Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol)

by Fiona Cole

  “Let me see the earrings.”

  “I had no idea he’d be so hot.”

  “Fuck me, those are perfect. Totally vintage. Nova, you’d even like these.”

  “Oh shit. Those are totally vintage.”

  “Can I have him? If you don’t want him, can I have him? Just to fuck a time or two?”

  I laughed at the barrage of questions. “You guys. Stop. Remember, we don’t like him. He was demeaning to me and still kind of is.”

  Both of them fell back, pouting like I’d taken their favorite toy.

  “You could always have hate sex. So hot. Trust me. I’ve fucked a lot of people I hate.”

  “Stop,” Nova exclaimed, covering her ears.

  “Oh, Naughty Nova went back into hiding,” Raelynn joked. “But seriously, have you hit that again?”

  “No. And I don’t want to.”

  “Okay…” Nova said mockingly.

  “I don’t.”

  Raelynn shrugged. “Fine then. If you’re not sleeping with him, you won’t mind if I do.”

  “No,” I almost shouted.

  Her smirk let me know I’d been had, but I refused to let her think it was anything beyond following rules.

  “It’s in our contract that we aren’t going to be with other people.”

  “Contract? Oooo, like Fifty Shades of Grey?” Nova asked with too much excitement.

  “No. It’s more like a prenup.”

  “Well, I suggest you take full advantage of your five years and hop on that every chance you get.”

  I opened my mouth to deny I wanted to, but it didn’t come out. Maybe I could live in denial by myself, but I’d never been very good at lying to my friends.

  “Let’s eat before Raelynn eats you, Nova,” I said, avoiding commenting.

  “Hey, maybe Nico can come back and eat Vera.” Rae waggled her brows, and we all laughed.

  Thankfully, she was too focused on the food to see how much the thought of Nico kneeling at my feet affected me.

  It didn’t matter, though.

  All that mattered was getting out of marrying Camden, making it through five years, and not giving in to a man whore who acted like a prick.

  Sometimes.

  He acted like a prick sometimes.

  More and more, he acted like my future husband, and it kind of scared the shit out of me.

  What if I believed in those moments more than the dickish ones, and at the end of five years, wanted more?

  Seventeen

  Nico

  The picture hadn’t done her justice.

  She strolled in, the mid-day sun illuminating her in that white outfit. It was like a foreshadowing of what it would be like when she walked down the aisle, and a feeling like no other washed over me.

  A mixture of warmth, electricity, and a shudder of desire worked its way down my spine, pulling my skin too tight.

  She looked like the perfect bride-to-be, flanked by her two friends. She clutched her small bag, looking around, appearing both shy and excited all at once, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was an act or if maybe part of her was at least a little excited to celebrate becoming my wife.

  Another wave of emotion moved through me, more intense and harder than the last, bringing a wave of questions after it. My skin grew even tighter, and I struggled to mentally shake myself back to reality.

  I had a goal, and she was a means to an end. It didn’t matter if she was excited. It didn’t matter if she liked the idea or not. She served a purpose.

  Despite my best efforts to push off anything but indifference at her presence, I stood a little taller. My basic caveman instincts roared, making me want to beat my chest, throw her over my shoulder and claim her as mine when she shifted her head too quickly, making the sparkling diamonds against her dainty ear sway.

  Mine. Mine. Mine.

  Seeing the jewelry I picked out for her filled me with pride. Even more so when she brushed stray strands of hair back from her cheek, and my ring shone brightly.

  She was mine.

  Her father approached, and she stiffened. He nodded to her friends, and with a hand to her elbow, pulled Vera off to the side.

  It was time to claim my fiancée.

  The conversation appeared calm and pleasant between father and daughter, but as I got closer, I saw the clenched jaw and tight hold he had on her arm.

  “Hear me out, Verana. I talked with Camden, and he was extraordinarily remorseful of the way he acted. He had a stressful week and took it out on you. We all did, and it wasn’t fair.”

