“We’re trying to assess your sexual compatibility,” the hippy lady said.
“Maybe,” I admitted. “I’m not going to say no.”
“So open to anal,” Priyanka clarified. “Both you and her?”
“Jesus.”
* * *
I was reelingafter the question session.
“I feel like I just escaped the gulag,” I complained to Eric and Josh, who had been waiting for me in the next room and laughing hysterically as they watched the replays of my interview.
“When she asked you if you would be okay if your wife dressed you up in a dog costume and walked you around, and you were like, ‘If she’s hot!’” Josh collapsed in laughter.
“I think that lady was just fucking with me,” I complained. “I don’t need a supermodel. I just need someone who’s not going to try to trap me with a pregnancy or steal all my money.”
“But the dog costume is cool?”
“Speaking of costume.” Eric wiped the tears out of his eyes. “We need to find you a wedding suit.”
“I’ll just wear one of my tuxes,” I said.
“Dude.” Josh put a hand on each of my shoulders. “We jest, but really, you need to set the tone from day one. We don’t know which of the women you’re going to get paired with. I was reading through the files, and some of them seem like real pieces of work. You want to make sure she has no illusions that this is going to be one of those crappy dime-store romance novels. She’s not a princess, and you’re not her prince.”
“I mean, obviously she won’t…”
“Poor, naive little Chris.” Eric patted me on the head. “Once this bride realizes she’s fake married to a billionaire, she’s going to do everything in her power to try to make you fall in love with her for real.”
“Fuck.” My skin went cold. “I’ll resist her.”
“Will you?” Josh raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have the best track record. Remember what happened with Addison. You barely dodged that bullet.”
“No, you need to make sure she knows from day one at the altar that you are too much for her to handle and she better run back home to Daddy as soon as the wedding is over,” Eric insisted.
“I can’t believe you roped me into this!”
“And I feel terrible!” Eric said cheerfully. “But this is why we came here to help. Because we care.”
“You came here to laugh.”
“And help. We have a five-point plan,” Josh said, waving a piece of paper around. “And number one is to show up at your fake wedding looking like a lunatic.”
* * *
The thrift storewas packed for a Tuesday.
Eric and Josh rummaged around the racks of clothes while I mentally tried to prepare myself for the next six weeks. The Svenssons were right. The bride, whoever she was, was totally going to come after me for my money. I mean, what kind of lunatic even signed up for a show where she was married at first sight? She was obviously mentally deranged.
“Okay, try this on.” Eric handed me a moth-eaten kilt that smelled like wet dog, and a tartan wrap that had seen better days.
“You can pull a suit jacket on over this getup,” Josh said.
“My suits are custom-made from the finest wool. I am not putting them anywhere near that.” I gestured to the moth-eaten clothes in his hands. “In fact, I don’t even want those in my penthouse.”
“We’ll leave them in the parking garage.”
“Here’s a jacket.” Josh handed it to me. “Now go try it on.”
