To set the stage, it's New Year's Eve and the Elk's Lodge is the place to see and be seen in Trenton for the holiday party. All the usual suspects are in attendance…including Barnyard.
The champagne flowed freely and the DJ kept the crowd primed and engaged, pumping the volume on the more dance-worthy tunes and lowering it on the slow ones so the lovers in attendance could whisper sweet nothings to each other. The Elks, in a move that surprised most of the citizens of Trenton, paid a real, honest-to-goodness party planner from the city to decorate, so the usual slapdash décor was replaced by chic, tasteful ornamentation. The Elks reasoned that with all the city had been through the past summer, it was deserving of a real celebration. The atmosphere was definitely conducive to partying.
In a corner of the crowded hall, huddled in a group near the bar, were several Rangemen. For a few of them, it was the first they'd seen of each other since before the holidays and they were eager to rag on the few guys with steady girlfriends who had spent time catering to their women.
Binkie was a self-proclaimed happy old married man, though he had yet to actually marry his long-time girlfriend, and he had no trouble taking the guys' ribbing. Junior, married three years, was rolling his eyes and flipping his friends off with regularity. The men knew better than to give Ranger grief, and since none of them wanted to start the New Year as a human pancake, Tank was also off-limits. That left Lester.
"Come on, Santos, let's go find Giana's purse and see if you can borrow your balls so you can take some shots with us." Bones had gotten a fair head start on the shots and didn't pull out any stops when it came to busting Lester's balls.
Les only snorted and shook his head while rolling his eyes, thinking to himself that Stephanie would have been proud of that Smartass Trifecta. "Laugh all you want, Chuckles – I spent 3 days with my hot girlfriend at her mom's place, who, by the way, is the coolest mom ever. I had a great Christmas, and if relinquishing controlling interest in my balls is the price, I'll happily pay it." And he cheekily flipped his friends off before walking away to raucous laughter, in search of his girlfriend.
He found her on the dance floor, dancing the bachata with Hector to some slow, sultry woman's voice crooning over the speakers. He'd been delighted to find that she had a good natural rhythm a few months before and had loved teaching her various Latin dances he remembered from childhood. His grandfather had attended every family event and, as he usually had Lester with him, dragged his grandson along to expose him to his cultural roots.
Lester's jealousy, while always present, was less of a problem these days. Giana had been true to her word, and whenever the green monster had reared its ugly head, she'd wasted no time in reassuring him through whatever means he needed. Smiling to himself, Lester recalled how most of those episodes had ended in the bedroom. Now, more than ever, he was sure of her commitment to him and of her unwavering support….and he was certain that he wanted to marry her.
Every time, every single time he'd lost his cool and needed to be reeled in by Giana, she'd done so with patience and acceptance. He never felt judged, not even when he'd taken her desperately fast, his skin burning with its need to feel hers.
"Mine, Giana. Only mine." He'd hissed, thrusting furiously, pressing her against the wall of a supply closet after some asshole had come onto her while she tried on Halloween costumes with Stephanie this past fall. After she'd summarily dismissed the man, he'd yanked her into the nearest room with a lock on it, desperate for her. She'd nodded, pressing her lips to his and murmured her ascension. "All yours. Only yours. Always yours, baby," as he'd come inside her, clutching her thighs frantically and burying his face in her neck to muffle his cry.
Shaking himself from his reverie, he focused on her smiling face as Hector dipped her dramatically. He admired her from his perch a few yards away, her happy demeanor and beautiful smile, and for the millionth time thought, I love that woman.
A nudge to the ribs broke his concentration, and Bobby sidled up alongside him with a dark green bottle. "Have a beer, you fucking Quaker." He baited his best friend effortlessly after their dozen years of friendship, and Les only grinned and threw back a muttered insult before taking the beer from Bobby.
Nodding toward Gia, he asked quietly, "You talk to Charlene?"
Lester pulled him back from the gathered crowd before answering, "Yeah. I almost puked, but I talked to her. She was great, hugged me and told me she was pulling for me." He grinned as he recounted the conversation with Giana's mom.
