by Holly Rayner
He chuckles. “I suppose that’s something.”
I write down my phone number on the back of one of Luciano’s business cards and hand it back to him. He gives me another card to keep, just in case I need to contact him. We exchange one more hug, and I hang on a little longer than I should, memorizing his strength, his solidness, the way I can’t seem to hold on to fear or anxiety or shame when he’s around.
I don’t want to go home and start beating myself up about everything that’s happened. I have to remember how it felt to stand here with Luciano.
The town car pulls up and I get in. Luciano gives instructions to the driver and steps back onto the curb. I press my nose to the window, watching him as we drive away. He grows smaller and smaller and eventually disappears from view.
I’ll see him again. We’re going to the car show together. And eventually, we’ll have to see each other to get that annulment. I reach into my pocket and run my thumb along the edge of his business card, reminding myself that I have the power to reach out to him at any time. All I need is a decent excuse to do so.
A decent excuse…
I don’t have a date for Sandy’s wedding. The idea appears fully formed in my head, as if it were a problem I had been trying to solve all day. Sandy is getting married this weekend, and although I was invited to bring a plus-one, I haven’t found anyone I’d like to take with me. After all, I’m in the wedding party, which means any date of mine would have to sit around making small talk with my girlfriends’ dates while I posed for pictures and helped Sandy get ready. I wouldn’t be able to hold his hand all the time. My friends’ partners all know each other, but anyone I introduced to the group would be new. It makes it so much harder.
But what about Luciano? He’s proven he can handle stressful situations, and I know he has social graces if he’s able to sell cars. I could bring him to the wedding as my plus-one!
Instantly, my chest seems to expand at the prospect of seeing him again so soon, of introducing him to all my friends, of dancing all night…
No.
As soon as the fantasy starts to take off, I know it’s one I can’t pursue. No matter how much I like Luciano, he isn’t going to be a permanent person in my life. I can’t bring him to Sandy’s wedding, a very important occasion, and insist that everyone get to know him. I can’t expect him to come all the way to Riverside in five days for a party. The whole idea is inappropriate. As sad as it makes me to realize it, there’s no real situation in which it would be a good idea for me to contact Luciano. I’m going to have to leave the ball in his court.
I ride the elevator up to the penthouse alone this time. The place is quiet and seems haunted by the good times we had last night. It’s bigger without Luciano’s presence, and colder somehow. I’m uncomfortable being here. I grab my suitcase and head back down to the waiting town car.
It’s only a few blocks’ ride back to the hotel where the girls and I stayed for the weekend. I remember checking in and thinking this place looked opulent and exciting. Now, it looks like ritzy trash—fake and obnoxious. I have to pass through the lobby to reach the parking garage and the sounds from the casino floor make me nauseous.
It’s a relief to step out into the relatively fresh air of the parking garage, and even more so to climb into my quiet, familiar sedan. I turn the key in the ignition, knowing that three hours from now, I’ll be home at last.
Chapter 18
Dani
Saturday dawns bright and sunny, the weather warm but not hot. In other words, it’s a perfect day for a wedding. The girls and I have been paying attention to the weather forecast all week, watching for updates, crossing our fingers against rain or high wind, and we’re in luck. Even the lighting is perfect, as if the sun knew that we would be taking pictures today and decided to cooperate.
It’s not even my wedding, and yet from the moment I get out of bed, I have a feeling of fluttering excitement in my stomach. The day seems charmed, magical, as if something wonderful is about to happen.
It seems strange that the last time I saw Sandy and the rest of the girls was during that debauched weekend in Las Vegas. The tone of this gathering is going to be so different that it’s almost hard to believe it’s the same group of people. I feel as if I’ve grown up ten years in the intervening week.
For a moment, my mind flashes to Luciano, and I wonder what he’s doing today. He won’t even be aware of the fact that today is Sandy’s wedding day, I realize. As big and serious an event as this is for me and my friends, it’s not even on his radar. My husband’s radar.
