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She chose a simple dress with a shawl that covered her shoulders, as well as a short veil that complemented her curly hair well. As for the makeup, she did it herself. Some mascara, lip gloss, and maybe a bit of foundation.
She doesn’t need makeup. She’s naturally beautiful, and I’m not afraid to remind her of that. There’s a nervousness to her movements that I can’t ignore, and it lingers with her all the way to our first dinner as a married couple.
It’s at a Michelin-starred Chinese place by a celebrity chef, in honor of Vivienne’s favorite cuisine.
“Order whatever you want,” I announce to both Vivienne and Marcus. “It’s all on me.”
“This year of Roederer is incredible, I’ve heard,” Marcus says, his gaze fluttering between me and Vivienne. “You can’t put a price on good champagne.”
“Apparently you can.” Vivienne looks down at the wine list skittishly. “Here, it’s five hundred dollars.”
“Get two if you want,” I say. “Go wild.”
“I’ll remind you of that when the bill comes, my friend.”
Vivienne furrows her brow slightly as she gazes at the menu. Reaching over, I place my hand over hers and give her a gentle squeeze. She meets my eyes and offers a small smile. I get the distinct impression that she’s nervous.
I can’t blame her. Everything moved so fast between us, but it was the right thing to do, not just for me but for her, too. Besides, I couldn’t risk the chance of her developing cold feet and abandoning the plan.
“Vivienne!”
It’s Sarah, her cousin, dressed in a sparkly blue dress and striding into the restaurant herself with unflappable confidence. I notice the way Marcus is staring at her as she approaches the table. I’ve seen that look before. He’s intrigued.
“May I speak to the bride in private?” Sarah asks.
“She’s your family, right? I’m no one to hold her back,” I say without missing a beat.
“I believe she’s your family, too, now.”
“You have a point, my dear cousin. But go, my beautiful bride.” I let go of Vivienne’s hand and gesture for her to follow her cousin. “We’ll put in our orders when you ladies come back.”
Sarah and Vivienne speak privately off to the side. Meanwhile, Marcus lets out a low whistle.
“She’s cute.”
“My bride or the cousin?”
“Your bride is beautiful, but she’s not the one I’m interested in.”
“Good answer.”
Sarah and Vivienne return to the table just as the waiter comes to take our order. We don’t hold back at all. My bride deserves the best, after all.
Marcus has somehow turned into a comedian with Sarah around, spurred on by the alcohol. Eventually, the two of them start having their own conversation while I focus on Vivienne.
“How are you feeling?” I ask gently, trailing my thumb along her knuckles. “Is everything alright?”
“Mm-hmm. Everything’s wonderful.”
“You’ve hardly touched your garlic fish and eggplant.” I eye her plate. “Do you want to send it back? Is it not up to your standards?”
She swats at my arm playfully. “It’s perfect. I’m not too hungry, that’s all.”
“What if you get hungry again back at the hotel?”
“They have food there, I’m sure.”
‘There’ is the palatial presidential suite at The Venetian, with a private game room, private spa, private workout room, and luxurious, sumptuous furnishings, including the room’s true centerpiece, the bed.