He'd followed her up to the attic after offering to help her locate the missing wise man for the nativity scene. As he'd stood, nervously cracking his knuckles and shifting his weight, he debated on how to broach the topic of wanting to marry her daughter with Charlene.
Her head had been buried in an old wardrobe when she'd called, "Out with it, Lester. You're as jumpy as a Protestant near Holy water." She'd stepped back and smiled at him to take any sting from her words and waited patiently while he'd hemmed and hawed, unsure of exactly what he should say.
Charlene had put him out of his misery when she'd laid a hand on his forearm and spoken. "As long as you didn't bring me up here to tell me that you've knocked up my unwed daughter, you and I are going to be fine. Now, are you here to tell me you'd like to marry my Giana?"
Stunned into silence, Lester could only nod. Charlene's answering smile was wistful and she'd said, "You love her, I can see that. But love isn't always enough; you're going to have to work at being friends, no matter what argument or fight you've had. And always remember this: he who has nothing to hide, hides nothing. Let each other into every part of your lives and you'll do fine." And then she'd pulled him into the kind of hug only a mother can give, leaving a small part of him aching for more, before she'd smiled at him and ushered him back downstairs.
Bobby clapped his back and tilted his bottle toward Lester, saying, "A toast, to the end of an era – I'm going to have to find another wingman for the ladies to fawn over!" as they clinked bottles and drank to Bobby's pursuit of Lester's replacement.
Just then, a manicured hand settled on Lester's chest and a nasally voice purred, "Aw, come on, you can't tell me you're done playing the field yet, handsome." Joyce Barnhart slithered between the men, effectively pressing herself against both of them at the same time. "You know, I never did get to sample the goods… maybe you keep me in mind when you decide you need a little variety?" She flicked a glance at Bobby, smirking at what she obviously assumed was a moment of triumph. Joyce turned back to a clearly irritated Lester before licking her lips sensually and leaning forward to whisper in his ear.
Just as Lester's hand settled on her shoulder to push her away, he felt Joyce's body yanked away from his chest.
Giana stood with her feet apart, fists on her hips, and glared at Joyce. "Keep your forked tongue away from my boyfriend, Barnyard." Her voice was eerily calm and she exuded an aura of pure pissed-off female, enough so that anyone dancing in a ten-foot radius was now covertly watching the confrontation.
Joyce took in her competitor's stance, the menace clear on Giana's face, and decided that she'd like to live to poach another day. "Yeah, sure." She chirped before flouncing off in search of her next victim.
Gia looked pointedly at Lester, who withered under her glare and started sweating. Before he could open his mouth to explain what had been happening, Stephanie piped up. "Don't blame Lester; Joyce is like the world's worst herpes flare-up. She never goes away and she pops up at the worst time." Lula had followed her friends over to watch the melee and nodded sagely before adding, "I had a previous, uh, industry peer who had herpes, and to be honest, I'd take them over having to deal with Joyce any day."
I'm totally buying Beautiful some flowers, Lester thought, grateful for the rescue. Seemingly placated, Gia just nodded and placed a perfunctory kiss on his cheek before turning to go lick her wounds at the bar.
Again, Stephanie interjected, "That's the kiss you want Joyce to see you leave him with? You sure about that?" Giana hesitated before again leaning in and laying a kiss so tawdry, so heated on Lester that Lula whooped and said, "Girl, slow it down! I think I just got pregnant watching you two!"
Giana broke their kiss and leaned back, staring into Lester's eyes meaningfully. "Mine." She said, stabbing her finger into his chest pointedly. Rendered speechless by her kiss, he could only nod dumbly before she turned and made her way to the bar, Lula and Stephanie trailing behind with matching grins.
A greenhouse. Steph totally deserves an entire greenhouse full of flowers, he thought dumbly. Bobby's grin rivaled Stephanie's, and only grew wider as Tank and Ranger slid into place beside him. "Any particular reason you just set the bar so high for me later tonight?" Ranger asked, flashing a smile so bright that the women passing by with drinks dropped them on the floor, blushing wildly.