I wonder if he’s thinking about me at all today, or if he’s just completely put me out of his mind. I realize that he never told me what he was going to do next in pursuit of that annulment. I do believe him that he’s going to try and work it out, but I have no idea how long I should be expecting that to take.
Is it strange that I haven’t heard from him yet? Or is this normal? Maybe I shouldn’t expect a call for another six months. I should have asked. I should have gotten a clearer picture of what to expect before I just took off. It will seem strange, needy, if I call him now, looking for these answers. After all, it hasn’t even been a week…
I force thoughts of Luciano out of my mind. Today is about Sandy.
I dress in a tracksuit and throw my hair up in a messy bun, and I grab my bridesmaid dress and makeup bag. The other girls are already in Palm Springs with Sandy, since I’m the only one who lives close enough to make driving down on the morning of the wedding a realistic option. That means the rest of them are probably already getting their hair and makeup done. No big deal—by the time I get there, I won’t have to wait.
I brush my teeth, splash some water on my face, and grab a bagel. It’s an hour’s drive to Palm Springs and I want to get there as early as possible so I don’t miss any of the big day.
The drive goes by quickly. I follow the GPS directions to Sandy’s address. I’ve never been to this house before—she and Ian bought it a few months after they got engaged. It’s a cute little split-level with a fenced-in yard and a few tidy bushes lining the windows.
The first part of the day is so tightly scheduled that it feels like we barely have time to greet each other, and even as a glass of champagne is being handed to me, I’m guided into a hair stylist's chair. All the other girls are finished except Melanie, who’s talking a mile a minute. I’m grateful that I’m not required to say much, and I relax, sip my champagne, and enjoy the feeling of the stylist working on my hair.
From there, I’m turned over to Sandy’s mother, who is serving as the makeup artist for the day. She refills my champagne, telling me how lovely I look and how sweet it is that all us girls made this journey to be with Sandy on her big day.
The ceremony is held in the backyard. Sandy’s older brother, Garrett, is the presiding minister and he does a great job, sharing gently humorous stories about Sandy and Ian and coaxing mild laughter from the assembled group.
“Did he get ordained online?” I ask, leaning over to Liz.
“No, he did it for real,” Liz whispers back.
“He’s actually a minister now? That’s nuts.” I haven’t interacted with Garrett since college. He was a few years behind us, and during his senior year of high school, he came up to visit her. At the time, he was interested in partying and attending football games. It’s strange to think of that eighteen-year-old kid who pestered us to buy him beer officiating a marriage. I guess people really do change.
Sandy and Ian have written their own vows, which is exactly the sort of sweet, corny thing they would do. They read them aloud from index cards, managing to seem very genuine in spite of their obvious preparation. Sandy even tears up. Beside me, Rhonda is crying unabashedly, even though we’re standing up in front of everybody. I hope she’s not pulling too much attention away from Sandy.
As Sandy and Ian exchange rings, and then join hands and kiss, a strange feeling comes over me. This isn’t the first wedding I’ve been t
o, of course, but it’s the first one that’s made me feel so self-reflective. After all, technically, I’m married now.
I wonder if my own wedding was anything like this. I’m sure it wasn’t as emotionally weighty, but there were probably some nice moments. Did Luciano and I kiss at the end? I can’t believe it, but this is the first time the question is occurring to me. Have I kissed Luciano? I find myself hoping, to my very great surprise, that I haven’t—not because I don’t want to kiss him, but because I do. And I want to remember it. I want to remember the first time.
The ceremony ends just as the sun is setting. Someone plugs in strings of Christmas tree lights, and we bridesmaids gather the chairs that were arranged for the guests and move them to the patio. The groomsmen bring out panels of wood and arrange a makeshift dance floor on the fake grass lawn. Ian’s cousin, who is serving as the DJ, sets up and starts playing music, and Sandy and Ian take to the floor for their first dance as a married couple. It’s lovely.
