Kayla Perrin - Getting sexy - Obsession / Getting Some / Getting Even

Diana, a graying woman in her late fifties who looks a lot like Diane Keaton, slips her glasses on and opens her planner. “So for appetizers you’re going with the five tomato mozzarella salad, the gumbo and the petite cou-chon baton. What about the main course? Were you still hoping for beef?”

I look at Adam. He’s wearing dark glasses so no one can see his eyes. But I already know what they look like. Red. He got high this morning before we came to meet Diana.

It’s one other change in him I don’t like. In the past year, Adam’s weed smoking has gotten excessive. He says he needs to relax because he’s so stressed with all the planning for the wedding, as well as his aspirations to run for mayor. I understand that, but there’s a limit for everything.

I ask, “What do you think, Adam?”

“I told you what I think. Let’s have beef.”

I face Diana. “My mother and I have been getting calls. People are wondering why there isn’t a beef option.”

“Those people aren’t planning a wedding for six hundred guests.”

“I know, but—”

“Can I make a suggestion?” she asks.

“Of course,” I answer.

“You’ve got onion-crusted American red snapper and pecan smoked Muscovy duck breast. That’s an excellent menu, certainly satisfactory for even the most discriminating eater. If you want to add anything else, I’d suggest another appetizer. The truffled soft-shell crab bisque. There’s plenty of choice for everyone.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I am right,” Diana assures me. “If anyone wants to complain, tell them to come to me.” She smiles sweetly, a smile that says she’s been planning weddings for over thirty years and knows her stuff.

“Can we make a decision on this, Adam?”

“Whatever you suggest is fine.”

I roll my eyes slightly. I swear, I wish he’d get more involved.

“What about the dessert?” Diana asks.

“The best part,” I say. “I think I’ll gain ten pounds before my honeymoon.”

Diana lifts the sheet with the dessert items and their descriptions. Adam and I have a copy of the same sheet to peruse. “Lemon flan,” Diana reads. “Chocolate-fudge Sheba, crème brûlée, Commander’s pecan pie à la mode, praline parfait, Creole bread pudding soufflé and Creole cream-cheese cheesecake.” She lowers the sheet. “You’re choosing two.”

I glance at Adam, but he’s not even looking our way. His gaze is off in the direction of the woods behind my parents’ house.

I reach for his leg under the table.

“Honey?”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds great.”

Great, he’s not even paying attention! I hide my embarrassment by quickly saying, “We’ll do the Creole bread pudding soufflé and crème brûlée.” I nod. “Yeah, that’s good.”

Diana scribbles some notes.

Is that the right choice? I wonder. “Wait. You know what—if they’re preparing a sampling menu for us, why don’t you add the lemon flan and praline parfait to the list. That way, we can see what we like best before the wedding.”

“No problem.” Diana makes more notes. “You’re paying big bucks for perfection, and I assure you you’ll have perfection.”

At the price she’s charging, we most certainly should have perfection.

“Now for the fun part.”

“Oh?” I say.

“I have a surprise for you.”

I squeeze Adam’s hand. “A surprise. Isn’t that exciting, Adam?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s great.”

Diana removes her glasses, pushes her chair back and stands. “Let’s head to the pool-area bar, because you two lovebirds are going to create your own drink.”

“Our own drink?” I can’t help smiling.

“I brought in a mixologist today and he’ll work with you to concoct a cocktail specifically for you and your guests that they’ll enjoy as they arrive at the reception.”

“That sounds amazing.” I look to Adam, who’s got a cheesy smile on his face. “I had no clue.”

“I like to add some personal touches of my own,” Diana tells us.

Adam and I get up. We follow Diana to the pool area in my parents’ vast backyard. They have a full bar there housed in a Caribbean-style hut. Behind the bar’s counter, I see a white man with shoulder-length blond hair. He’s tanned and looks as if he just stepped off a beach. He’s the type I associate with surfers and a carefree lifestyle.

“I’m gonna like this,” Adam proclaims.

At least he’s interested again. No surprise there. With the amount of drinks we’ll sample, I’m sure we’ll have a nice buzz before noon.

“I’ll leave you two to Jason,” Diana announces, “and I’ll head back into the house, as I have some things to go over with your parents.”

Adam and I slip onto bar stools. Jason extends his hand and we take turns shaking it as we introduce ourselves.

“Jason, you look like you flew in from Hawaii last night,” I can’t help commenting.

Jason chuckles. “Nope, I’m from Atlanta. I work at a bar in Buckhead.”

“Adam and I live in Buckhead.”

“Have you been to Apple?”

“No. That’s the piano bar, right? We keep meaning to check it out. Don’t we, Adam?”

“Yeah,” he responds, and I’m sure Jason must realize he’s high.

“Why don’t you?” Jason asks. “That’s where I am almost every day of the week.”

Jason’s eyes linger on mine, and I wonder if he’s just hit on me.

Adam, however, is oblivious. He reaches for my hand. I can’t help gazing at him with affection. I like when he’s amorous with me.

But Adam doesn’t just link fingers with me, he pulls my hand toward him, stopping only when it’s on his crotch.

Oh my God. He’s hard.

My face flushing, I quickly glance away. “Jason, what do you have for us?”

“Yes, what indeed?” Adam asks.

Jason shrugs. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Oh, we’re pretty risqué. Like to live life on the edge. I’m sure whatever you suggest will excite us.”

OhmyGodtellmeheisn’tpropositioningthebartender!

“I was thinking something fruity,” I quickly tell Jason. “Maybe with vodka, or rum. Something that will make me think of lazy days on an island beach.”

“Got ya.”

Jason spins around and grabs some bottles. If he thought there was anything strange about Adam’s words, he’s chosen to ignore it.

Thank the Lord.

I lift my sunglasses and glare at Adam. He flashes me a devilish smile, one that confirms my worst fear.

What’s happened to you, Adam? I wonder.

What’s happened to the man I love?

On Monday, I’m still feeling very weird about what happened on the weekend with the bartender. I could stay home and ruminate by myself, but instead I call An-nelise and see if she wants to get together for dinner. Nothing fancy, just dinner at my place. Lishelle’s working, or I would have invited her, too.

But maybe it’s good that it’s just me and Annelise. Not only do we have to discuss the wedding photography, I’ve decided to confide in her about my concerns over Adam. Originally, I figured I might broach the subject of Adam’s bizarre sexual appetite with Lishelle, but considering Annelise is in a relationship, she might be the better one to discuss this with. Because I have to talk to someone, or I’m gonna go out of my mind.

I swallow my bite of Caesar salad, then put down my fork. “Annelise,” I say cautiously.

She looks up from her salad. “Yeah?”

I think of how best to phrase what I want to ask, but there’s only one way to say it. I’ve got to say it straight. “Does Charles ever want…really kinky sex?”

Annelise’s eyes widen in surprise. “Why do you ask that?”

“I just…” I lean forward and whisper, as though there’s a fly on the wall that could hear us. “Adam is into all kinds of weird stuff lately. I’m hoping it’s a phase. But I’m also wondering…is it me? Am I uncomfortable with it because I’m a prude or something? I know times have changed drastically even in ten years, so maybe it is me. Then again…” I blow out a breath. “I know it’s a personal question, but has Charles ever been into…weird stuff? And if so, did he get over it? I guess I want to hear that it won’t last forever.”