"That was a woman marking her territory. Sheee-it, Santos, I hope you're hydrated cuz that woman ain't just letting this go. You're in for it tonight." Tank's usually stoic personality had been abandoned tonight, helped mightily by Jack Daniels, and his joviality caused the men to snicker and clink bottles in gleeful acknowledgment.
At the bar, Lula wasted no time in ordering three shots of tequila and beer chasers.
After passing them out and doing their best not to choke on the booze, Lula slammed her empty shot glass on the bar and announced, "It just ain't fair. You two won the sexy Cuban badass lottery and I'm here with old whatsisface." She gestured at her date for the evening, currently loading his plate with appetizers for the third time and balancing a dessert plate on his massive forearm.
Stephanie slid onto the barstool next to Lula. "I thought you liked Devon?" she asked woozily; she'd never won in a 'Stephanie vs. Tequila' showdown before, and tonight was shaping up to be another defeat.
Lula rolled her eyes. "It's Darren, and no I don't like him! He's not that great in the boudoir department, his feet smell like dirty Cheetos, and he is dumb. The man did not know his middle name, I shit you not. He had to pull out his driver's license to check. How dumb you got to be that you don't know your own name?! Even a dumb dog comes when you call it. Nah, I'm not crazy about ole' Devon."
"I thought you said his name was Darren?" Giana snorted out between giggles.
Lula waved a dismissive hand. "I guess. Anyway, I couldn't come to a New Year's party solo. That's just sad. I was hoping to trade up tonight, but it's not looking so good."
Stephanie squinted her eyes across the room to locate her husband, noting that he was standing with Tank. "What about Tank? Are you guys over, for sure?"
Lula huffed out an exaggerated, "Huh." and rolled her eyes before saying, "Girl, Tankie only has room for one girl in his life and her name is Miss Kitty. He ain't about to put those cats out for nobody, so I'm off Tank. For now." She amended when Stephanie quirked one eyebrow at her.
"How 'bout you and Batman? Everything looks…cozy." Lula grinned at her friend slyly, hoping the tequila had loosened Stephanie's resolve to keep her personal business, personal. When Steph only grinned drunkenly and shook her head, Lula rolled her eyes and turned to Giana expectantly.
"Fine, then. You. Spill." She demanded. Before Gia could sputter an excuse, Connie bustled up. "Did you hear?!" she hissed, swinging her ample bosom around to wedge into the space between the stools so she could whisper covertly.
"Jeanne Ellen just showed up."
Her words penetrated Stephanie's booze-soaked conscious and she sat bolt upright. "What?!" She shrieked, then shrank down when she realized she was drawing stares, then lowered her voice. "What?!" she hissed.
"Who's Jeanne Ellen?" Giana asked, her eyebrows reaching toward her hairline.
Lula turned and gave Gia a pointed look. "Jeanne Ellen is Catwoman."
Giana understood the implication immediately and said. "Got it. Come on, Manoso, we've got to get you in battle gear." while tugging Stephanie toward the restroom.
Ten minutes later, Stephanie was back. Her bra, a solid 34B, had been exchanged for Giana's 32C and the excess space crammed with almost an entire roll of toilet paper; Victoria's Secret was missing an entire market by only offering a Miracle Bra. The cleavage she was sporting now was more like a Hallelujah, My Boob Prayers Have Been Answered Bra.
Her makeup had been touched up, her hair sprayed higher, and Connie had manipulated her dress so that the waist was cinched up to reveal another inch of thigh. As Lula instructed Stephanie on the art of a casual show of dominance and Connie tried to interject her own advice, Lula smarted back, "Hush! I'm the brains of this operation, and you're the boobs. And I'm trying to school my white girl here in how to put that old-ass Barbarella wannabe in her place!" In short, Stephanie Manoso had her claws out.
As the women made their way back out to the crowded room, they kept a keen eye out for the approaching enemy.
Connie spotted her first. "Sonovabitch, she works fast!" she murmured as she nodded her head toward Jeanne Ellen.
