“For he’s a motherfucking pussy...which nobody can deny!” The men surrounding me were drunk. Loud. Obliterated. And yet, I found myself enjoying the craziness that was partying with people in the music industry.
I was having a blast. Not that I was sober in the least; fuck, no, I was just as wasted as the next moron was.
But after spending so much of my time the last few months organizing shit: Ashley’s situation, media, our tour...I’d forgotten how nice it was to kick back and shoot the shit. Relax and not worry about some other kind of catastrophe popping up at the most inopportune moments.
Tonight it was about Slim and me. The end of my bachelorhood, even though that shit died the minute she bumped into me and spilled my drink. The start of our life together and a move I’d yet to tell a single soul about.
In other words, I was one happy motherfucker at the moment.
Standing up, I held my drink up in the air and looked around the room before settling my eyes on my band mates and brothers. Tipped my head in their direction. “Thank you for this fantastic affair...my stomach appreciates how well it has been fed.”
“And the seven specialty gin and tonics had nothing to do with it? You basically had a tour of their menu,” Brian called out from across the room; raising his arm, he sloshed some of his own drink to the side.
Shouts of alcohol abuse rang throughout the room. Easily, there were fifty of us inside the rented space.
The boys had managed to rent out a banquet hall inside the Cosmopolitan. We were catered to and served some of the finest Spanish food I’d ever eaten. From signature tapas to their in-house special, paella, it was all really good.
It didn’t hurt that these celebrities were chart toppers in their respective genres.
“Fuck you all with a rusty wooden spoon,” I semi slurred, and the room erupted in cheers. They all followed suit and stood holding their own beverage up in a toast. “Tonight, I drink to my girl and her perfect everything. To Slim...”
“To Slim,” they repeated.
“May she put up with my ass until we are old and grey.”
“Hear, hear.”
“May her patience run long when I am an ass.”
“Preach, my brother,” Tex yelled over the others.
“May she never change. Because my girl is perfect as-is.”
“Amen.” Ace, the front man for a heavy metal group, spoke up. We didn’t know each other that well, but ran in some of the same circles. Hung out a few times. I was surprised by his response and raised a brow in question. “What?” He shrugged. “I’ve seen the pictures of you two, and she is smoking...total beauty.”
Couldn’t fault the man.
Arianna Garcia, soon to be Greene, was perfection.
“Amen accepted.” The rest of the room clapped and then threw their drinks back. “Now enough with the mushy shit...” this caused more laughter “...I got money to burn through at the tables. Let’s go gamble, motherfuckers.”
“About time!” Rick clapped me on the shoulder as we made our way outside and into the high roller’s area. This particular room catered to those that liked to raise the stakes. Our group booked the room for the night and brought the limits up to twenty thousand to buy in.
Once inside, the boys and I took a seat around a blackjack table.
Our dealer, an Asian male, greeted us with a smile and a literal snap of his fingers. “Good evening, gentlemen. All bets will begin at the price set by the groom.”
“Let’s start at five thousand first hand buy in.”
Chips were placed on the betting squares while a girl no younger than twenty-one came toward our table in a short, black dress. My eyes wandered the room and found four other women dressed in the same fashion taking drink orders.
“Would you like something to drink?” No flirting or eyes made. Just a straight-up question, thank you, Jesus. I liked her already.
For not being obnoxious, she’d get a huge tip from me.
“Can you get us the gin and tonics served at the Spanish restaurant here?” Rick asked, his eyes on the dealer’s hands. “We’d like one of each for now, if that is possible.”
“Right away, sir.” She turned to leave, but then paused and looked back over at me. “Your girlfriend’s really hot, Mr. Greene. Love the pictures of you two together.”
“I’ll be sure to let her know.” I smirked and shook my head. Slim gets attention: present or not.
“Okay,” she squeaked before rushing off, and fuck me, if we didn’t all crack up.
“Arianna Garcia strikes again,” Tex drawled while nudging my shoulder. After our talk yesterday, he’d mellowed out. Seemed to be at peace with whatever decision he’d come to.
“Word,” the other two added with a chuckle.
Our dealer cleared his throat with a grin. “I too have seen the pictures, and she is a beautiful girl, Mr. Greene.” His voice was low as to not disturb the other games going on around us. That, or he was afraid to upset me. “You are one lucky man.”
“Thank you. I am very lucky indeed.” With a nod, he shuffled then placed the cards inside of the shoe. “By the way,” I called out, and he looked up, “call me Chester, and those three are Rick, Cris, and Tex.”
“Of course.”
Cigars were passed around then and I took one for myself. “Anyone have a cutter handy?”
“Happy ball to your chain,” Ace said, his large hand suddenly clapping me on the shoulder while a platinum guillotine cutter was presented to me with Slim’s initials and mine.
“Nice...” I admired the gift and then gave the man a hug. Clipping the end, I used the lighter Ace provided before walking away. The other three followed suit while I took in a slow drag of smoke into my lungs. Held it for three seconds and let it out slow. “Fuck, very nice indeed. Cuban?”