  My blood ran cold at his cajoling tone. Did she hear how fake it was? Did she believe him? What if she did? I wanted to close the gap between us, stop anymore lies spewing from Lorenzo, but my feet held me glued to the spot, wondering how Vera would react.

  “Fair doesn’t begin to cover it,” she said.

  “I know, and that’s why I wanted to talk to you. I looked into the position you’re holding at Rush, and it’s shameful. No Mariano should be working at such an entry-level position. I—I want to offer you a job at Mariano.”

  “What?” Vera asked, shocked just as much as me at the offer.

  “Yes,” he went on, excitement over dangling a winning carrot in front of her speeding up his words. “A project manager. You’d be at the family company, just like you wanted.”

  I held my breath waiting for her answer, more than half expecting her to say yes to what she always wanted.

  “And Camden?”

  “Verana,” he almost pleaded. His jaw ticked, and he dragged a hand over his mouth. “You can have time—time for Camden to prove he’s not who he acted like. But our traditions…”

  “Are more important than me,” she finished for him.

  “No, Verana. You’re my daughter. You’re important.”

  I could only see her profile, but the sleek lines of her back straightened, flexing when she pulled her shoulders back. “No.”

  “Wh-What? No? To what?”

  “To all of it,” she answered coldly.

  “But I’m offering what you want,” he said. “You’re my daughter—my family.”

  “Exactly. But you’re still not hearing me, Papa,” she said softly.

  “Mia bambina, I am hearing you. I’m giving you what you want.”

  “At a cost.” Lorenzo remained silent. “Tell me, who would organize the galas?”

  “Well, you,” he explained like it was an honor. “You’re the project manager. You’re skilled enough to handle them.”

  “And what about when I start a family?”

  “Verana,” he said with a nervous laugh. “Stop being so stubborn. I don’t even recognize you.”

  “And I don’t recognize you either.” Her tone rang with strength and underlying hurt. “Maybe this is who we’ve always been.”

  “No. We raised you better. We raised a woman who held pride in her family. This needs to stop, Verana.” His words lacked control, dripping with desperation. He needed her to give in. But would she?

  “Thank you, but no thank you for the offer,” she finally answered. “I’m sticking with my position at Rush Shipping. They have great potential, and I’m excited to expand with them—with Nico. He’s a good man who will be a good husband.”

  A knot I hadn’t known had tied itself around my lungs loosened.

  She turned him down.

  Not only did she turn him down, but she stood up for me in the process. I blinked, trying to process the influx of information—of feelings. It squeezed inside my chest, uncomfortably and foreign.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should find my fiancé.”

  “Vera, it’s time you stopped your tantrum and call this charade off,” her father softly spoke between a forced smile, the façade fading away.

  “I assure you, Mr. Mariano, our engagement is not a charade,” I said, finally stepping in.

  His smile slipped, but the professional man he was refused to allow him to show his true emotions at such a pu
blic event.

  I slipped my hand around Vera’s hip, extracting her from his grip, and tugged her to my side. Taking full advantage of the situation, I pressed my lips to her soft cheek and grazed my fingertips along her bare back.

  She gasped, and a shiver down her spine chased my touch.

  “You look breathtaking,” I said softly for her, but loud enough her father could hear. “I can only imagine how beautiful you’ll look on our wedding day.”

  Red tinged her cheeks, and I fought against leaning in again to press my lips to the heat.

  “Thank you.”

  “Mr. Rush,” her father greeted stiffly.

  “I’ll be your son-in-law soon. Please, call me Nicholas.”

  “Well, Nicholas, was there a reason my daughter had to walk in alone? As her fiancé, shouldn’t you escort her?”

  “Papa,” Vera reprimanded.

  Lorenzo was fishing in an empty barrel for reasons to find me lacking. “It’s okay, Vera. I can see your father thinks you need a man to enter a room, but he doesn’t seem to realize that you are strong enough to stand on your own. You don’t need me. But I’m lucky you’ll have me.”

