The dot.com priest married us in the wine cellar at 8:17AM…two hours before I was supposed to walk down the aisle to Preston Astor in front of five international cameras, a Pope and twenty three local news stations.
The priest name was Rico. He was a small man with a mustache and a passion for chugging wine for breakfast. His breath stunk like something really bad, possibly a fish or a raccoon died in his stomach.
He stood on top of a crate of my father's '82 Bordeaux and talked for a few minutes about how much he loved wine and every five seconds, he likened it to Carson's and I nonexistent love story.
Maybe trusting our dishwasher's drunk cousin to officiate the wedding wasn't really a good call but so is hiring a stranger to be my husband...so, here we go.
"Love, ah… love is like a fine Cabernet!" he declares, sweat running down his brow. "Bold! Complex! Occasionally giving you heartburn!"
I tuned him out. It was just easier. He wasn't making much sense anyway.
My hand trembled in Carson's hand. He sensed it because he squeezed it reassuringly, his palm rough against my manicured skin.
I've changed into a server's black button-down shirt, the fabric scratching my thighs but it was better than the bottoms and wet baggy T-shirt that reeked of Preston's aftershave. I shut my eyes tightly.
This isn't happening. This is a plot twist from one of my novels. Wake up. Wake up!
"You know, it's not too late to change your mind," Carson's voice jolted me out of my head. "If we give Rico here enough wine, he will wake up tomorrow morning and think this is just a bad dream"
His thumb brushed my knuckles and the world snapped back into focus.
"I am not a mannequin, you know" I told him.
"I know, you are not" He nodded.
"And I am quite capable of moaning, Carson Gibbs, I'm good at it. I perfected the craft but there's so much fake moaning a woman can give before it becomes tedious…work" My face twisted in anger as I tried to explain myself to my soon to be husband.
"You don't have to explain yourself to—"
"You have no idea how much work it really takes. I have to constantly remind myself to pretend to like it. To say things like 'give it to me baby' or 'go deeper'"
I grabbed Carson's hand and pulled him closer to me, my irritation increasing ten fold.
"Deeper doesn't mean Faster, Preston! Faster just annoys me because now, not only did I not orgasm, I have to listen to your laborious breathing in my ear for two minutes it usually takes you to finish!"
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves and get myself to calm down.
"Are you alright?" Carson asked when I became too quiet for too long.
"I'm just saying, I can moan. I just stopped. It became too much work but it didn't mean he had to fuck his cousin. This is not my fault, right? Sure I'm bad at sex but come on! She is his cousin!"
I looked to Carson Gibbs to say something. He didn't at first. He didn't make a move to take off his face mask either. And I didn't urge him to. Maybe I needed him to remain faceless…it made everything easier.
But then he made me face him and he rubbed my shoulder briefly.
"Take a deep breath, Ms. Emilia. All these stress can't be good for you"
"I will pay you 100 bucks to tell me that Preston Astor is wrong! And a 100 more every time you take my side, Carson Gibbs!"
"I am on your side, Ms. Emilia"
My eyes glittered with pain and unshed tears. Carson looking at me like I was something he needed to hug wasn't helping matter. I hated being pitied.
But I took a deep breath anyway.
"I just caught my future husband fucking his cousin in the bathroom near the reception. And when I told my grandmother, she said suck it up because the pope and the media can't wait for a Vanderbilt to marry an Astor…he was fucking his Cousin, Carson Gibbs. Can we both agree that this is not the Spartacus movie and it's…wrong. Right?"
"Yes. It is"
"Thank you!" I screamed startling Rico "Sorry" I murmured to Rico, so he could continue his rant and I could go back to talking about how weird it was that I caught Preston and Clara together with my future husband whom I just met twenty minutes ago.
Rico clears his throat. "Vows?"
Carson looks at me. "Last warning, Ms Emilia?" He told me.
"I can't marry Preston." I lean in to whisper
"Who wants to go first?" Rico asked.
"Vows anybody. I am getting hungry"
"Give us a minute, Rico. Here, drink more wine" Carson, pressed a bottle of my father's Campari into his hand before turning his attention to me.
"Ms. Emilia…"
"She's going to make me marry him, I know it" I told him. "She's going to make me wear that ridiculously tight wedding dress and stand at that altar, and pledge my life to a man who…" I couldn't find the words.
"...who fucks his cousin?" Carson Gibbs volunteered.
"Yes. That!" I said and almost poked his chest in relief at having found the words. "The only justification she would have is that I am a Vanderbilt and I can't have…" I couldn't bring myself to talk about my baby. "Grandmother insists on a wedding today. Well, I am giving her one. So, man up, Carson Gibbs, and say your fucking vows to drunk Rico, here"
"Are you sure, Emilia? Life with me isn't... I am not..." His voice faded away.
"Don't you dare back out on me! Don't you dare! Do I need to remind you that you are just as desperate as I am. You need me!" I said through my gritted teeth.