-Fancy by Iggy Azalea featuring Charli XCX-

"Thank you so much for inviting us," said Denise, as she and Mark sat across from Amanda and Alexander at their table.

"Oh, it's no problem," Amanda waved her hand nonchalantly. "We thought we could lift your spirits after that Karen lady gave you such a hard time. What a bitch," Amanda rolled her eyes, and drank some of her glass of water.

"You took the words right out of my mouth," grinned Denise. "It's so hard to find decent customer service these days. You know what I mean?"

"Totally," Amanda agreed, putting her glass of water down.

Mark arched an eyebrow at Denise. She was going full-throttle on the acting, and she was doing well.

The waiter comes over and asks them about drinks. Before anyone could say anything, Alex spoke up. "Can we have a bottle of red wine for the table, and we'll all have the house special."

"Very well, sir," the waiter nodded and walked away.

Usually, Denise and Mark weren't into fancy stuff like wine. They vouched for some hard liquor or a beer.

Aaron and Eva Heard, on the other hand, were trying something new.

"Alex has a habit of not asking people what they want before making decisions," Amanda rubbed her husband's arm, "I hope you guys are okay with that."

"Shit, man, you're the one paying," shrugged Mark.

Denise shot him a look, and he shrugs innocently.

"Can't say the same for Aaron here, but I'm usually quite stubborn when it comes to people making decisions for me. Since you are treating, though, I'll let it slide."

"By reading your shirt, I can tell you're a woman who doesn't take shit from anybody," Alex stares at Denise admiringly, "I appreciate that."

"Thank you," Denise looked down at her t-shirt.

It read: Me? Sarcastic? No.

"It's one of my favorite shirts, gives you a glimpse into my personality before you talk to me."

"I see, I see," smiled Alex.

Denise gave a small smile in return. She tried not to show how confused she was at why Alex was staring her down so hard with his wife sitting there.

"So, what brings you guys to Portland?" Mark asked.

"Vacation," Alex held Amanda's hand. "We're head of our family's oil company. It takes so much if our time, we think of it as our baby. We needed a break."

"Desperately," Amanda agreed. "What about you, guys?"

"We're celebrating our engagement. I finally got her to say yes," Mark took Denise's hand. "This one was hard to catch."

"Oh, stop," Denise playfully slapped his arm.

"Aww, that's so beautiful, congratulations!" gushed Amanda. "You guys are the cutest, aren't they Alex?"

"They are."

"Thanks," smiled Denise. "We too needed a break from work. We have our own construction company. We go into low-income cities and build houses for families in need."

"Wow," Alexander's eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, it's a gratifying job, isn't it, honey?" Denise looked at Mark, who nodded, "is it, it is."

"That is amazing," Amanda held her hands over her heart.

Just in time, the waiter returns with their bottle of red wine. He pours some into each of their glasses, and once he leaves, Alex lifts his glass.

"A toast, to the newly engaged couple. To Aaron and Eva."

"To Aaron and Eva," said Amanda as the four, clinked their glasses together.

Mark and Denise looked at one another as they drank some of their wine. It wasn't as sweet as they had imagined, but nonetheless, it was alcohol.

Suddenly, Alexander's phone rings.

He pulls it out, "I'm sorry. I have to take this."

"Babe," Amanda looked at him disapprovingly.

"I'm sorry, I'll be quick," Alex kissed her on the cheek and excused himself from the table.

"He talks about needing a break, but he doesn't know how to take one," Amanda rolled her eyes but smiled. "Anyway, can I be honest with you two for a second?"

"Of course," said Denise."

"You guys are the most beautiful couple I've ever seen. Eva, your skin is too die for, and Aaron, I love your tattoos. They are so . . . so . . . sexy."

Simultaneously, Denise and Mark's eyebrows rose in surprise. A compliment was one thing, but Amanda was straight forward, unapologetically.

In response, Mark looked away and drank some of his wine.

"Um, thank you," Denise cleared her throat. "You're um . . . really pretty too. I love the highlights."

"Thank you," Amanda swirled a strand of hair around her fingers.

The waiter returned to the table with their key cards.

"Thank you," Mark took them on. "We should actually go get settled in," he looked at Denise.

"Good idea," Denise agreed.

"Oh, no, please don't go," pouted Amanda.

"You guys are leaving?" Alex returned to the table. "So soon?"

