“Oh, come on. I know that he stayed with you. I know that something happened.”
Chanda blushed. “It was nice,” she finally said.
“That’s it? It was nice? I’m so disappointed in you, Chanda! You need to tell me details. What is an American man like?”
Chanda sighed. “He was…gentle. He held me like he was afraid to lose me. And when I whimpered with the pain, he stroked my hair and kissed me to make me feel better.”
“You mean that you were a virgin?” Yun seemed shocked. “I guess I knew that you were, but I am still surprised! You never tried sex before with a boy from school?”
“Never,” Chanda swore. “He was my first lover.”
“It hurt you badly?”
“Not very badly. It was more pleasurable than anything.” Chanda took a last longing look at herself in the mirror. It wasn’t her own face that she longed for, but the beauty that Chris made her feel. “He made me feel beautiful. And loved.”
“Aw.” Yun stared at her for a few minutes, before turning to do her own makeup. “I want that. I want a rich man to swoop into my life and make love to me and take me away.”
“It will happen, Yun,” Chanda promised her.
The two young women emerged from Yun’s room looking like supermodels. Their dresses and eyelids sparkled brilliantly in the light from the naked hall bulb. Yun’s father watched them uncomfortably from his usual seat, a book propped on his knees. While Yun and Chanda were both in their early twenties, only now did he see that they were grown women, heading out into a life of love and marriage. “You look like goddesses,” Yun’s mother purred. She was half-asleep with the radio on in the seat across from Yun’s father.
“It is my bachelorette party,” Chanda beamed.
“Oh? Well, have fun.”
They headed out into the night and caught a taxi that took them to the clubbing district. From the street, they could hear laughter and hip-hop or rock music spilling out of the clubs. Clutching their purses, they spotted some girls from school down the street. “Over here!” Yun screamed.
The girls thronged around Chanda, embracing her and offering her little gifts as congratulations on her impending wedding. They picked at her dress and earrings, amazed at how well Chanda was dressed. “I am so happy for you!” a girl named Akara cried out joyfully.
Chanda beamed. “You girls are so sweet!” she exclaimed. “The girls at the factory are all very jealous of me. They have been so mean the past few months! I have had to stop wearing new clothes and jewelry to the factory just to make them stop harassing me. Now they think my new boyfriend dumped me.”
“How did your boss like it when you quit?” one of the girls asked with a huge grin. She happened to be cousins with the boss and had gotten Chanda the job.
“He yelled at me that I was making a big mistake.” Chanda looked down at her sparkly heels. “It was horrible, but I won’t miss him or the factory. I was supposed to get a promotion, too, but they never gave it to me! I suppose because they knew I would be leaving.”
“Well, now you’re onto a better life. Of course we would be overjoyed for you,” Yun said, placing a comforting hand on Chanda’s back.
“Let’s go,” Akara said, indicating a hip-hop club with a long line.
“Let’s try to get in like in the movies!” Yun suggested. She led the group to the bouncer at the top of the line and posed prettily. “It is our dear friend’s bachelorette party. Would you please, please let us in?”
The bouncer stared at the dazzling six girls in front of him. He had never seen such pretty, hopeful, excited girls in his life. With a small smile, he lifted the cord, letting the girls into the club.
Chanda was immediately enveloped in the high energy of the club. They ran to the bar to order drinks and pose for selfies. Yun kept posting them on Instagram, tagging all of the girls with the caption, “Chanda’s bachelorette party!” Chanda sent some of the pictures to Chris.
“Wow! My beautiful bride,” he kept texting her, sending her rows of hearts and grinning faces. He also sent a picture of a man fainting from an arrow to the heart. For a cowboy, she was impressed at how generous he was with emojis and how open his heart was to her.
“Let’s dance,” Yun suggested. They waded out to the dance floor and began to dance together. Several men tried to dance with them, but they would refuse them with giggles. “You only have eyes for one man!” Yun declared, pulling Chanda close and jumping to the rhythm of the music with her.