“So,” Rhonda says, snagging my arm and pulling me into the group of bridesmaids once the first dance is over and the floor has filled with gently swaying couples.
“So…?” I ask innocently, looking around at them. Every face is watching me expectantly.
“So, tell us what happened in Vegas!” Rhonda says. “You disappeared on Saturday night. We were worried about you. And then Sandy said we were just supposed to leave without waiting for you.”
“I mean, I’m fine,” I say. “As you can see.”
“Sandy said something about handcuffs,” Molly says pointedly.
“That was a mistake.”
“What was?” Melanie asks. “Did Sandy get it wrong, or are you saying that ending up in handcuffs was a mistake?”
“Well…the second one.”
“So, how did you end up in handcuffs?” Molly asks.
I sigh. “You’re not going to drop this, are you?”
“We’re most definitely not,” Rhonda says.
I’m going to have to tell them. They’ll find out eventually, anyway.
“I got married,” I admit.
“You got what?” Melanie screeches, just as the song ends.
Overhearing us from her spot on the dance floor, Sandy pairs Ian up with her mom before hurrying over to our group. “What’s going on? You sound like a pack of wolves over here.”
“Did you know Dani got married?” Liz demands.
Sandy whirls on me. “You did what? To who?!”
I sigh. “Remember that guy I kept running into in Vegas? Luciano?”
“Oh my God. Your Latin lover!” Molly squeals.
“Not my lover.”
I tell them the whole story, including the part about trying and failing to get the marriage annulled. By the time I’m finished, everyone is staring at me like I’ve grown a second head.
Sandy gasps. “Dani! The fortune teller!”
“The what?”
Melanie grabs her sister’s arm. “That’s right! Oh my God, I’d forgotten about that!”
“What are you talking about?” Liz asks.
“Remember when we went to the fortune teller in Vegas?” Sandy is practically giddy, bouncing on her toes. “She told Dani that she was about to find true love. Remember, Dani? And that night, Dani and Luciano got married! It’s fate!”
“It’s not fate, Sandy.” I roll my eyes. “Come on. He was drunk and I was on painkillers, and we made a stupid mistake. And besides, we’re not in love. Like I said, we’re getting an annulment as soon as we can.”
“You didn’t get one yet though, did you?” Sandy grins as if that proves something. “Seems to me like you’re reluctant to get out of the marriage. I think you looooove him.”
“Sandy. I told you why we didn’t get the annulment. We’re still planning to, as soon as we can figure out how to get around the Attorney General. It’s nothing but an inconvenience.”
I feel a twinge of guilt even as I’m saying the words. Even though everything I’m telling Sandy and the rest of our friends is technically true, Sandy is absolutely right about me having mixed feelings. I am reluctant to get out of the marriage. On some level, I like having this thing that ties Luciano and me together.
Ian returns and pulls Sandy back out to the dance floor. She goes willingly, laughing giddily, and moments later, the two of them are in each other’s arms again.
The rest of us break up the conversation for a moment and turn to watch. They’re so sweet and so clearly enamored with each other that it’s hard to look away. Thoughts of Luciano and my complicated situation evaporate as I watch my friend in her new husband’s arms. I couldn’t be happier for her.
“I’ll go get us some more drinks,” Rhonda says, and tugs on Molly’s arm. “Help me carry, will you?”
“Get me a vodka soda?” I ask.
“You got it. Liz? Anything?”
“Whiskey, neat.”
“Seriously? We’re at a party, not a poetry reading.” Rhonda rolls her eyes. “Whatever you want.”
Liz turns to me. “Listen, Dani, are you sure an annulment is what you want?”
“Oh, not you too, Liz,” I say. “I’m not in love with Luciano. We got married when we were blacked out. I’m not going to stay married to him. That would be crazy.”