  All my compliments were true, despite never having said them before. However, I said them easily with the benefit of annoying Lorenzo and winning Vera over more and more.

  His nostrils flared at the slight, and for the first time since she entered the room, she looked to me. With wide, brown eyes, she looked at me like a mirage. As if she’d never had someone tell her she was strong enough all on her own. Curiosity and awe flickered in the depths, along with something more—something deeper I couldn’t quite decipher.

  Whatever it was, it had me standing taller beside her. She matched my posture, and together, we created a united front against Lorenzo.

  Victory surged—a win I hadn’t planned on gaining. One I hadn’t even considered. I had no doubt that at some point, I would take Mariano Shipping out from under Lorenzo’s feet, but to also take his daughter? That was a prize I didn’t even think to play for.

  A prize that fell into my lap, and I took without thought.

  “Verana,” Lorenzo growled. “This—”

  “Lorenzo,” another guest greeted jovially. He approached with his hand out, a warm smile in place, completely oblivious to the tension brewing. “It’s good to see you again and at such a happy occasion.”

  Lorenzo shook his hand, shifting his mood to the winning businessman he was believed to be. “Andrew, it’s good to see you. And yes, such a happy event.”

  “Nicholas,” Andrew greeted. “Thank you for the invite. It’s always good to get out and see everyone outside of typical business. Laura sends her best but is home with the newborn.”

  “Of course. I hope she can make it to the wedding.”

  “Oh, definitely. She let me know I could stay home with the baby if we didn’t find a sitter.” He laughed and turned to Vera, clear affection in his eyes. “Verana, I can’t believe you’re getting married. I can still remember you running around at the galas, sneaking cake.”

  She laughed at the shared memory. “I think I recall you stealing some with me.”

  “I was a young pup, fresh from college. Cake helped ease the nerves.”

  Jealousy pierced my chest.

  Those should have been my memories. These should have been my acquaintances. I should have grown up among the elite in shipping at charity galas. Instead, it had been snatched from my family before we had the chance.

  “I’m happy for you. Nicholas is a good man, but probably not good enough for you,” he joked, nudging me with his elbow.

  Despite not having grown up with everyone, I’d made a name for myself in the past few years. I’d carved my way back in, and this time, I planned to cut Lorenzo out.

  “Definitely not good enough for her.”

  I wrapped my fingers around her waist, settling on the curve of her hip, pulling her close to my side. With everyone’s eyes on us, she couldn’t pull back, and I had every intention of touching her every chance I could get.

  “I should mingle,” Lorenzo muttered. “Andrew, it was good to see you again.” He gave Vera and me a curt nod and turned to go, snagging a glass of champagne on his way.

  “I guess I should leave you two to greet everyone and follow Lorenzo’s cue. Even when it isn’t business, it’s still business.”

  “It always is,” Vera agreed with a rueful smile.

  Andrew hugged Vera and shook my hand with another congratulations, leaving us alone.

  However, as soon as he left, her two friends took his place.

  “So, how was daddy dearest?” Raelynn asked.

  “He was fine,” Vera answered.

  “You’re so full of shit, but I’ll allow it.”

  “Ladies,” I greeted.

  “Hello, Nicholas,” Raelynn greeted. Nova smiled softly.

  The three women made a hell of a triad. Raelynn, the bold one who probably got them in the most trouble. Nova, the quiet one who followed along, picking up any messes so they wouldn’t get caught. And then Vera, the one somewhere in between. Prim and polite but hiding a side that got set free when Raelynn was around.

  “This place is beautiful. I can’t believe you’re living here,” Nova said.

  “Lucky bitch,” Raelynn added. “It’s always so hard to find good real estate around Central Park. And one with event spaces available? A needle in a haystack.”

  “I haven’t moved in yet.”

  “Why not?” Raelynn asked, looking me up and down with a raised brow. I felt like a piece of meat being sized up for a meal.

  Vera laughed uncomfortably but managed to glare at the same time. Nova shoved Raelynn with her elbow, and the three had a silent argument before Raelynn rolled her eyes, deciding to drop the question.