Chanda had never felt so happy. As the night progressed and she became drunker, she realized how much she loved her friends and her cousin. Perhaps she had missed out by working so much and taking care of her dying father and neglecting her friends. But now that she was about to leave, she realized how much she would miss them.
When they finally took a taxi home, she hugged each of her friends before they stumbled out of the vehicle, giggling and happily drunk. “I will keep in touch,” she promised each of them.
“You better!” they all told her.
Finally they arrived at Yun’s house. Even though Chanda was spending the night there, she stopped for a moment in the back of the cab to hug her cousin. “Life is not going to be the same without you,” she sniffled tearfully.
“You can’t turn back now, Chanda. You know that this is what you want,” Yun replied, wrapping her warm arms tight around Chanda. “I am going to miss you, but I’m happy for you. This is the dream for all of us.”
They fell asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. In the morning, they went out to get Chanda’s nails done and to try to soak the dye and calluses out of her tough hands in the warm manicure oil. As the nail technicians painted their nails, they chatted about school and growing up together as best friends. But they didn’t discuss how Chanda was leaving in a week. They just wanted to enjoy their last days together.
Chapter 12
Chris stood at the terminal clutching a bouquet of flowers. The scent of the flowers added to his dizziness. He had flown into LA to meet Chanda. As people began to deplane, he craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of his bride. And then there she was, radiant and gorgeous, her hair streaming behind her and her dress fluttering around her ankles. Her forehead was wrinkled with stress and she seemed to struggle with the burden of her many bags.
“Let me help you,” a man offered.
She smiled politely but firmly shook her head no. Then she saw Chris, and her grin grew huge. “Chris!” she cried, running toward him full-speed. She dropped her bags around her. They collided together like two meteors and held each other for a long time.
Finally, they parted. Chris stared down at her. “Is this day really here?” he asked.
She just smiled up at him, unbelievably overjoyed. “I have waited so long. This love has blossomed so quickly yet we have had to wait so long.”
“Well, are you ready? We need to go to the rental car agency so that we can get to Vegas.”
“Las Vegas is so pretty in the movies,” she said dreamily. “I am very tired, Chris.”
“Would you like to wait?” Chris was disappointed, but he reminded himself that he had ninety days left to marry Chanda. She was here and that was what mattered.
She nodded and offered him a wan smile. “I need to stretch my legs. I have been sitting for nearly a whole day. I slept on the flight, but I am just so exhausted.” The dark bruised-looking bags under her eyes gave away her exhaustion.
Chris took her to one of the fanciest hotels in LA. She kept dozing off in the car and seemed disoriented as Chris led her up to the room. “Sleep,” he told her kindly when he opened the door.
She collapsed on the bed. The bellhop put away their bags and Chris tipped him handsomely. Then he removed his shirt and joined Chanda on the bed. Even though she was like a zombie from her jetlag, she turned into him and straddled him. “I’m so glad to be here,” she slurred, her eyes heavy.
“You should sleep,” Chris laughed. It was amazing how
cute she was.
“I want to make love to you first,” she told him.
Chanda slept for nearly a day. By late afternoon, she finally was able to get up, even though she complained of feeling as though she had a severe hangover.
“Here,” Chris said. “I ordered calamari and some aspirin and orange juice.” He drew the room service cart over to the bed. “There’s champagne, too, for mimosas.”
She beamed as she stretched. He leaned over to kiss her swan-like neck. “What are these?” she wrinkled her nose, picking at the rings of fried squid.
Chris dipped one in the pot of marinara sauce and fed it to her. Her eyes widened at the deliciousness. “Yummy.”
“They’re good, right? I am going to show you so many new foods.”
The food and drinks seemed to revive her. “I am ready to go to Las Vegas,” she told him excitedly. “But I need to buy a wedding dress.”
The drive there was more fun than Chris imagined. He played her a mix tape he had made back in high school. It was the same mix that he and Jake used to play when they made trips down to Laredo. The desert streaks by and Chanda stared, mesmerized by the great open expanses of land. “It is all…dirt,” she said with a hint of forlornness.
