Chapter 13
The first thing Matteo and I need to do when we get back from the roller rink is go down to lunch and duck out of the afternoon’s gambling so that we can go shopping.
We meet the others at the designated booth in a snack café and pray that everyone is too tired from roller skating to kick up a fuss.
I do feel a bit guilty but if we confessed to the fake wedding now, they’d all want to hijack the shopping trip, especially as it’s for my wedding dress.
Matteo and I have decided we must keep it a secret a little longer.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I say in a croaky voice. ‘I think the extreme air conditioning in here is making my throat dry. I’m going to see if I can get something from the chemist. Maybe get some fresh air. I’ll meet you back here for the show tonight. Is that okay?’
‘You’re the boss, Big Guy,’ says Big Sue, slouching on the bench seat, her arm slung round Big Mand’s shoulder.
‘I’m not the boss, but if you insist, then can you take over duties for me, please? Make sure Ged and Liam have a great afternoon in the casino.’
‘Don’t worry about us. We’re going to stay in the suite and keep Franz company,’ Ged says casually.
‘Franz?’ I ask.
‘Our naked butler. He’s gorgeous,’ gushes Liam. ‘He’s divine.’
‘We’d hate for him to get lonely,’ adds Ged with a slutty twinkle in his eye.
‘How considerate,’ I say, trying not to imagine the scene.
‘I’ll come with you. I could use the fresh air too,’ says Cherry. ‘That roller disco has really taken its toll on my pelvis. A walk will do me good. Do us good.’ She hangs her head, gently rubbing her belly. ‘Or maybe not a walk. Maybe we need a spa afternoon,’ she suggests hopefully.
Gah!
I glance over at Matteo. He mimes a cough.
‘Well, I also think I’m coming down with something. A bug. I’d hate for you to catch it.’ I fake a cough and put a hand to my throat. ‘Perhaps one of the others could spa with you?’
She eyes me closely.
She’ll know I’m lying. I am the picture of good health.
I’m glowing with endorphins because I’m bursting with happiness.
I’m effervescent with excitement and having a terrible time trying to hide it.
I’m sure it’s written all over my face. I can feel my cheeks flame as Cherry continues staring at me.
I swallow loudly.
‘Yeah, you look a bit swollen. You must be coming down with something.’
Once Cherry confirms that my face is puffy, the Dollz are quick to agree. Apparently, I look drained and lacking iron.
‘Yeah,’ says Tash, eyeing me up and down. ‘You’re definitely retaining water. Must be all the travelling. You might want to pick up something to help you deflate.’
Matteo stifles a snigger. I can’t even look him in the eye.
* * *
We make our way from the hotel to the outside. The heat hits me in the nicest way. I realise how cold the hotel is in comparison.
‘God, it’s so bright out here,’ I say, shielding my eyes. ‘How long have I been inside?’ It feels like weeks, not days.
‘So, we have a choice of about fifty different wedding boutiques,’ Matteo says, glancing up from his phone with a smile. ‘And hundreds of wedding vendors for the other stuff.’
‘Other stuff?’
‘You know, like do you want a bouquet to hold on the gondola? A wedding ring?’
Oh. I forget he’s fresh out of doing all of this with his cheating ex-fiancée. I wonder how he feels about wasting yet more money on a wedding that’s not going anywhere.
‘Seems a bit, erm, excessive for a fake wedding,’ I say, trying to squash my nerves down.
‘Is there a place that does everything on the cheap? I only have half a day free. And, erm, I only have so much left on my credit card.’ The heat rises up from my neck.
‘Because I’ve had to put so much Barbie—’
‘Hey,’ he says gently. ‘Please. I agreed to this. I’m happy to pay for all of it.’ He lifts my chin up. ‘It’s no problem. If that’s okay with you? I don’t want to seem… un-Dutch about it.’
I nod. My credit card will love Matteo until the end of time for this.
‘Good. I’ll do a search for quickie weddings.’
While he scrolls, I take the opportunity to imagine for a tiny second that this is real.
My heart skips a beat. It would be so unlike me to do something so reckless as to get married in Las Vegas.
My dad would kill me, for one thing. Never mind what Ged and Liam would make of me not including them in every minute detail beforehand.
The fallout would be catastrophic. Whatever we do, however we do it, it must be done swiftly to quash any romantic feelings that Birdie and Luke may still have, but without destroying our working relationships with them.
Then Matteo and I are free to get on with our romantic break and laugh all of this madness off.
We can finish the gigs for Nancy, and we can do all of the crazy pre-moon activities that still remain on the list.
