Insistent ringing. Oh my god. Ringing. So much ringing. The world would never stop ringing. Until it did.
I had just enough time to think Thank god before Diego’s phone started up. He stirred against me. “’S Claris. You get it.”
My laughter was more of an amused huff. “This is how you’re going about proving that we’re equals in our relationship?”
“Mm hmm.” His hair was a mess. His eyes were closed. One of his bare legs was sticking out from under the sheet. “Plus, ’s for you.”
“Last I checked, Claris was your wife.”
He yawned massively and pulled the pillow over his head, mumbling something I thought was, “Go see.”
I reached for the pile of our clothes, unceremoniously stripped off beside the bed, and not in a flurry of passionate kissing either. Stripped off in an “almost too tired to bother” sense, which added to the confusion of belongings. I finally managed to find the culprit and hit answer. “Um, it’s Mason.”
She laughed warmly in my ear and said, “Check your front door. And thank the curvy young jogger in 2D for letting me into the building when you get a chance.” Then: click.
I glanced at the screen to confirm that she had actually hung up. Okay, then. I padded to the door, wrapping a robe around myself and listening for footsteps. Silence. I slowly peeked out.
A fancy-looking box that, fancy though it was, also looked a bit well used. I pulled it inside with some trepidation and set it on the kitchen island to open.
One wide ribbon, tied neatly. So dramatic, so Claris. Inside was a neat little tray with pastries and a press full of coffee, two mugs, a bowl of strawberries, and a note.
My darlings,
We’ll be at Perri’s, but wanted to drop this by first. You were both brilliant last night. I’m sure in more ways than one, wink wink. I got us a table for three at the Grill for nine. Time to start planning for the Next Big Thing!
Kisses,
Claris.
I padded back to the bed with the tray. “Coffee, babe.”
“Mmmm coffee.” He unearthed himself and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “She even left a note? She must be feeling sentimental.”
“She got dinner reservations so we can plan The Next—”
“—Big Thing, of course she does. Woman can’t rest for five damn minutes.”
I settled in beside him and selected a chocolate-dipped croissant as he poured the coffee. “And you can? What would you do if Claris came home and told you she’d decided you guys should take some time off?”
He laughed. “Wouldn’t happen. She’s never taken time off in her life. She spreads that story that I’m the one who works too hard, but have you seen her pause for a minute?”
“Maybe that’s what she’s doing with Perri.”
“Claris has many virtues, but putting work aside for the sake of sex is not one of them. Though she does sometimes have epiphanies at strange moments.”
I looked over, coffee cup halfway to my mouth. “Tell me she has not had work epiphanies while having sex.”
Diego grinned and clinked his mug against mine. “Some of her best work is done naked.”
“Oh my god. I can’t—I mean, I can, but—oh my god.”
“Now that we’ve covered that little tidbit, I wonder what the NBT is.” He sat back and picked up the other half of my croissant. “She was really excited about your work with our social media presence. I wouldn’t be surprised if she comes up with something along those lines. New forms of engagement, that kind of thing.”
“To what end?” I asked. “I thought you were making money on your line.”
“Sure, that’s money. But Claris wants to save the world. Didn’t she tell you? She wants a foundation, like the Gateses. Only ideally without the divorce.”
“Ooo. And yes, no divorce, good plan. What would the foundation do?”
“A lot of things, but she wants the main focus to be objective scientific studies into things like poor medical outcomes for women of color and the actual health risks, if any, of weighing more than our body-shaming culture says you should.”
I blinked. “Whoa, okay, that’s not where I thought this was going. I figured it’d be curing cancer or AIDS or something like that.”
“There are a lot of people doing those things. But it’s hard to find studies that aren’t funded directly or indirectly by corporations with a stake in their findings. It’s not super sexy, funding research studies. Except to Claris. And then the key is publicity, if the findings don’t correspond to the popular narrative.” He waved a hand and said sleepily, “It’s a whole thing.”
“It sounds like an idea with a lot of merit. The Diego Flores and Claris Russell Foundation?” It didn’t have an immediate ring, but I thought I could get used to it.
“She says that only works if you have massive name recognition. She really wanted to call it the Phoenix Foundation, but MacGyver already took that.” He said it with a slight smirk.
“Did you make fun of Claris for wanting to call her foundation after the secret government agency in MacGyver?” I asked.
“I may have done.”
“You’re a terrible man.”
“I am.” He nestled up against me, smelling like coffee and pastry. “A terrible, horrible man. Let’s spend the whole day in bed, okay?”
“We have dinner reservations at nine.”
“It’s not a church week?”
“My mom will understand. And um, if you want...” I almost faltered, then didn’t. “If you want, maybe you can come with me next Sunday?”
He kissed me until both of us were breathless. “I would love to do that. I would love to meet your mother. Are you sure she’ll be okay with rescheduling?”
I imagined the way her voice would sound when I told her I was bringing Diego and smiled at him. “Totally sure.”
“Then until nine, let’s stay here.”
“So you can demonstrate what a terrible, horrible man you are?”
He smiled and kissed my jaw, my cheek, my ear. “Mm hmm. Over and over again. We’ll conduct a study about it.”
“Ohhh, is that right?” I set my coffee down and took his as well. “An objective scientific study about what a terrible man you are?”
“Among other things.” He coaxed me lower, throwing his leg over mine, speaking in between kisses. “Will you be my research subject?”
I nibbled his earlobe. “I think I can manage that.”
“Oh good.” His hand cupped my cheek and the sunlight caught on his skin, making him glow. “I have such a lot to learn about you.”
“We have time,” I said. “So much time.”
And, as if that was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to him, his eyelashes fluttered, eyes going glassy. “So very much time.”
We kissed. And kissed again. And forgot about everything outside that shaft of golden light.