“Antonio!” Stella covered her eyes and tried to peer through the tinted glass. “Come on, it’s time to go!”
Antonio looked to his cousin, knowing she couldn’t see him, and sighed. Why couldn’t he marry a nice girl, like his father had tried to give him? Stella knew plenty of single girls looking for a husband. Why couldn’t she have set him up with one of them instead of a man? He opened the door slightly, trying not to hit Stella’s legs, and she stepped away from the car.
“Come on,” she said. “Everybody’s waiting for you.”
“Sorry,” Antonio said. “I’m nervous.”
“No shit,” Stella said. “Marrying just for a green card has serious legal ramifications if you get caught. I hope you’re ready to make the marriage look real.”
“Thanks for shouting that out.” Antonio shut the car door, slamming it. “I’m not ready. Why did you think setting me up with a gay man was a good idea? Don’t you have any female friends you could’ve set me up with?”
“Hey!” Stella poked him in the shoulder. “You needed a marriage, and quick. You didn’t need a two-year courtship that may or may not have ended with I Do. I did the best I could. If that’s not good enough, and you don’t want to do this, then just leave now.”
Antonio sighed. “And what? Go back to Italy?”
“Italy isn’t a death sentence,” Stella said. “Some people would kill to be able to live there.”
“People that don’t have overbearing family there, you mean.”
Stella laughed and linked her arm with Antonio’s. “That’s true.” She led him to the church doors, pulling him along, until they were inside. She let go of him for a moment to straighten her hair and grab her bouquet of flowers she’d left by the front door. They were white and green. Antonio had a matching green flower in his breast pocket. As he looked between the flowers, he wondered how much his life was about to change. He’d never even met Angelo. Would they be able to get along as friends at least? Or would this man want things from him that he couldn’t give?
A little shudder went through his body but Antonio had no more time to think. A second set of doors in front of him were pulled open, revealing the inside of the church. The pews were almost filled to the brim. Guests stood from their seats and turned to look at Antonio and Stella. Most of the faces he didn’t recognize—old ladies, old men, tough looking young men who seemed to be scowling at him as he walked by. It looked as though Stella had brought some of her own guests to even out the numbers, since most of Antonio’s family didn’t live in America yet. He saw some of Stella’s guests smiling at him from the crowd.
Stella waved at some girls Antonio didn’t know. He assumed them to be part of his aunt’s family. Antonio wanted to meet all the people he was related to by marriage, like his aunt, but the family was simply too big to manage it. And now his family was about to become that much bigger. As he walked down the aisle he looked at all the unfamiliar faces, wondering which ones would stay unknown and which ones would come to be as familiar as Stella’s.
They passed a group of elderly women whispering to each other. “Doesn’t she look lovely?”
“She’s beautiful,” another added.
“A blushing bride, what a wonderful wedding.”
It took Antonio a moment to realize that those women assumed that it was Stella marrying Angelo. He suppressed a laugh. His eyes stared at the altar as his thoughts concentrated on those old women. Would they leave when they saw it was a gay wedding, or would they stay? Antonio couldn’t tell. He placed a silent bet on them leaving with himself.
Waiting for him at the altar were three men. One was Angelo, standing nearest to the aisle. He only knew it was Angelo by the positioning as all of their backs were turned. Angelo looked to be the tallest, and in the middle of the three was the shortest man. All of them had the same shade of dark brown hair and Antonio assumed the three men were siblings, or at the very least related somehow. He stepped up to the altar, feeling butterflies erupt in his stomach, and turned to Stella. He kissed her cheek before she left him, taking her seat in the pew nearest to him.
Antonio steadied his breath and turned to face his husband-to-be. His hair was gelled, styled neatly into low peaks. His eyebrows were bushy and stubble was already trying to push through his clean-shaved skin. Angelo’s eyes glinted in the light shining through the stained glass as he looked Antonio up and down. He looked very masculine and somehow imposing. Antonio gulped as the man appraised him in return, wondering if he should twirl around on the spot. Eventually Angelo nodded and took hold of Antonio’s hand. His skin was warm and rough, but not unpleasant. Together, they turned and faced the priest.
It was at that moment a disgusted tut echoed through the hall. Antonio turned to face behind him and saw the group of elderly women scurrying out of their seats. The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile as they hurried out of the church, speaking in rushed, angry Italian. The sound of their heels clattering against the stone kept the priest waiting. Once the doors had slammed shut behind the group, the priest smiled and started the service.
It was time. Antonio could feel the nervousness rising inside him. They had swapped rings—thick things made of heavy, glinting gold—and the priest was finishing his speech, about to pronounce them husbands. Angelo held both of his hands tight, pulling Antonio around so they were facing each other.
“Now you may kiss,” the priest said.
Angelo smiled, his white teeth peeking out from behind his lips. Then his head was careening toward Antonio, pouting. He had no idea what to expect from it and braced himself for an odd feeling, but that was not what happened. Their lips brushed together only once and then apart again. Angelo’s lips were surprisingly soft, which came as a surprise. It was a short, sweet kiss and not as entirely horrible as Antonio expected.