‘I think Macy’s is this way.’ Matteo is studying his phone for directions. ‘They have a whole floor dedicated to quickie weddings and tux hire.’
I take a deep breath. ‘We’re really doing this, are we?’
‘We really are.’ Matteo sweeps me towards him in an unusual public display of affection. ‘We have to put a stop to Birdie and Luke.’
I couldn’t agree more. They are becoming obsessed.
* * *
We walk the ten minutes to Macy’s talking about Matteo’s many work commitments. He has left an events manager in charge in Spain, but they have been ringing him every single day.
‘I’m sorry my work is keeping me from you,’ he says.
‘I’m sorry my work and my duties as best woman are keeping me from you.’
‘It’s so good to see you though,’ Matteo says almost shyly.
‘I’m glad I came.’
‘Me too.’
My heart is singing a high C note right now.
It’s smashing imaginary wine glasses across Las Vegas as Matteo cups my face, his mouth hovering over mine before he kisses me.
Our lips slide tenderly together for a sweet, loving moment.
I open my eyes to see him looking at me in the most caring way and I know he feels the same.
No sooner do we step foot in the bridal department of the iconic Macy’s store than a personal shopper pounces on us.
‘Do you have an appointment?’
I shake my head.
‘Follow me,’ she instructs, eyeing us up and down. She frogmarches us over to a fitting room. ‘Wait here. We’re very busy today. Half the city is getting married.’
Within minutes, someone is ushering us to sit on the chaise longue and they are placing two flutes of champagne on the table.
‘Is this usual?’ I hiss to him, taking a sip. It’s delicious.
He shrugs, clinking my glass. ‘We should get married more often.’
A flamboyant assistant breezes in. ‘What theme are we having?’
Matteo and I look blankly at each other.
‘Classic, retro, celebrity, trashy-chic, vintage, zombie?’
‘Unplanned and spontaneous,’ I say. ‘But fun and quirky. We’re in the music business.’
Her eyes light up. ‘Leave it with me.’
I’d rather not, but it seems rude to decline the offer of help, and I don’t know what the etiquette in America is. Within minutes, she returns with a lot of white garments slung over her arm. They do not look like traditional wedding dresses.
She ushers me into the changing room, walking into it with me.
The fitting room is huge. ‘Try all of these on.’ She points to the pile of underwear on her arm.
‘We must build the outfit from the bottom up.’ She flings the garments onto little hooks on the wall before rather dramatically stepping outside and swishing the curtain shut.
I pick up the first one. It is an elaborate system of lace, ribbons and whalebone. It is a bridal basque. It’s next-level sexy. Luckily for me, it is no different to the costumes the Dollz have me wearing on stage half the time, so I climb into it easily.
‘It’s nice,’ I yell through the curtain. ‘But maybe a bit much?’
I have nice underwear in my suitcase. I don’t need pricey, see-through, baby-doll nighties and hold-up stockings.
‘Let’s see it,’ she says brusquely, sounding like a head teacher from Poland or Latvia or somewhere, and I find I’m instantly doing as I’m told.
There really is no need for this level of attention to detail.
But as soon as I emerge from the changing room and lock eyes with Matteo sitting a few feet away on the sofa, it’s as though I’m channelling my inner Liberty when she did her one-woman catwalk for Hank Junior.
His eyes widen as he almost spills his drink. I watch him recover himself as I do a little twirl for him. The sheer fabric is leaving little to the imagination. The high cut of the legs is super flattering. My waist is snatched. It’s like a second skin.
‘What do you think?’ the assistant asks him.
He coughs, putting his drink down on the coffee table. ‘Nice.’
She tuts. ‘Next one, please.’ As I disappear behind the curtain, I hear her explaining to Matteo, ‘We must find the correct underwear so that the dress sits comfortably.’
Makes sense.
‘But essentially, we must find out what your tastes are. The wedding night is the foundation stone to a healthy sex life. What drives your passions? What are your tastes?’
I hear Matteo coughing again. This must be excruciating for him. Who knew shopping for a couple of rentals would be this intrusive?
However, I am very keen for her to get to the bottom of Matteo’s passions and tastes. And I am willing to try on every goddamn piece of underwear in the whole store to find out.
‘You like white virginal? Full-length Victorian blushing bride nightgown? Showgirl? Been around the block and knows what she wants, Fifty Shades type? Cheerleader? Farm girl? City executive boss lady? Skater girl? Gothic vampire queen? What’s your type?’
She’s really bullying him, but to his credit he doesn’t answer her. He hasn’t caved as quickly as me. I fling open the curtain.
Matteo’s eyes scoot across my body before he stares respectfully into the space above my head. ‘Yes. That’s very nice too.’