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“But look how happy he is,” I point out, and she smiles.
Once everyone is seated, Alberto leads me to the front of the decked area. He then orders Michael to stand at the end of his makeshift altar with Piper. Ella approaches me. “Tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” she hisses.
“Aww, come on, sis. You said you like Piper.”
“You can’t trick someone into marrying you,” she snaps.
“Sit down, Ella. This is important, and it’s going to happen. You step one foot out of line and I’ll have you removed.” My warning is low and firm, and she knows I won’t stand for any nonsense.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this. Why can’t you just be normal and date, then ask her properly?”
“Because I want it now.”
Ella shakes her head, her expression full of disappointment. “You never could wait for anything.” She marches back to her seat, slumping down with her arms folded across her chest like a stropping teenager.
Alberto makes his way back to the front. Once he’s in place, he presses play on his iPod and some classical music begins to play softly in the background. He gives Michael a nod, and Piper hooks her arm into his. They slowly walk down the centre. Piper giggles most of the way, and when she reaches me, Michael places a kiss on her cheek and steps away. “This is like a real wedding,” she whispers, wobbling on unsteady feet.
Alberto begins the ceremony, pausing a few times to make it look like he’s forgotten his lines. Piper occasionally tells him how fantastic he’s doing, even though he’s speaking in Italian and she doesn’t understand a word he’s saying. He asks if anyone knows of any lawful reason why we should not be married. I give Ella a warning glance, breathing a sigh of relief when Alberto moves on. “Ora ti pronuncio marito e moglie.” He smiles, and everyone claps. “I pronounce you husband and wife,” he translates for Piper. “You may kiss,” he adds.
I swoop in for a kiss, tilting her back and making a show of it. She laughs and hits me playfully on the chest.
She kisses Alberto on the cheek. “You did very well, Alberto. You’ll do fine tomorrow.” He pats her hand and nods. When she looks away, he indicates that I should follow him.
We go to my office with Michael, and Alberto opens the register and signs his name. I sign my own and Piper’s, and Michael signs as the witness. Alberto then writes out the marriage certificate, and once it’s all done, I hand him a thick envelope of cash. He shakes my hand gratefully and goes to collect his brothers so they can leave.
Chapter Thirteen
PIPER
Rolling onto my back, I groan, covering my eyes with my arm. The light is too bright, and my head is pounding. My mouth is so dry that my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.
I try to sit up, but that only makes my head hurt more, so I flop back onto my pillow. The door opens and Anton enters. He holds out a glass of water, and I take it gratefully. “Those cocktails seemed like a good idea at the time,” I groan, sitting to gulp the water. “Tell me Ella is suffering too.”
“She’s used to the strength of the drinks here. Plus, she didn’t play shot games.”
I groan again. “Oh god, I forgot about that.”
“We fly home this evening. Get some food and water. You’ll be fine in no time.”
It’s almost midnight when we land in London. I slept on the plane, so my hangover has finally disappeared. We make the hour drive towards home and as Michael turns on Anton’s road, I turn to him and say, “Actually, I thought I could go home.”
“It’s late. I’ll take you tomorrow.” Anton’s expression tells me there’s no point arguing, his decision is final.
I turn on my mobile and it beeps immediately, indicating I have messages. The first is from Mae, telling me she misses me and can’t wait to see me. I scroll to the next, which is from Hulk.
Hulk: I miss you. I hate not being able to come to your room in the middle of the night so you can fuck my nightmares away.
I roll my eyes and shake my head in irritation. The only thing he misses is his booty call.
“Who’s texted you?” asks Anton.
“Mae and Hulk,” I say.
Anton reaches over, plucking my mobile from my hands. I protest, but he ignores me, flicking through the messages and narrowing his eyes when he reads the one from Hulk. “He was drunk,” I explain. “It happens when he’s drunk.”
“Now you’re gonna defend him?”
“I’m just saying that he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s had too much to drink.”