Jeanne had shown up in full Catwoman gear. She was dressed in a skintight leather dress, red instead of her usual black. Her hair was tousled and her lips bore the culmination of no less than three expensive lip stains and/or glosses. Most infuriating was her stance; casually draped across the table to showcase her cleavage, eyes trained on Ranger's face as he made low pitched conversation with her.
Stephanie, a cup size bigger and feeling a foot taller than when she'd departed, slunk up to Ranger and pressed her breasts against his arm, kissing his earlobe chastely.
Step One, Lula had said, was establishing existing physical intimacy.
Ranger turned to his wife, one eyebrow raised in a perfect arch. "Okay there, Babe?" he asked, dropping his eyes to her now ample cleavage.
"Perfect, Carlos, just perfect." She purred, flashing a smirk in Jeanne Ellen's direction.
Step Two, according to Lula – drop the street name everyone calls him. Ranger is the badass security expert. Carlos is the man she married.
Jeanne's eyes widened fractionally before she forced a pinched smile onto her face. "Stephanie Plum, it's been awhile." She gritted out, regaining her composure and arching her impossibly long neck, fluttering her eyelashes and glancing at Ranger. He wore a smirk, no doubt having caught onto what his wife was up to.
Step Three, go in for the kill.
"Now, Jeanne Ellen, you know I changed it to Manoso when I got married; Carlos insisted. He's a bit of a caveman that way, always needing to have me marked in some fashion." Here she winked at Jeanne before continuing, "Why, I had the darndest time finding a dress for tonight that covered the majority of his 'marks'." And she trilled the fakest, bitchiest laugh she could muster before turning to Ranger. "Carlos, would you mind if we cut out early? I'd like to get home and enjoy ringing in the New Year in our bedroom."
Without so much as a nod farewell, Ranger scooped his wife up and made his hasty retreat toward the exit. Lula whooped and beamed as Jeanne Ellen beat a hasty, sour-faced retreat, and the trio made their way back to the dance floor.
As the clock ticked down, Lester moved around the crowded room in search of his errant girlfriend. She'd done a fair job at diplomatically avoiding him since his run-in with Joyce and he was determined to start their first year together off on the right foot.
He finally cornered her as she was exiting the ladies' room. She met his eyes and smiled tightly, her shoulders stiff as she moved to step around him.
"Stop! Listen, I get that maybe it didn't look like it, but I was in the process of getting rid of Joyce when you walked up. I swear, baby, I was like, the victim! And anyway," he said crossly, "I can't believe you'd just automatically think the worst of me. Have I given you any reason, ever, to think I'd ever be 'that guy'?"
Gia sighed drunkenly and hung her head; Lester was right, and she'd known all along that he wasn't flirting with Joyce. Still, it begged the question…
"Why me?" she whispered, avoiding his intense gaze.
"Why you….what?" Lester's confusion was apparent, and if she wasn't so distraught she'd have kissed the worry off of his beautiful face.
She shrugged, embarrassed, before blurting, "You've been with a lot of women, Les, women who are probably sexier and prettier and…and…just, better than me. I just…I wonder sometimes how long I'll be enough for you before you miss all of that, the being with different women all time and the ego stroking and – "
She was interrupted as Lester crushed her to his chest and kissed the words off of her lips. It was a soul-rending, love-affirming kiss and it took her breath away.
Pulling back, Lester rested his forehead against Giana's as she struggled to steady her breath. Opening his eyes, now inches from her closed ones, he whispered "Eyes, Giana," and when she parted her lids, he was taken aback at the sorrow in them. He choked out in a guttural voice, "All of that, Gia, was killing time. I waited for you, for this, my whole life. I just didn't know it, and I'm glad I was oblivious…because if I'd known you were out there, I'd never have rested or had a moment's peace until I'd found you, and what a miserable life that would've been. I'm here, tonight, with you, because I want you more than I want air to breath. I love you, I love you, I love you, forever."
As the clock ticked down and the party-goers at the Elks counted down to midnight, Lester began his New Year exactly where he wanted to end and begin each year for the rest of his life – wrapped in Giana's arms.