She could sit on her worries for a few days and just relax at the convention and have fun.
Hopefully. The convention brought concerns of its own. Taylor had told Sigmund—clingy, clingy, unbalanced Sigmund—that her roommate playing Brunhilde was a girl. That was the nice thing about the Internet—you could lie. But there were going to be several guild-mates of hers at the convention, and if she ran into any of them with Loch at her side, there would be questions. The convention was enormous, though, and she planned on being in costume for most of it, so hopefully no one would recognize her. If they did, well, she’d just have to come up with a suitable excuse. Maybe Loch could be a friend’s brother and they were spending time together. Or she could just go with the whole he’s my boss and I’m his assistant thing.
That would work.
Pleased, she took another swig of her margarita. With a drink in hand, a hot temporary boyfriend snoozing nearby, and a gaming convention to go to? This was setting up to be an awesome weekend.
For once, Sigmund’s constant texts didn’t even bother her.
***
“This room is really amazing,” Taylor gushed as she set her suitcase on the hotel room bed and opened it. “I mean, I wasn’t sure if anything could beat the rock waterfall you had in your room back in New York, but the private swimming pool out on the ledge here just might do it. Too bad I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“Mmm, who said you needed a swimsuit?” He smiled lazily at her, hands behind his head as he lounged on the other end of the bed. He was feeling pretty pleased with himself at the moment. He’d managed to score tickets to the convention, had arranged a private jet that Taylor had exclaimed over, and now had set them up in this rather nice hotel room, all on his own. Sure he’d made a few calls to the right people and used his name, and even greased a few palms, but he’d done it himself. It was a small victory. Best of all, Taylor was happy. He’d fixed her job issue, taken her on vacation, and ensured that she’d be spending more time with him. It would be just a small step to propose marriage, and he doubted she’d say no.
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” She gave him a saucy little smirk as she re-folded one of her shirts. “Truth of the matter is, I don’t know how much time we’ll have to spend in the room anyhow. The convention’s got so much to do and see. I haven’t been in two years, but if it’s anything like before, there will be beta-test rooms, character battles, costume contests, a vendor alley, some behind-the-scenes panels, and a few about some upcoming game info that everyone’s always peeing in their pants to hear about.”
None of it sounded particularly interesting to him, but if she was excited, it would be fun. An enthusiastic Taylor was one of his favorite things in the world, he’d decided. “So which ones do you want to go to?”
“I haven’t had time to look, to be honest.” She bit her lip and then pulled out a small notepad and began to flip through the pages. “I was busy making lists of things I can help you with! Like driving a car, or taking the subway by yourself, or balancing a checkbook, or cooking—I’m actually not that bad at cooking despite my love for cereal—and understanding personal finances, or maybe—”
“All that can wait a few days. Let’s just enjoy the convention, shall we?”
“Oh, I plan on it.” She beamed at him. “My old costume still fits.”
“Costume?” This wasn’t the first he’d heard about costumes . . . but he hoped it didn’t apply to him. She’d gone back to her apartment to pick up a few things, but he hadn’t realized they were costumes. Loch frowned at her. “I’m not going to wear a costume.”
“Only about half of the people that attend go in costume, but I think it makes it more fun.” She pulled out something from her bag that looked like a scarf. “Here’s mine.”
All right, now she had his attention. His cock stiffened in response and he sat up, curious. “Is that like your Doctor Who scarf?”
She giggled and spread it out on the bed. “No, it’s a dress. This scarf part goes around the neck and then over each breast, and the skirt is kind of a sash around the hips. There’s a cape, too, but I have to iron it.”
It was a lot more skin-revealing than anything he’d seen Taylor wear before. She normally was in jeans and a T-shirt, and while he liked that, he was rather intrigued by the flimsiness of this costume. “You wear this out and about in the convention?”
Her brows drew together. “Of course. It’s Talia Undura from the game. I’ve got her hood and everything.”
Loch vaguely remembered a hooded woman in the splash screens of the game, but all he recalled about her was bright red lips and lots of breasts. Was that who she was going to dress up as? He shifted uncomfortably, his cock making it known that he liked the idea, even if—rather hypocritically—he wasn’t sure she should wear something so revealing out in the crowd. “How do you get the sash bits to stay in place over the”—he paused and gestured—“chest area?”
“Double-sided tape!” She hung the costume—little more than gossamer wisps—on a hanger and then turned back to him. “Oh, and if anyone recognizes us and asks, you’re my boss.”
“What?”
“There’s some of my guild-mates that are going to be here, and a few folks that are in an Alliance with us on Excelsior. That means they raid with us for some of the bigger targets. Anyhow, they’ll be here and if they recognize me, they’ll ask about you. Just tell them that you’re my boss and we’re here because you’re learning about the game.” Her smile was sunny.