“I’m not suggesting you stay married,” Liz says. “I’m saying…well, didn’t you say he lived in a nice penthouse?”
“Yeah.”
“And he owns some fancy car dealership?”
“A few of them, yeah.”
“If you get the marriage annulled, you won’t be entitled to any of those assets,” Liz says. “I know it’s not an appealing idea, necessarily, but you should think about taking him to divorce court instead. If you did that, you could walk away with a sizeable settlement.”
“You think I should go after his money?” I ask, surprised at the suggestion.
“Listen, I know you won’t like the idea,” Liz says. “I’m just saying, think about it logically for a minute. He does bear more responsibility for the situation than you do, according to everything you’ve told me. You were inadvertently drugged, whereas he willingly drank to excess. And you did cooperate and try to get the union annulled, only to discover that an annulment wasn’t possible, thanks to his actions.”
“It’s not really his fault,” I say, feeling suddenly anxious. I need to make Liz see that this isn’t all Luciano’s fault. The Attorney General is being completely unreasonable.
“I’m not saying it is,” Liz says, accepting the drink Rhonda hands her. “I’m just saying he was irresponsible, and it’s not ridiculous to think that he should pay a price for that. And, you know, Dani, a little money from a guy like that could make a big difference for you. You could add that second pit at the body shop that you’ve been talking about ever since you took over from your dad.”
“What are we talking about?” Rhonda asks. She has a shot in each hand and knocks them back rapidly.
“Whether Dani should refuse to annul her marriage to this guy and make him divorce her instead,” Liz says. “That way, she could get a financial settlement.”
Rhonda raises her eyebrows. “That’s pretty coldhearted.”
“I’m not going to do it,” I say. “There’s no way, Liz. What happened was just as much my responsibility as it was Luciano’s, and I’m definitely not going to take advantage of the situation to try to take his money.”
“You can’t look at it like that,” Liz says. “This is what happens when a marriage ends. The assets are divided.”
“But that’s so shady! We weren’t even really married—we’ve only spent one day together! He’s going to think I did it on purpose just to get to his money.”
Rhonda gives me a funny look. “But you don’t care what he thinks, right? You don’t care about him. It was just a mistake.”
“Well…I don’t want him to think I’m a gold digger, for God’s sake. And I don’t want to take his money either. He’s been nothing but nice
to me, you guys. I want to resolve this respectfully. I don’t want a big ordeal.”
Liz shrugs. “If that’s what you think is best. I just wanted to make sure you’d considered all your options.”
“Well I’ve considered them,” I tell her firmly. “And I don’t want Luciano’s money.”
Liz nods and wanders off toward the bar for a refill. Rhonda is still watching me, appraising me.
“What?” I ask her.
“Nothing,” she says. “It’s just interesting, that’s all.”
“What’s interesting?”
“You’re still married to him. You’re worried about his opinion of you…”
“I’m not in love with him, Rhonda, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“I’m not saying you’re in love.” She shrugs. “I’m just saying there’s something there.”
And as thoughts of Luciano fill my mind, I have to admit that Rhonda is right. I miss him. I wish he was here with me tonight. And I’m dreading the day when the legal tie between us is severed and I’ll have no guarantee of ever seeing him again.
Chapter 19
Luciano
It feels like I’ve been on the phone for three days straight. I’ve been sequestered in my home office, making every phone call I can think of to resolve the annulment situation, but it’s as if Hobbs is always one step ahead of me. I can’t believe he’s this devoted to making the process so difficult for me.
After all, in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t even that big a deal. It’s such a minor issue for him to hang me up on. It’s not like I’m going to lose any massive amount of money, or my house. The only things I’m losing here are time and patience.
But maybe that’s how he justifies it to himself. Maybe Hobbs is only willing to mess with me in ways that don’t have long-standing repercussions. That feels right. He doesn’t want to ruin my life; he just wants to be a perpetual thorn in my side.