“Ernesto sent a little gift,” Rick said before taking a pull from his own. “Personal stash, if I’m not correct.”
Jesus, I love my in-laws.
“We love your in-laws,” the other two added in unison while I nodded. They were the shit.
“All right.” I clapped my hands together loudly to call attention to the room. “Let’s gamble, motherfuckers...” all within the space held up their cigars or drinks “my ass is getting married in a few days, and I want to celebrate. May you all lose and I always win.”
They all grumbled some form of the word fuck in a sentence.
“Deal, my good man.” Cris grabbed his drink from the tray brought to our table, finished it in two gulps, and then grabbed another. “I’m eager to fatten my pockets.”
“As you wish, Cris.” Our dealer dealt out cards, sliding two out of the shoe and then placed them face up in front of each of us. No one had a high card, and we all nodded for the next hit.
Dealer took his cards; one face down and the other up, before resuming the round. No one hit twenty-one, but on the next round Cris and Rick were out.
“Sorry.” He didn’t look contrite at all. Looking at the card on the table, I noticed that for me to win, I’d need a card no higher than a five. That, or an ace that could be counted as a one in this case. “Another card?”
“Yes,” came from Tex and me.
Three quick draws from the card holder and we each had cards.
“Fucking shit.” Tex was out.
Looking down at the dealer’s hand, I waited for the man to flip his card over. Eyes on mine, he did and it was a high card. My four beat his jack, leaving me with twenty to his twenty-three.
“I win.” My boys groaned beside me while I took in my winnings. Sore losers.
And to think that this was just the first hand.
I Love You...
We have a dress!!!!! ~Slim’s Momma
That was my greeting as the plane touched down in Miami Sunday morning. We’d landed earlier than expected, a full thirty minutes, and I was anxious to get off this thing and into my girl’s arms.
Not that she expected me.
Woman had not called me since Friday evening after a failed day of shopping. Nothing was good enough or the right style. No one complained—made a big deal out of the fact that it seemed as she had forgotten about Yuli’s cousin fake wedding dress emergency.
Thank God! Did you get a chance to pick it up? ~Chester
By the way, I just landed. ~Chester
Ari had been a woman on a mission. Forty-eight hours of nonstop online shopping and visiting stores. Her mother and best friend had done a fine job of keeping me up to date through text—cracking me the fuck up with their overdramatic anecdotes.
Ernesto and I are picking it up now. Will you have time to meet up for lunch? ~Slim’s Momma
“Thank you for flying with us today, please enjoy your stay in...” While the pilot welcomed the passengers, I was up and out of my seat. I had my bag down from the overhead compartment before everyone else in my area had unbuckled his or her seatbelts.
With my carry-on over my shoulder, I stood ready to exit. First in the motherfucking line.
“Enjoy your stay, sir,” the head stewardess said with a smile as the door to the plane opened.
“Thank you.” Remembering Maria’s last text, I checked my itinerary and replied:
Slim and I leave for the island early evening. Meet up at three? ~Chester
Immediately, my phone pinged again. Jesus, that woman typed fast.
Perfect. And welcome home, mijo. ~Slim’s Momma
Home.
Anywhere and everywhere was my home as long as Arianna was with me.
Fifteen minutes later, I was out of the airport’s door and heading toward an excited-looking Gabriel. “She’s going to flip,” he exclaimed once I was near, clapping me on the back in the middle of our bro hug. “Can’t believe that you guys are getting married. Thank you.”
“For what?”
He’d lost his giddiness for a moment and leveled me with a pensive expression. “The way you love her, so complete, it’s brought a smile to her face—a level of pure happiness that we’d never seen before on her. You make her happy. For that, thank you.”
Snorting, I shook my head, breaking the sudden seriousness. “Or are you really thanking me for the free vacation to a private island?”
“That too!” Gabriel laughed, extending a hand out for me to bump his fist. Dork. “Wish I could see her face when you lay it all out there...Ari’s going to probably take a swing at and then kiss you. Between you and me...” he unlocked his car and then pointed a finger between us “...she’s freaking out about planning the big day. This will be a massive stress reliever for her.”
“That’s all I want, Gabe. To make shit easier and start on this journey. There’s no reason for us to wait.”
With a snort, he tossed my small bag in his back seat and then looked around me for something. “Where’s the rest of it?”
I raised a brow at him. “Where’s what?”
“The rest of your baggage?” Man even gave me the are you an idiot look.
My mature reply? I flipped him off. “Back home.”
“But you are leaving tonight?”
It was my turn to give him an exasperated look. “And?”
“You’ll need it.”
“Won’t need it for the next forty-eight hours. My sister has—”
His eyes widened when he caught on, and then he looked a bit grossed out. “Say no more, man. She’s like a sister....please...no more.”
I laughed. And hard.