"Yeah," Mark nods. "We actually drove here, so we're pretty tired."

"Oh, where from?" Amanda asked.

"New York/Philidelphia," Denise and Mark talked over each other.

"I mean, we came from Philidelphia, stopped in New York and then came here," Denise explained, as Mark nodded.

"Well, of course, you guys are tired," Amanda understood.

She pushes away from the table, and stands with her husband, "we can get you guys food sent up to your room."

"We'd appreciate it," said Mark, "and thank you for lunch."

"Thank you for coming," Amanda shook their hands along with Alex, who said, "We should get together while we're here. See some sights. We know some nice spots here, in Portland."

Mark and Denise look at each other, trying to decline without really declining.

"Okay, okay," said Mark. "Yeah, maybe, sounds fun. We'll let you know."

"That we will," Denise hooked her arm with Mark. "Nice meeting you guys."

The two turned around, trying to hold in laughter.

"What the hell was that?" Mark whispered as they walked away.

"I don't know," snickered Denise.

______

As weird as Amanda and Alex had acted, they had hooked Denise and Mark up. The penthouse was breathtaking. There was a widescreen TV, a full kitchen, a living room, a king-size bed, glass shower, and a luxurious, spacious tub.

The best part of the penthouse, however, was the rooftop patio.

Denise and Mark stood next to each other, staring at the city of Portland.

"This view is amazing," commented Mark.

"Yeah," Denise crossed her arms over her chest. "It kind of makes me feel bad for ditching them."

She turned to go back inside, and Mark follows.

"To be fair, Alex was totally undressing you with his eyes."

"What?" Denise scoffed, sitting on the living room couch.

"Don't act like you didn't notice," Mark sits on the arm of the couch.

"Of course, I noticed. Alex is hot, but I'd never sleep with someone else's husband, knowingly."

"And you're not doing guys anymore, remember?" Mark reminded her.

"Right," Denise grabbed a pillow and held it to her chest. "But don't act like you're innocent."

"What do you mean?"

"Amanda wants to devour you, Mark. 'You're tattoos are so . . . so . . . sexy," Denise mocked the brunette, making Mark laugh. "They're definetly swingers."

"What? No," Mark shook his head.

"I'm telling you they're swingers. I've met some people. While it's not my style, couples try to court me every now and again."

"There's no way," Mark didn't believe it.

"That's the only explanation."

"They could just be really nice people who aren't afraid to display their attraction towards others."

"Yeah," Denise nodded. "Swingers."

"Alright, you got it," Mark took his pack of Marlboros out of his pocket and started walking toward the patio.

Hearing a knock on the door, Denise sprung up, "that must be our food."

Luckily for her, it was. The food was brought on a serving tray along with a new bottle of red wine.

"From the Bonavich's," bowed the waiter.

"Thank you," Denise was all smiles.

She was living the life.

Once the waiter leaves, she pushes the tray out to the patio. "Lunch is served."

"Great, I'm starving," Mark sits on the couch.

"And look, they sent us more red wine," Denise gestured to the bottle. "But I'd rather have beer."

"You read my mind," Mark blew some into the air.

Denise went to the fridge to get two beers from the pack they brought from the car.

She returned to the patio to find Mark had spread their food out on the table.

"Here you go," she gave him his beer.

"Thank you."

The two used the coffee table as a bottle opener and toasted.

"To living luxuriously," said Denise.

"To living luxuriously."

Mark clinked his bottle with hers, and they dug into their food.

__________

Getting pulled out of her sleep was becoming a regular thing for Denise, and she did not appreciate it.

The culprit today was someone knocking on the door. Unfortunately, Mark was in the shower, making it, so she had to get up.

Braless and in nothing but a tank top and underwear, Denise trudged out of the bedroom. She opened the door, and standing there was a guy with a food cart.

"Room service!" he greeted her with a wide smile.

Denise rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, "I didn't order room service."

"No, you didn't ma'am. Do you mind if we come in?"

"We?" Denise arched a brow and step to the side.

Five guys followed him in, all with carts.

Simultaneously, they take the cloches off to reveal different breakfast foods. There were eggs benedict, waffles, fresh fruit, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and toast. They brought the syrup, butter, jam, coffee, creamer, orange juice, apple juice, cranberry juice, whip cream - everything they could eat and would need.

"From the Bonavich's," the five men bowed. "Enjoy your breakfast, ma'am."