Chris felt a jolt of panic run through him, turning him cold. “Is it OK with you?” He was terrified that perhaps she would be unhappy here. “My ranch looks nothing like this,” he added.
She simply nodded to confirm that she had heard him. She was too lost in the desert views to reply. Sometimes she would drum her fingers on her legs, which she had propped on the dash of the car.
The brown desert gave away to the lights of Vegas just as the sun began to set and the city began to wake up. Now Chanda gripped Chris’s hand and gasped in shock at the lights and colors of the casinos. As they slowly cruised down the strip, her jaw hung open.
“I have never been here, either,” Chris said. “It’s awe-inspiring, isn’t it?”
He took her to a dress shop. Though it was evening, they were able to find one that was still open. Chanda looked at the dresses, oohing and ahing. Chris watched her, amused by her sweetness and wonder.
“Can I help you?” a saleswoman in a prim beige suit asked.
“I want to look like a princess for my wedding,” Chanda told her.
The saleswoman pretended to find Chanda’s request charming. But her smile faded when Chris told her, “We need it now.”
“This is not a place where you can just pick up a dress for a fly-by-night wedding with a stranger you met a few hours ago,” she snapped. “We must do multiple fittings. It takes a lot of time.”
Chanda faltered, clearly saddened.
Chris pulled out his wallet and showed the woman the thick stack of hundreds inside. “I will pay any price. Just find something beautiful that fits my wife, at least closely,” he said.
The woman’s hardness slipped and a warm smile took its place. “Well then. Come back to the fitting room with me, darling.” She linked her arm in Chanda’s and led her to the back.
Chanda emerged from the fitting room an hour later, wearing a huge wedding dress coated in lace and beads. She really did look like a princess. Chris paid and they dashed to the car holding hands, Chanda still in her dress and some white satin heels that the saleswoman had suggested. The heels fit poorly and Chanda could barely run in them.
The wedding chapel enchanted Chanda. It melted Chris’s heart to see her swelling with excitement. He found a man loitering in the front and offered him ten grand to be their witness. They signed their wedding certificate, then kissed long and hard. At last, they were married. Chris had never imagined that any woman would marry him, after the luck he had had in recent years.
They spent the night drinking and gambling to celebrate their wedding. Early in the morning, they took a flight back to Houston, where Chris’s private plane waited. He flew them back to the ranch as the sun rose, blushing the sky peach and gold.
“Oh, Chris,” Chanda breathed out. “This is so…”
“There are no words,” Chris finished when she couldn’t. “So let’s just enjoy it.”
Chanda smiled at him, then snuggled into her seat. She was still in her wedding dress and the beads reflected the fire of the sunrise. And as Chris stole glances at her when he could take his eyes from the instruments, he found that she looked very blissful and serene. She was content, and he was overjoyed. But he also felt calm. It was because this was his proper fate, what he had always wanted, what was meant to be.
Chapter 13
“Good morning, my love,” Chris cooed, waking Chanda up by holding a plate of chocolate waffles with whipped cream under her nose. Her eyes widened as she sat up and gathered the sheets around her slender naked form.
“What is this?” she gasped.
“I had Rita make us breakfast.” Chris set the plate on the bedside table. “So I have a plan for us today. The first thing I want to do with my beautiful new bride is take her out horseback riding. Are you ready?”
Chanda emitted a giddy giggle. “Oh, horses. Oh, yes, I am ready.”
“Good.” He clasped her face in his hands and tenderly kissed her. “I have an outfit ready for you. I even had boots monogrammed with your name. So eat and then we’ll go to the barn and get started. I have the perfect mare for you to ride. She’s very gentle.”
Chanda squealed like a little girl. She then began to pick at the waffles. “Are the waffles good?” Chris asked, concerned that she didn’t like Rita’s cooking,
“They are very sweet,” she admitted.
“Ah, yes. I forget that our food is very rich for you. Is there something else that I can get you?”
“No, they are good. Very good. I am just too excited to eat,” she giggled. “You know how long I have been waiting for this day.”