He couldn’t stop himself from touching his lips with his fingers as they drew away from each other, wondering why they tingled.
Then, the moment was past. Both men shared an awkward laugh as they moved away from each other to turn and face the guests. The whole church had erupted into applause. All of the guests were clapping, some were whooping, and few were dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs. Angelo grabbed hold of Antonio’s left hand and tugged his arm, urging him back down the aisle.
Guests threw white rose petals over them that sprinkled down to catch in their suits and hair as they passed. Stella waved to Antonio, smiling sweetly with nothing but hope in her eyes. She’s a good friend, Antonio thought. I should apologize when I next speak to her. I can stay in America thanks to her.
Eventually they made their way outside the church. A limousine waited for them. Flowers had been woven onto the grille and cans had been tied to the back bumper. Antonio smiled at the merging of the Italian and American cultures, displayed on either end of the limousine, as Angelo rushed to open the passenger door for him. Antonio climbed inside as gracefully as his body would allow and was followed by Angelo, who waved at the guests and blew them kisses through the open door.
Antonio’s heart thudded in his chest as the car door shut. He was alone with his new husband, a man he hadn’t spoken one word to. Once Derrick the driver was turning the key in the ignition, Angelo focused his eyes onto Antonio.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said. His voice was silky smooth and his wide mouth smiled as he spoke.
“You too,” Antonio managed. He hadn’t thought things could get anymore awkward but apparently he had been wrong.
“We’ve organized a reception across town,” Angelo said, as calmly as if he did this all the time. “We’ll eat, drink, and have a chance to get to know each other.”
Antonio nodded as the driver pulled away from the church and began their journey.
“So,” Angelo started. “You needed a green card?”
“Yes,” Antonio said. It was a relief to get this out in the open ahead of time. “My work visa is due to be renewed in a few months and without this marriage I’d be de
ported.”
“Why’s that?”
“I moved here to become an actor,” Antonio said, averting his eyes. “I had mild success in Italy and thought I would rise to fame here. It hasn’t worked so far. I’ve tried to get a job related to acting—theater, behind the scenes, anything—but I haven’t had an acting job since I last renewed my visa.”
“What are you doing for work now?”
“I’m an assistant.”
Angelo nodded before scratching at a patch of skin behind his ear. “Well, you won’t need to work there to earn a living any more. I hope my sister told you that?”
“She did,” Antonio said. “I wanted to talk to you about that. I, uh, I don’t mind working to earn my own money. I just want to be able to stay here.”
Angelo frowned. “Impossible.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You won’t be working,” Angelo said. “It will be… better, for everyone, if you do not work an ordinary job. For acting jobs I’m sure we will be able to work out an agreement that works for us both—as it is your dream, after all, I couldn’t ask you to give that up—but you won’t be working as an assistant any longer.”
Antonio sat forward in his seat, unable to believe what he was hearing. “What about money? How will you support both of us on just one wage?”
“That isn’t a concern of yours,” Angelo said curtly. “Money is no longer an issue in your life, that is all I’m going to say.”
A pit opened up in Antonio’s stomach, threatening to swallow all of his organs. Was he to become a prisoner to this man? “What do you do for work?” The question fell out of his mouth before he knew what he was asking.
Angelo’s only reply was a stern look. Antonio sat back in his seat, suddenly worried. How would one man manage to bring in enough to money to support them both? Two people living in New York city needed two decent wages. Stella had been kind enough to pick up his slack. The boutique had commission, and the clothing there was astronomically priced, which allowed Stella to earn more than enough to pay for his share of the rent, bills, and food. Antonio’s money bought them take-out from time to time, but Stella always insisted he save his money for head shots or acting classes.
Now he found himself married to a man who had paid for their wedding himself. Antonio hadn’t seen the wedding plans so he had no way of knowing what the reception would have cost, but he suspected it wasn’t going to be cheap. Italians knew how to do weddings properly and properly never meant cheap. How much money did Angelo have? And if he was so insanely loaded with cash, why didn’t he ask for a prenup? Especially as part of a fake marriage? Antonio’s head began swimming with questions as they arrived at the reception.
Angelo climbed out of the limousine, holding the door open for Antonio. As he stepped onto the sidewalk, he gazed around at the street. “Are we here?” Antonio asked, confused.
“We’re here,” Angelo smiled and waved his hand at the tall building in the distance.
Antonio’s eyes gazed at the long steps. Hundreds of candles had been placed there, flickering in the gentle breeze. Flowers had been woven together and placed around the candles, curving and twirling up the stairs and along the handrails. On either side of the steps, two lions sat on plinths with wreaths of flowers draped over their manes. The building’s archways loomed ahead, the stone columns standing tall and strong. The doors that lead inside the building were all wide open and Antonio could see shimmering lights inside. Staff in white shirts and blank pants scurried around upon seeing Angelo make his way to the stairs.
When he realized that Antonio wasn’t following, Angelo looked over his shoulder. “What’s wrong, my love?”
Antonio was thrown by his words, but more so where they were. “We’re on 5th Avenue, aren’t we?”
“Yes,” Angelo said. He pointed to the building. “The New York Public Library.”