"Thank you," Denise was almost at a loss of words.

She closed the door behind them and turned her attention to the delicious food.

"Laying it on thick, aren't we?" she picked up a fresh strawberry and popped it in her mouth.

"Denise?" Mark called her from the bedroom.

"In here!"

Mark came out of the room in nothing but a towel.

"And you could have warned me," Denise glanced away for a second.

"What?" scoffed Mark, "I can handle you in your bright ass underwear, but you can't handle me in a towel?"

"You're talking to the girl who suddenly declared celibacy. This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with my hormones."

She sucked in a breath, eyeing his dripping wet tattooed abs, and his drenched, dirty blonde hair.

As much as Mark could annoy her, Denise could admit, Mark was attractive. However, she had already made a deal that if there was any man she wasn't going to sleep with - it was Mark.

He was the reason she got out of Massachusettes, and she wasn't going to ruin it by sleeping with him.

Any time she mixed sex with a guy, everything turned to ruins.

It would also be easier to succumb to having sex with Mark because she was trapped in a van with him twenty-four seven.

But she made a promise to keep to herself until she got her crap together, and she planned on keeping it.

"Don't worry about me," she told Mark. "I have self-control."

"Since when?"

"Shut up," Denise rolls her eyes. She motions to the food, "you hungry?"

"You order all of this?" Mark picked up a slice of bacon and took a bite.

"No, it was sent to us by none other than the Bonavichs."

Mark's face fell, "you're kidding."

"I'm telling you, Mark, they're swingers, and right now, they're grooming us."

"Stop saying that," Mark found himself tickled at the thought.

"You know I'm right."

"But, you're not."

"Fine, don't believe me? Let's put a wager on it."

"Okay," Mark was game. "What do you want?"

"If I can get one of them to confess they're swingers, I get to drive the van."

"Yeah, no," Mark shook his head, popping a piece of pineapple in his mouth. "Think again."

"I knew you had a strange attachment to that van! Oh my god, what is up with you men and your stupid toys?"

"It's not like that," Mark explained.

"So, you're saying you don't trust me then?"

"Yeah, basically."

Denise scoffed, "what do you think I'm gonna do, steal your van, and leave you in the dust?"

"As soon as I piss you off enough, yeah," Mark grabbed a mug and poured himself some coffee.

"Well, I won't," Denise crossed her arms over her chest. "I mean, it does sound like me. But even if I did, I'd have no choice but to come back and get you. I don't have anywhere else to go or anyone willing to deal with my crazy ass, so."

Mark looks at her, and she raises her eyebrows at him, sweetly saying, "so, what do you say?"

"Alright, fine," Mark gives in. "But if they aren't swingers, then you have to tell me something about yourself."

"Okay," Denise shrugged. "That's nothing."

"And I don't mean your favorite color or your favorite thing to eat. Something deep, something real, that you don't tell most people."

Denise's shoulder fell.

She hated talking about herself, especially her past.

"So, you choose to tell me you went to prison, and now I gotta be vulnerable, too?" she poked her hip out.

"It's only fair, I mean, I might have gone to prison, but you could also be a killer who just didn't get caught."

"Alright," Denise shrugged slightly. "I'll give you that."

"So, you're in?" Mark held out his hand.

"Yeah, but only because you're gonna lose," she shakes his hand.

"We'll see," he picks up the coffee creamer.

"Ooo, coffee sounds good," Denise picks up a mug.

"Uh uh," Mark took the mug away from her. "Last time you had coffee, your farts were so bad, I almost died."

"I told you they were deadly. Plus, when we had those burritos, I'm pretty sure you almost killed our toilet."

"Touche," a smirking Mark gives her the mug.

Just as she was about to pour her some coffee, the phone rang.

"Bet you that's them," she gave him the mug. "Pour me some coffee, will you?"

"More cream than coffee and three sugars?"

"Always," Denise ran into the bedroom and hopped on the bed, grabbing the phone.

"Eva Heard, speaking."

"Eva, hi! It's me, Amanda Bonavich, from yesterday!"

"Oh yeah, Mar - I mean, Aaron, and I have been awaiting your call. Thank you for breakfast."

"Oh, it's no biggie. We were hoping you guys were up for a boat ride today."

"You know what, Amanda?" Denise locks eyes with Mark, who was standing in the doorway with their coffee. She smiles, "a boat ride sounds amazing."