One
Rio’s eyes snapped open at the buzzing on the nightstand.
Blinking against the unfamiliar surroundings, she tried to place where she was. Memories from last night rushed forward as she reached to silence her phone before it woke—
Oh. Oops.
She definitely didn’t do that again.
Right?
Shit.
She definitely did.
The name of the woman next to her had completely slipped her mind. Still fumbling for her phone, she racked her brain for any hint of it. The buzzing of whiskey. Trashy neon signs, maybe? And, without a doubt, the feeling of said woman’s hands on her body.
But her name? It started with a C… maybe?
Pressing the volume button to mute her phone, Rio had just started untangling herself from the sheets when a groggy groan sounded beside her.
She winced. What? She didn’t want to talk to Chrissy. Sue her. It was time to go.
Sliding out of bed, she used her phone light to scan the floor for her clothes. Jeans, shirt, boots—left and right, thank you—where the hell was her jacket?
Hanging from the bedroom door. Of course.
She grabbed it carefully, moving quietly so she wouldn’t wake—
“Leaving already?”
Rio turned, caught mid-exit, phone clamped between her teeth, one foot in the air as she struggled with her boot zipper.
The woman—brunette, from what Rio could tell in the dim light—propped herself up on one elbow. “No breakfast?”
Rio plucked the phone from her mouth, flashing the lazy grin she saved for moments like these. “Didn’t want to overstay my welcome.”
The woman laughed softly. “You’re cute. You could’ve stayed.”
Rio tried not to let her face react. “Maybe next time.”
She didn’t need the light to know the woman was rolling her eyes.
Maybe her name started with a K.
Kaley. Definitely Kaley.
Her phone buzzed again, vibrating in her hand. She glanced down.
Jeni 🥬 (The Worst Kind of Vegetable)
Rio smirked at the contact name before hitting ignore. Automatic. Instinct.
Jennifer Kale calling at any hour was never a good thing, but at 2:30 AM? Yeah, definitely not answering that. Also, just send a text?
(Sure, okay, there might have been a few unread messages in her inbox, but in Rio’s defense, she had been busy. With Karly. And, more importantly, rent was due, which meant longer hours at the shop.)
Not like she and her stepsister talked much anyway. When was the last time Rio had even seen her? Six years ago? Sounded about right.
Her phone buzzed again.
Three times in a row?
Maybe Rio was lucky tonight—twice in one evening—and someone really was dying.
“You wanna get that? Sounds important,” Kathy—no, Kara—murmured.
Rio exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. She probably should answer. “Yeah.”
“Well,” Kelsey said, sitting up, letting the sheet drop to her waist, “before you go, I have one more thing for you.”
And maybe Rio licked her lips at the silhouette in front of her. Fine. But it’s not like her type had changed in the last three hours.
Before she could step back toward Kendall, her phone buzzed again.
She groaned, already walking toward the hallway. “I’ll be right back.”
Three doors later, she found a bathroom the size of a closet, locking herself inside. She took a second—just a second—to avoid looking at her own reflection.
Then she slid the answer button.
Waited.
Ten full seconds.
Then:
“Rio’s Crematorium, you ghost ‘em, we roast ‘em. Rio speaking, how can I help?”
“Rio.” Jen’s voice, exasperated.
“Yes, did I not just say Rio speaking?”
She could practically feel the look on Jen’s face. Eyebrow raised so high it might never come down.
“Well, it took you long enough to answer. I had to make sure.”
Rio swallowed a sigh. “It’s late, Jen. Unless someone’s dying—and I mean actively—this could’ve waited until morning.”
Silence.
A long one.
Long enough that Rio pulled the phone away from her ear—twice—to check if the call had dropped.
“Jen. What do you want?”
Another pause. Then a deep inhale, like Jen was bracing herself.
“Are you coming?”
Rio blinked. “Not that it’s any of your business, but maybe I was a couple hours ago before you rudely woke me and -”
Shit.
She really needed to stop doing that.
“And?”
“Never mind.” Rio scrubbed a hand down her face. “To answer your question, no, I’m not currently coming. Jen, is there a point to this?”
A beat.
Then: “Please tell me you didn’t forget.”
Rio frowned, glancing at the time. August 30th. 2:45 AM.
…Shit.
She totally forgot.
“No, Jeni, I didn’t forget,” Rio lied smoothly. “But catch me up anyway.”
“My wedding, Rio!” Jen screeched.
Rio winced, holding the phone away from her ear. The third time this phone call by the way.
Oh.
Right.
Jen’s wedding. The one Evanora - evil stepmother - had personally requested Rio work.
The one where Rio had to pack a thousand roses into her van on Tuesday morning and drive to Westview.
Ugh.
Well.
At least she could mess with Jen first.
