| 43 | Feeling Matrimonial

[ D O M I N I C O ]

When I arrive at the hotel room Alfeo described in his last text, I'm greeted by courtside noises blaring from the flat screen TV. It's not a huge suite, but the room's big enough for a couple of people.

Sprawled on the sofa, Alfeo sports brand new-looking white trainers, another expensive shirt, and loose blue pants, his eyes fixed on the screen. Like every time I see him near a TV, he's watching his favorite ballers humiliate the other team for bragging rights. Alfeo doesn't even flinch when I smack the back of his head.

“Wine?” I make a face at the corkless bottle next to the couch. I take the seat to his right. “It's eight in the morning.”

“Five o'clock somewhere.” He pumps his fist, then jumps off the sofa, roaring like he's the one who just shot a three-pointer just as the buzzer rang.

“This place reeks of hookers. Did you just kick 'em out?”

Alfeo finally tears his gaze away from the TV and flips me off. “Where's your future wife?” He glances behind