“You married the right man,” he commented.
“Yes! I married the best man that I could find,” Chanda grinned at him.
Chris sat for a minute, his chest swelling with happiness. Chanda ceased eating altogether when she noticed how he was staring at her. “What?” she finally asked. The expression on his face was unreadable.
“I just adore you. I’m so glad I found you,” he said softly. There was a wetness in his voice, an undercurrent of strong emotion. “I was so lonely until I found you.”
She managed a smile. “I like how open you American men are,” she finally said.
Chris stood up. “Well, would you like to see the outfit I bought you?”
“Yes!”
He led her to the automatic rotating closet. With the press of a button, the clothes began to swim by in their neat rows. He paused it when the closet reached the section of Chanda’s clothes. “Look,” he said, pulling down a pink plaid Western shirt and a pair of pressed jeans. “And these,” he added, producing a pair of pink cowgirl boots covered in rhinestones and with her initials monogrammed on the sides in red.
“Oh!” Chanda gasped. Never before had she owned clothes that were so expensive or high-quality. Her factory had manufactured such jeans, and she had never dreamed of owning a pair. Her clothes before were always cheap and usually hand-me-downs or reconstructed from the old clothes of other people. Having her own beautiful new set of expensive clothes brought tears to her eyes.
“Are you crying?” Chris was taken aback. “What’s wrong?”
“I am just ashamed. I have never had such clothes,” she finally admitted.
“I just ordered them from Boot Barn. They are not that special,” he said shyly. In reality, they were incredibly expensive custom-made clothes.
“Well, thank you.” She shot him a mysterious look before scurrying into the bathroom to change.
He took a few photos of her when she emerged, calling her his cowgirl. She giggled and twirled around, striking hilarious poses. “I feel so American!” she cried.
Chris thought how she was very far from any American that he knew, but he didn’t tell her that. “You are very A
merican,” he said instead.
She grinned and linked her arm within his, absolutely glowing with joy. “So now show me your horses,” she said with exhilaration in her tone.
The barn loomed over Chanda’s small figure as Chris unlocked the gate and led her inside. A horse softly nickered and Chris led her to the stall door. “This is Miss Peanut,” he introduced her to the sleek chestnut mare standing inside. “Say hi to her. Put your hand out like this.” He guided her hand through the gate and Miss Peanut nuzzled it curiously.
“Her nose is so soft!” Chanda cried.
“Like velvet, isn’t it?” Chris agreed. “Miss Peanut is a former prize-winning show horse. Now she spends her retirement years peacefully grazing in the pastures, and occasionally being ridden. She’s very gentle and well-trained. She doesn’t need to be reined very hard because she seems to intuitively know what you want her to do. She’s a great horse.”
There was the sound of a shovel dragging across the concrete. Chanda turned and froze when she saw a young man with brown hair and wide brown eyes, standing there with a mucking shovel and staring at her.
“Ah, Johnny, I want you to meet someone.” Chris waved John over. “This is Chanda.”
“Hi,” John muttered, averting his eyes.
“Be a gentleman and shake her hand,” Chris said firmly. He was surprised by how awkward John was. Now that he thought about it, he had never seen John with anyone and had never heard John talk about a girlfriend. Maybe he had no skills with women? “I’m about to take Chanda riding. Would you mind haltering Miss Peanut and Dark Knight?”
John hastily shook Chanda’s hand while still avoiding eye contact with her, then he returned to the tack room to get the halters. As he haltered the horses and led them to the grooming room, he kept his head down. Chris showed Chanda how to brush Miss Peanut down, then started grooming his own horse, the enormous Dark Knight.
“He’s so big!” Chanda gaped.
John slipped up next to Chris. “She’s beautiful,” he whispered.
“Thank you,” Chris pretended to be stern, but John’s compliment filled him with pride. It had been so long since he had a beautiful woman on his arm and never before had his hands seen him with anyone. “You better stay away from her,” he added, just to establish his dominance.
Single Dad’s Plaything: A Single Dad First Time Billionaire Romance Page 25