  “So, Nicholas. Are you going to take care of our girl?”

  Vera and Raelynn turned wide eyes to Nova, who looked like a prudish mother deciding if I was good enough for her precious child.

  “As much as she will allow me to.”

  Nova’s lips tightened as if holding back a laugh. “Good.”

  “But the real question is…”

  Vera’s eyes widened, swiveling to Raelynn, and I braced myself for whatever would come from the bold woman’s mouth.

  “Will you fuck her well?”

  “Jesus. Stop,” Vera whisper-yelled, looking around to see who else might have heard.

  I met Raelynn’s challenging stare, answering her honestly. All while issuing my own challenge to Vera. “As much as she will allow me to.”

  Raelynn’s slow smile confirmed she knew the truth about our situation, and no doubt, knew more than I did about Vera’s stubbornness keeping her from enjoying all the benefits of our marriage.

  “Good.”

  “Well, now that that is out of the way,” Vera said, exasperated with the two of us.

  Nova emptied her champagne. “Yes. I don’t know about you, but I could use another glass.” She linked her arm with a still-smirking Raelynn. “We’ll leave you to greet everyone.”

  Vera pressed her fingers to the center of her forehead. “Sorry about that,” she murmured.

  “Don’t be. I like her.”

  Questioning eyes snapped to mine, concern marring her features. “Oh, well, most men do.”

  How she could assume I preferred Raelynn over her, I had no idea, but I shut it down before it could begin. “Not like that. She’s entertaining to listen to. But I do like your concern I’d want anyone other than you,” I gloated.

  “I’m not.” She stood taller and tried to brush away her unfiltered reaction.

  “Hmm.” I slowly backed her to a private corner. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Why would I care who you like and don’t like? It’s not like we like each other?”

  “You don’t like me? I’m hurt.”

  “Yeah, right,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

  “You seemed to like me once.”


  “I didn’t know it was you.” Her sassy response was ruined by her stumbling when her back hit the wall.

  I stepped into her space, resting my hand on her hip, stretching my thumb to graze low on her hipbone. “I could remind you. No masks. Face-to-face. Your legs wrapped around me.”

  I gave her points for thrusting her chin up and arching an arrogant brow, but her heaving chest and heavy swallow gave her away. Her tongue slicking across her lush lips as her eyes flicked to mine.

  “No,” she whispered, trying to lie. But desire swirled in the depths of her brown eyes like melted gold.

  I shifted my hand to her ribs. “You really do look stunning.”

  Another swallow. “Thank you.”

  “It takes all I have not to have you right here in this corner. All this white, all this purity when I know different, I love it. Like our little secret, how dirty you like to be.” Leaning down, I grazed my nose to hers, breathing in her quick exhalations. “Or are you only dirty for me?”

  Her parted lips begged me to kiss her, to take and take and take. Wanting to prolong the moment, wanting to see if I could hear the plea for more fall from her lips, I held back. Instead, lifting my hand higher to smooth over her breast. My thumb swiped back and forth, bringing the hard tip to life, pinching the tender bud.

  “You’ll be my wife soon enough. Why not just give in? Sweeten the deal of our bargain.”

  And just like that, the woman melting in my arms stiffened. A firm hand landed against my chest, shoving me back easily.

  “I may be agreeing to marry you, but that’s it. I’m not selling my body like a prostitute. Besides, you couldn’t afford me. I’m not like all the other women you only had to snap your fingers at to make them jump. Unfortunately for you, I’m more work than that.”

  She stormed past, even having the audacity to clip me with her shoulder. A single laugh slipped free, a little turned on by her defiance. More than a little turned on with the way she almost caved under my touch. She may not want to admit how much she wanted me, but soon enough, we’d live under the same roof, and she’d have nowhere to run.

  I snagged a glass of champagne and left the room, giving my future bride a reprieve. I’d only gone a few feet when voices had me slowing to a stop out of view.