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“Jude?” Beth comes on the line. “How can I help?”
Shit.
How do I say this?
“I need help,” I say clearly, no need to beat around the bush. “My wife and child are due to arrive within the next few days. My house—”
“Your what?!” Johnathan explodes out at me. “Did you order a mail order bride?”
“What?” I ask in confusion. “Why in the world would I do that?”
“Johnathan!” Beth shouts at him. “Give him a chance to explain?”
“Fine,” After a few attempted starts, he asks, “When did you get a wife and child?”
“Well…” I answer. “Tonight actually.”
“Ah, fuck,” Johnathan groans. “Are they tied up in your basement?”
“Johnathan!” Beth growls out at him, and I can just picture her annoyance.
“No, of course not. I wouldn’t tie a child up in my basement,” I say and still can’t understand why he’s thinking these things. “Let me start from the beginning.”
“I think you should,” Johnathan says. “Wait, you didn’t say you wouldn’t tie a woman up in your basement.”
“Anyways,” I say, ignoring the statement. “I was at the strip club we bought…”
“Oh Jude, honey,” Beth groans. “They don’t really like you. I know they act like—”
“What?” I say in confusion again then realize what she meant. “Oh no, not like that. She’s a waitress.”
“So how the hell is she your wife? How they hell do you have a child?” Johnathan mutters through the phone.
“Well, you remember when Lily and Lucifer met?” I ask.
“What the fuck is it with you men and kidnapping your women?” Beth says, and this time Johnathan remains silent.
She does have a point, I guess.
Trying to get past all of the hoopla this is becoming, I say, “I need a woman’s help in getting the house ready for occupancy.”
“Occupancy…” Beth says. “You sound a little too clinical.”
“Okay. I need it to look less like I live here and more like a family could live here,” I say. “I have money.”
“You mean you want me to go shopping to decorate your house,” Beth asks carefully. “To decorate it.”
“Yes,” I answer.
“Oh, thank fuck it’s not me paying for it.” Johnathan laughs. “You have no idea what you’re asking for, Jude.”
“Shush,” Beth says to him. “We’re discussing a shopping spree here.”
Spree.
The only spree I’m familiar with is a killing spree. Is that what my credit card is going to feel like when it’s done with all the spending I feel coming on?
“What’s my limit?” she asks.