Antonio felt all the air go out of him. His knees threatened to buckle underneath him. He lurched toward the handrail, his arm outstretched to steady himself and prevent himself from falling to his knees. Dizziness consumed him as Angelo rushed to his side.
“What’s wrong?” Angelo sounded genuinely worried.
Antonio sighed, long and deep. “The New York Public Library...” He shook his head. “This is… too much.”
“The cost?” Angelo asked, frowning as if he didn’t understand what was wrong.
“Not just the cost,” Antonio groaned. “But the building and the planning and the… the… extravagance.”
“This is what is bothering you?” Angelo asked. “If it makes you feel any better, I wanted this venue for the reception. It had nothing to do with impressing you.”
Antonio felt eased slightly, but not enough to calm his beating heart. “Still… This is unbelievable.”
“Yes,” Angelo smiled. “Come inside, it gets better.”
“It gets better?” Antonio heard the screech in his own voice and was surprised. He didn’t know his voice could go that high. He was learning many new, odd things today.
It turned out to be that Angelo was right. Inside was better than outside. Antonio didn’t think it was possible but here was the evidence. Above the entrances, trellises and archways had been erected. They stood tall above them, covered in greenery woven with pink and white flowers. Most were roses, but Antonio thought he spied a peony or two in there as well. They walked underneath the archways to make their way through to the center of the hall where they would soon be dancing. Strings of lanterns and flowers hung down from the domed ceiling, sparkling under purple-pink lights. He walked underneath the canopy, reaching his arms above his head to try and brush his fingertips against the flowers.
Tables covered in shining, silvery material were circled around the dance floor. The chairs tucked under the tables were covered in the same material and had colorful ribbons tied around the backs. Atop the tables were towering, silver candlesticks, gleaming in the dim light from the burning candles they housed. Two large centerpieces of dried flowers arranged like trees were placed on each table, standing high above their heads at least nine feet tall. Smaller flower arrangements had been dotted here and there, pink and white and red in coloration.
Antonio sucked in his breath as he stared at the hall around him, craning his neck this way and that to try and commit everything he saw to memory. A hand touched him gently on the shoulder and Antonio spun on his heels. He was faced with Angelo, who was pleasantly smiling and holding two flutes of champagne. Antonio felt heat rise into his cheeks as he took the flute, wondering how Angelo could have possibly paid for all of this.
Chapter Three
As midnight approached, Antonio and Angelo were piling into a limousine parked outside. They had spent the evening drinking, eating, and dancing. For most of the reception they were separated, mingling with guests, but now they were alone together once more. Angelo relaxed into the leather seat, slouching with his head craned to one side. Antonio watched him from the corner of his eye while trying to think of something to say, wringing his nervous hands.
“That was a wonderful reception,” Antonio said. “Thank you.”
Angelo’s head lulled to the other side, facing him. “It was a good night.”
“It was.”
A different driver was taking them home. The man put the key in the ignition and started the engine. He revved it twice before rolling away from the curb to cruise down the streets. By the time they hit the first red light, the driver pressed a button beside his seat. A petition rose from the plastic partition between the front and back of the car. The glass had a dark tint and it muffled the sounds coming from the engine. Antonio and Angelo were thrown into silence. Lights outside the windows streaked as they passed them by and cars around them rumbled and roared.
“We’ll be at your apartment soon,” Angelo said. “Before we get there I’d like to go over some ground rules.”
Antonio frowned. “Ground rules?”
“Yes.” Angelo sat up in his se
at. “Rules that we both agree on, to make this marriage go smoothly for us.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Antonio said. He felt very wary, wondering if this was where things would start to go south between them. Up until this point, things had been too good to be true and he was waiting for something like this to drop.
“Okay. I’ll start. I think we can both agree that you will now have to move into my apartment.”
Antonio stuttered, choking on his words.
“Hear me out,” Angelo said. “It will make it look realistic to immigration. They are going to want to interview us, to look at where we live to ascertain that this isn’t a sham marriage. If they find out we’re living at two different addresses… Well, that’s a quick way for you to be deported. And when I said there is no need for you to be concerned about money any more, I meant it. You will live in my apartment and I will continue to pay for everything on my own.”
“Won’t that look suspicious?” Antonio asked. “I mean, me marrying you only to suddenly stop working and move into your home. Won’t that make them think twice?”
Angelo shook his head. “Some women do it. Marrying a rich man then quitting your job isn’t such a strange concept. If anything, it will add a layer of reality to it. You saw that I was doing well for myself and decided you wanted a piece.”
Antonio nodded, realizing Angelo might be right. “How many bedrooms does your apartment have?”
Angelo smiled. “I have three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Don’t worry, you don’t have to sleep in my bed with me. I will have one of the spare bedrooms prepared for you. However, we will have to have all of your things in my bedroom.”
“To make it look real,” Antonio agreed. “Do you think they’ll send someone to your home?”
“Oh, I have no doubt about it. What we’re doing is illegal. The government don’t take too kindly to people like us.”
“Like us?” Antonio asked.
Omega Wanted: Bad Boy Mpreg Romance Page 12