“Wedding? You’re getting married? Who’d you trick?”
Rio grinned, even though she knew Jen wouldn’t hear it in her voice. She never did.
“Rio! Please tell me you’re kidding, because I really won’t find a florist in the next eight days.”
Okay, yeah, that was enough fun for now. Rio sighed. Had she mentioned it was nearly three in the morning? She was pretty sure she had.
“Yes, Jen. As the only florist in the family, I will be leaving here at precisely 7:69 AM with my van packed full of the one thousand yellow lilies you requested.”
“Yellow li—” Jen cut herself off. “Rio, roses. Red roses. Please, for the love of God, tell me there will be red roses at my wedding.”
Rio barely bit back a laugh. “Relax, Jen. I got it covered. I do have a contract with Evanora, you know.”
“Good. Because I personally don’t want to see the wrath of Evanora if you cancel on her only daughter’s wedding.”
Rio stilled.
.
.
.
Ouch.
.
.
.
Jen must have realized it, too, because Rio heard a faint, barely-there:
“…Fuck.”
Like she’d only just caught on.
Rio pushed down the pang in her chest. It wasn’t like words could hurt her anymore. Not from Jen. Not from anyone.
But damn if that one didn’t land right where her heart should be.
She needed to get off the phone.
“Listen, Jen, I’ll be there. Just send my hotel info.” Her voice was light. Easy. No cracks. “If you haven’t booked me a room yet, I strongly suggest you do.”
“I already sent it to your email.” A pause. “Tuesday, Rio. Events start Wednesday.”
“Got it.” Rio grunted and hung up, gripping the counter of—closet? Bathroom? Whatever. She glanced at her reflection one last time, took a deep breath, and decided she needed to get out of this apartment like she originally planned.
She opened the door and immediately heard movement coming from the other side of the apartment, opposite where she’d spent the past few minutes waking both herself and Kim up with that phone call.
Following the sound, she rounded the corner of the hallway and spotted the other woman in the kitchen, reaching for a cup on the top shelf of the cupboard.
Rio watched the hem of her shirt ride up over the curve of her—oh. No underwear.
So maybe she could stay. Just this once.
As quietly as her boots allowed, Rio stepped up behind her, easily reaching for the cup while placing a firm hand on her hip. She caught the sharp inhale, and the smirk stretched across her lips.
The woman twisted in her hold, Rio’s hand now somewhere between her belly button and her chest, as she grinned up at her.
“Changed your mind about staying?”
Rio let her smirk deepen, setting the cup down on the counter. Now free to use both hands, she wasted no time grabbing the other side of her waist, pulling her in. “I was considering it. If that’s okay with you, of course.”
Her lips traced a slow path down the woman’s neck, feeling arms loop around the back of her head. The soft sigh she earned made Rio’s smirk turn sharp against her skin.
She only stopped when fingers threaded into her hair, tugging her away from the spot she’d been happily marking. The other woman reached behind her, grabbing something off the counter—a small business card—before pressing it into Rio’s hand.
Rio glanced down and—yep. She was right. Her name does start with a K.
Kate Bishop
Bishop Event Planning
NYC
Flipping the card over, she took in the contact info and social media handles listed on the back.
“I know we only talked about this for like thirty seconds before I took you home,” Kate said, “but I do need a new florist. Send me a message when you’re done with the wedding from hell, as you so eloquently put it. I’ve got some huge events coming up for the holiday season.”
And of course Rio had mentioned her business while flirting. It was practically her go-to line. She’d argue it worked 99% of the time. The 1% it didn’t work on were the women she didn’t even bother talking to before their tongues were down her throat.
She smiled. “Of course.”
The moment was over.
Back to the original plan—get out of here right now. Because now she was thinking about Evanora’s only daughter’s wedding again, and she really, really didn’t want to be thinking about that right now.
Pulling back, Rio took her phone out of her pocket, snapped a quick photo of both sides of the card, then handed it back to Kate.
Kate frowned, clearly confused. Before she could say anything, Rio beat her to it.
“I’ll lose the card,” she said simply, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “But I won’t delete the picture. You should hear from me in two weeks or so. That work?”
Kate nodded, her smile creeping back onto her face.
Good.
Rio turned, double-checking that she had everything. When she faced Kate again, though, the frown was back.
Of course she thought Rio would stay.
Once again, Rio stayed ahead of it. “I have to meet some other clients tomorrow at eight,” she said, moving toward the door. “So I need to go. But we’ll talk in two weeks, okay?”
Kate nodded again.
Rio smirked, leaned in, and pressed a kiss to her cheek before finally turning back toward the front door.
She paused one last time, glancing over her shoulder.
“Two weeks, Kate Bishop.”
Then she was gone, stepping into the elevator, heading back down to the streets of New York.