-shirt. Yes, her mother was a hippie and damn proud of it. Even in her sixties, Gloria still had a carefree way about her. Her gray curls were wild and free, and she wore loose-fitting, flowing clothes at all times. Her mother thought the world would be a better place if everyone embraced love, hence the name.
Growing up had been pretty traumatic for the straitlaced Love. She was the only black kid in the neighborhood who wore sandals in the winter and listened to Jimi Hendrix. Instead of Ring Pops or Now & Laters, Love was forced to munch on celery sticks and snap peas. No hopscotch or Foursquare for her. Gloria thought it best that she recited poetry in the park. And Love hated poetry. Yet, even though they clashed often, Love adored her mother. And she was proud of the independent woman she’d become after the divorce. Her mother went from doting on her husband to owning one of Vegas’ premier flower shops. Gloria was famous for her floral creations.
Her mother pulled her into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you, my baby girl. The rest of the family should arrive sometime this afternoon. Thank you for gracing us with your presence this year. You know, it’s been years since you’ve attended. Everyone always asks about you.”
The rest of her family was as colorful as her mother, which often caused a problem for the Love. For years, the Nelson family gathered on her grandmother’s birthday in March for a family reunion. Each year, the reunion alternated between several states to give each leg of the family a chance to plan it. Love had managed to avoid the last several due to school and work, but since the reunion was back in her childhood hometown, her mother had threatened to haunt her in life and death if she didn’t attend.
Her mother had obsessed about this reunion for over a year, since she was the only member of the family that lived in Las Vegas. The hosting family always stayed at the hotel with everyone else, and Gloria needed Love’s assistance to help make the reunion a success.
“Like I had a choice,” Love grumbled, wrenching herself out of her mother’s arms.
“Don’t get smart.” Gloria smoothed her hair back and grinned at Drake. “Hello, Drake. I’m so glad you’re here.” She embraced him.
“Good to see you, too, Mom,” Drake said.
Love’s best friend had called Gloria that for as long as she could remember. Drake and Gloria had a loving relationship and Love often found herself on the outside looking in at the two of them. They shared the same taste in food and television, preferring big steaks and fried potatoes with their zombie and sci-fi shows.
“You’re looking handsome as ever, son.”
“Mother,” Love said, cutting in, “I know you want to talk about the reunion, but I have to make a few runs. Then I wanted to visit with friends.”
Peering up the ceiling, Love let out a long sigh. She hated lying to her mother. Love was many things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. She lacked the ability to make it convincing, even though she’d tried to perfect the skill growing up. Although she had made plans to visit with her friends, she had no intention of doing so now. She had business to take care of, a marriage to annul.
“Love, this is family time.” Gloria picked at her daughter’s hair with a frown on her face. “Why did you straighten your beautiful curls?”
Love pushed her hands away. “My hair is fine. And I promised them I’d stop by. The last time I came home to visit, I wasn’t able to spend any time with my friends.”
Gloria dropped her purse on a chair and scanned the room. “This is nice,” she said, as if she couldn’t care less what Love wanted to do. “Listen, a couple of your cousins really wanted to come
