“I’m pretty sure she’ll partake on her wedding day,” he says, scrolling through the photos of the winery.
“It says the next available date isn’t until November,” I point out.
“And?”
“And we want to get married sooner than that,” I tell him, my attention going back to my screen.
“Want? Orneed?” he asks.
“You know the circumstances, Andy. You also understand the scenario. It needs to be flashy, yes. Convincing for sure. But it has to be soon. Golden Rule wants all the bids in by the end ofthe quarter, which is right around the corner. I need a venue with immediate dates available.”
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks.
“What do you mean?” I ask, my eyes still on the screen as I click on a link for beachside weddings. “I want my inheritance. Ineedit. The fact that he hasn’t already given it to me already is just a power move on his part. It’s not his money. It’s my money, and it always has been, since birth. Hell, it should have been mine when I came of age. But it’s been padlocked all because I’ve never fallen in love.”
“I meant the shotgun wedding,” he says. “Don’t you want it to be more, I don’t know, meaningful than that?”
“We aren’t chicks, Andy. I haven’t been clipping pictures for inspiration out of wedding magazines for my vision board for the past thirty years. An expedited wedding was all part of the agreement,” I tell him.
“If you say so. It just feels more complicated than a simple agreement now,” he says, and I close my laptop.
“How so?” I ask and he closes his too.
“Come on, Dom. I’m your best friend. Practically your brother. Lying to me is pointless. You love this girl.”
“I mean, have I developed feelings for her? Yes,” I tell him. He’s right, and I can’t hide it anymore. Not since I put the ring on her finger and she started crying. And certainly not since last night.
“Jesus fucking Christ, you are one stubborn son of a bitch. Fine. Don’t admit it. But at the end of the day, onyour wedding day,I think you are going to regret some things if you keep pretending this is all a charade. You can lie to me all you want. Hell, you canlie to yourself too if it makes you happy at the end of the day. Live in denial, for all I care. I’ve seen you with Mila, I’ve seen the way you look at each other, and I know there’s more there, even if you are unwilling to admit it. I’ve known you for a long time, and I’ve never seen you walk out on a high-stakes match with Rafe, for any reason, much less just to bang her. If you keep lying to her and yourself about the way you feel, it’s going to get messy and you’re going to regret it. We both know girls like Mila are once in a lifetime. And no offence, old man, but your lifetime is running out of years.”
I glare at him. For his audacity and his gall, but mostly for how right he is. He hit the nail on the head so hard it pierces through my barricade and straight into my chest.
I lean back in my chair, cross my arms, and with a scowl and a hard sigh, I say, “Fine,” I say. “You’re right.”
“About which part?” he asks.
“Fucking all of it,” I admit angrily. “This is…not how it should be done.”
“Are you going to do it anyway?” he asks, and I throw my hands up. “I don’t know what other choice I have, and we are already in so deep.”
Andrew nods a couple of times, sucking his lip in thought. “Honestly, brother, if I were you, I’d just quietly elope. Don’t make a fuss of it. Go to the courthouse, get what you need and hand it to your father in exchange for what he’s promised you.”
I snort an angry chuckle. “That’s even less romantic than Sonoma,” I tell him.
“Yeah, but considering the fact that this whole thing started as a contractual agreement, I don’t think romance is the way to go. If anything, making it a dream wedding would only twist the knife harder. Even though you pretty much just admitted you’re actually in love with her. You two agreed to get married for money and convenience, and now that feelings are involved…”
“Right,” I nod, rubbing the nape of my neck. “So, what do I do?”
Andrew leans in on the table and looks at me with intention. “You do it fast and efficiently, like I said. Get what you need, jump through the hoops, no fuss.”
“That’s going to look suspicious to my dad,” I argue.
“Doesn’t matter. You already have his blessing. After a visit to the courthouse, you’ll have him backed into a legal corner too,” he repeats. “Then, when it’s all said and done, you give her what she really wants.”
“Which is?” I ask.
“YOU, you idiot!” he blurts out, gaining the attention of the people at several tables around us.
“And if I don’t want to just stand in front of a judge on a random Thursday?” I ask.
