“Your friend Elsie better have scotch, the good kind.”
“I’m surprised you’re not drunk off the fumes coming off of your clothes. You couldn’t have bothered to shower before our wedding?” she snapped as we headed to the open bar, fielding congratulations from the reception-goers.
“I lost track of time in the club—there was the super-hot brunette there. Actually, come to think of it, she reminded me of you.”
Grace huffed as she accepted a tall pink cocktail garnished with mint from the bartender.
“I stumbled out, and it was like ten in the morning. You’re lucky I’m even here at all.”
She shook her head as I ordered a scotch.
The reality was that Eric, Josh, and my father had had me spooked. I didn’t want a repeat of Addison, and I definitely didn’t want to end up in a situation like my father had with my mother.
After stumbling out of the club, I had spent the morning drinking and pacing in my apartment while poring over the contract instead of showering, sleeping, or sobering up.
I had been planning on just fleeing the country and letting the chips fall where they may, but the contract had been pretty explicit about bank-account-ruining lawsuits.
I had been sloshed by the time I stumbled up to the altar, sure that I was going to be saddled with some gold digger. But then I had turned and seen Grace and had felt nothing but sweet relief. All things considered, it wasn’t a bad deal—she had passed my test after all.
Maybe she’ll even fall in love with you…
No. No love. This was business, or rather, debt repayment.
I looked around, suddenly missing her presence. Grace was en route to a corner of the room. Drink in hand, I loped to catch up with her.
“Go away,” she said as I leaned against the wall next to her. She had a drink in one hand and a plate of party snacks in another and was nibbling them off the side of the plate.
“I could feed you those.”
“Do not touch my food,” she warned.
“But you’re my wife,” I reminded her.
“It’s fake!” she hissed as we surveyed the crowd. She turned her head to try to eat a fried shrimp off the plate.
I watched in bemusement. “I’m a bit offended you’re more interested in the shrimp than your husband.”
“The shrimp don’t owe me a bar tab and Uber money,” she retorted.
“Grace!” I said, indignant, pressing a hand to my chest. “You said you were treating me!”
“And you said you were broke and forgot your wallet.” She took a long sip of her drink. “I can’t believe I was going to sleep with you!”
“I knew you were attracted to me,” I said smugly.
“Yeah, except you blew it by being a sociopath.”
“Hm,” I said thoughtfully, “I suppose I need to change things up so that I sleep with the girl first. Duly noted for next time.”
“Creep.”
“Can you two come to the dance floor?” Gunnar asked, black headset on.
“I’m eating,” Grace growled, slurping some freshly made pasta off of her plate.
My stomach growled, and I stole a crab claw from Grace’s stash. She tried to swipe at me with the hand that held the drink but spilled some on the dress. She swore.
I helpfully took the plate of snacks and her drink while she fumbled to try to blot the pink stain on the silk.
“Damn this is good pasta,” I said as I finished off the rest of her snacks.
“And,” I continued, draining the rest of the glass, “I take back what I said about girly drinks. This is pretty tasty!”
“That was mine!”
“We’re married. That means sharing.”
“It absolutely does not!” she sputtered.
“The dance floor…” Gunnar begged.
I wrapped an arm around Grace’s waist, leading her to the middle of the room. The other three couples were already there, swaying in that awkward, off-beat way people who were not forced to take ballroom dancing lessons as a child did.
“Surely you of all people know some good wedding dances,” I whispered to Grace, who stood stiffly as the other couples swayed around us. The brides gazed up adoringly at their husbands. Grace adjusted her glasses.
Gunnar pointed to the cameras and made begging motions.
I put one hand around Grace’s waist and took her other hand.
“You ever see the movie Beauty and the Beast?”
“Yeah,” she said suspiciously.
“Here we go!”
I stepped into a waltz. However, Grace was not wearing a floor-length ballroom dress. I turned us into a spin, and her legs were immediately tangled around the train of the dress. She stumbled and fell,