Page 227 of The Art of Almost Losing It
“We can do an underwear-model show!”
“Whoo, take it off!” Piper hollers.
“Sorry,” Piper mouths to me. “But you get to go home to a guy. I have to go home to your parents’ house.”
“No strippers. We’re not paying you,” I warn the ski bums.
“I’m here to party,ma meuf.”
There’s a knock on the door. I hope it’s hotel security throwing us out.
But there aren’t any burly security guards to kick the ski bums out and tell us to be quiet. Instead, it’s a lanky man in a tux and bow tie with tails and a top hat. He has an oversized black suitcase with him.
“I’m sorry. I think you have the wrong room.” I rub my temple. I had way too much wine.
“I am Magnus the Marvelous!”
“Nope.” I try to shut the door.
“Dani, now look here.” Gran hustles over, a bottle of vodka in one hand. “Now you have to shape up, girlie. This is a bachelorette party, and you’re bringing down the vibes. Women support women.”
“You don’t have to sleep with any of these men—just sit back and enjoy the magic show.” Piper whoops.
The lanky man breezes past me.
I go hide in a corner as Magnus waves his arms and the suitcase turns into a table.
What the hell?
“I am Magnus the Marvelous!” the man announces, his hands outstretched. “And I need payment upfront before we can start the show.”
Everyone stares at me.
“Dani, pay the man.” Gran slaps a blow-up penis on the table.
“Credit card? I charge an extra fee,” Magnus informs me, showing me his phone.
“One thousand?” I choke on the price as I use the cash transfer app. “Um, excuse me, what are you doing here? You cannot be a stripper.”
Also, I really should not have used Graham’s card.
“You don’t need a stripper.” He rolls up his sleeves and pulls out a wand. “When you have Magnus!”
He claps his hands. “My first trick,” he announces, “is a classic. Sit.” He orders me away from him. “I can’t have you knowing my secrets.” He takes a napkin from the table and makes a big show of shaking it out.
“Empty,” he says. “Truly empty.” He snaps his fingers. A very familiar object drops onto the table. Silence.
“That’s…” I clamp my mouth shut as the dildo bounces on the coffee table.
“Oh my God!” Colette and the Girl Squad start giggling.
Gran’s face lights up in recognition.
No, no, no.
“Hey, that’s yours.”
“Gran!”
