Page 27 of Husband to Go

But I have to take control this time because Tanner and I can’t keep going like this because teenage girls don’t take up with their mom’s fiancés. Somehow, I have to stop. The problem is that I don’t know if deep down in my heart, I want to.

8

Tanner

After the bridal shower, I threw myself into work. I buried myself in paperwork and endless meetings in order to get my mind off this conundrum because I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.

I thought I had it all figured out with Kylie. But our little episode at the bridal shower has me rethinking everything because I didn’t like her flippant attitude when she left. Normally, I can’t wait to get rid of girls I date and am grateful when they leave my bed. But Kylie left so easily, and it grates at my heart. Which can only mean that I want her to stay and cuddle?

But that’s ridiculous. That’s not who I am. She’s too different from the type of women I usually date. For one, she’s not my type, since she’s so damn young. Not to mention the fact that I’m engaged to be married to her mother. What a clusterfuck.

One of my assistants has sensed my distraction. Ryan took me aside the other day. He’s a nerdy guy in his twenties with glasses and a bad haircut.

“Uh, sir. I don’t know if this is my place, but I’m worried you might be … um, otherwise engaged.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, you gave me the wrong files. I got the right ones, but this isn’t the first time this has happened. It happened yesterday and the day before that too.”

I felt like a total idiot. If I can’t get anything right at work, then I’m not worth a dime. My job is where I’ve always been killing it, and I need to get back on my shit.

But either way, I can barely think. My mind is a muddled mess, and my resolve strengthens: I’ve got to take care of this situation somehow.

Unfortunately, now I’m at a combined bachelor/bachelorette party in Vegas, and the vibe of this city isn’t helping. We landed this afternoon, and Veronica wanted to get started with the festivities as soon as possible. It’s flashing lights, hoards of tourists, and constant invitations to debauchery. How do people resist?

Now, we’re at a strip club, to make things worse. This one caters to everyone, with both maleandfemale strippers. Which is nice for the people who want to be here, but the problem is thatIdon’t want to be here because strip clubs have never really interested me. I find them tacky and a little played out, but by contrast, my fiancée is living it up. Veronica made sure to get all the singles she would need before we got here. And now those dollar bills are being stuffed into waistbands, so she can touch the male strippers’ oiled-up bodies, while running her hands all over their muscles.

It’s disgusting and downright embarrassing, if you ask me.

My opinion of male strippers isn’t very high. I’ve always seen them as gigolos who don’t have anything more than two peanuts for a brain. Sure, there might be a smart one here or there, but to me, most of them are just hunks of meat gyrating on the dance floor for dollars.

But it looks like my fiancée’s going wild. She’s screaming and pawing at these poor guys, bouncing up and down in her seat. The men keep tight-lipped smiles on their faces, even as they move suggestively.

Alright, that’s enough. I take a small break and head over to the bar. I need a drink and I need one now. This whole atmosphere is like my own personal hell. The only reason Veronica gets away with putting me through so much shit is because of the important connections she brings to the relationship. Morose, I lean against the bar.

“A scotch, on the double and put it on the Logan tab.” I agreed to pay for all of this, not that that is what’s bothering me because I’m more than willing to give Veronica whatever she asks for, and she asks for a lot. But she always wants more. It was evident at the bridal shower. She invited half of New York, and I know she’s not friends with every single person there.

But ifthingsmake her happy, I can provide them, I guess. It’s part of my deal with the devil.

I get my scotch and down it in one gulp. It feels good, but not nearly enough to get my head out of this situation.

I look back at Veronica, and she’s pulled her tube top down. Her breasts jut out, and it looks disgusting. Unlike her daughter’s alabaster skin, Veronica’s boobs are overly-tanned and wrinkly-looking, like an orange that’s past its prime. One of the many male strippers leans down to suck on her nipple and she lets out a scream of delight.

I look away in disgust. I just have to keep reminding myself I’m doing this for a reason, although the reason seems to escape me with ever-increasing regularity.

Finally, I spot Kylie walking in. She didn’t come over with the rest of us, opting to stay in her hotel room a little longer.

Why? Who knows? Unfortunately, I had to come with the group because everything was booked using my name using my credit cards. I could have handed them over to my fiancée, but I don’t really trust Veronica. Once we’re married, I’ll get her things in her name but not a moment sooner.

Kylie’s entrance is quiet, and not many people see. But it’s worth waiting for because she’s utterly beautiful and pure, unlike her mother. Veronica is completely obsessed with being sexy. She wears revealing tops, short skirts, probably thinking the more skin she shows, the better.

But Kylie knows how to dress her body. She has on a sexy black dress, a garment that skims her plush curves perfectly. I’m sure she was trying to hide herself in it, but nothing can diminish her beauty. It actually does the total opposite, and merely highlights her gorgeous assets.

I stay by the bar and watch her, getting myself another scotch. This one I slowly sip.

Kylie is at the other end of the venue where there’s another bar area. She gets the bartender’s attention almost immediately.