Chapter 13
Nikita
“Pop the Champagne, I’m changing my last name.” Those words are sprawled across a banner hanging above the doors that open up onto the outside area of the restaurant, the venue for tonight’s champagne tasting. For a couple that doesn’t want their wedding to be like everyone else’s, they sure don’t have a problem using the same cliché phrases. The restaurant’s patio sprawls out along the beach, offering a view of the ocean in the distance. Although it is just after six pm, we’ll still enjoy the sun until well after eight.
“Welcome!” An enthusiastic hostess beams at us as Calvin and I stop at the entrance. “Are you here with the McCormick-Taylor wedding party?”
“We are,” Calvin answers her.
“Wonderful! You can make your way outside. That’s where the tasting will be taking place.”
We thank her before following the instructions and making our way outside. There’s a buzz throughout the room, and the afro-beats playing through the speakers make it difficult not to move to the music. There is a light breeze passing through the restaurant, but it is a welcomed one.
I am in a good mood. I spent the rest of the day catching up on some sleep while simultaneously catching a tan. I can’t remember the last time I had a chance to relax like that. I am feeling rejuvenated.
“Do you like champagne?” I ask Calvin.
“No.”
His response is very abrupt, and I have to go through my process of consecutive deep breaths to remain calm and not take it personally. I have found a state of ‘zen’, as my brother would call it, and I am not about to let Calvin’s bad mood ruin that.
“I like it, thanks for asking.”
No response.
“I just hope I don’t drink too much of it.” Calvin is glancing around the room, his eyes filled with apprehension. There is no way he is listening to a word I am saying which only annoys me more. If I am going to play the part he wants me to, then he is going to need to pull his weight in this arrangement.
“Wine and champagne make me horny.” The words leave my mouth at the precise moment one of the waiters floating around approaches us, bringing us to a stop with a tray of already-filled champagne. The young man carrying the tray snorts, which quickly turns to a cough as Calvin whips his head to me, eyes wide. “Nikita!”
“What?” I reach for a glass feigning innocence, “It’s true!”
The waiter looks amused as he turns to Calvin, offering him a glass of champagne that he declines in a very abrasive manner. “Is there a reason you felt compelled to broadcast what turns you on to the entire room?” He mutters in a hushed, yet very clearly annoyed tone.
I match his delivery. “Is there a reason you’re acting like such a dick?”
“I’m not.”
“Yes you are.” I dart my eyes around, making sure no one was eavesdropping, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he mutters but he looks visibly uneasy. He fiddles with the rolled-up sleeves of his light blue linen shirt that he spent about ten minutes re-doing before we left. He is clearly still unhappy with the outcome. Just to be clear, there is nothing wrong with his sleeves, but I have come to realize that Calvin seemed to be a tad… obsessive.
* * *
I placemy free hand over his hand that is fiddling with his sleeve again, in an attempt to stop him. “Calvin…” My voice is low, and I plaster a fake smile on my face, “Your sleeves are fine, just like they were before we left the room.”
I had thought that between the two of us, I would have been the one to take the longest to get ready, but Calvin was debunking that stereotype, and I ended up being the one waiting for him to finish. Especially since he spends so much time readjusting his appearance.
I want to pretend that it isn’t worth it, but Calvin cleans up well.
With his freshly pressed light blue linen button-up shirt paired with cream chinos and loafers, Calvin exudes his old-money-like aesthetic again. There is nothing he can do about his hair since the humidity has the same effect on him as it does on mine. There is an excessive amount of gel applied to his hair to try and stop his natural curls from making an appearance, but it is a losing battle. I can already see them forming.
I know the frustration of excessive curly hair. I had to fight mine just to get them tamed enough to suit my own look. Initially trying an up-do with it but I eventually lost patience and have since left my dark hair to cascade down my shoulders. One of the new pieces of clothing I had gotten was the body-hugging deep forest green dress I have on. The material molds into a second skin, but in a classy way. It stops above my knee and I have chosen this dress thanks to its halter-neck style that allows my boobs to be held together, giving the illusion that gravity isn’t against me like it usually is.
I feel confident, and even Calvin’s eyes lingered a little longer back in the room than both of us expected before I called him out for it.
“What? I was surprised, that’s all,” he had said.
“Surprised by what?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you clean up like this. Good job.”
Good job?As if I had completed a task at work. I brushed that off and took it as his version of a compliment.
I offer him the glass of champagne and stop him as he opens his mouth, most likely to decline it. “You need this more than I do.”
“I’d rather have bourbon.”
“You’re going to have trouble at a champagne tasting then,” I say dryly, “Just taste it.”
“I don’t like champagne, Nikita.” He eyes the glass in my hand, his face pulling in disgust.
“Could have sworn I had just offered you urine,” I mutter, “Why do you look at it like that? You could end up loving it, but you’re too afraid to try it.”
“Oh, well,” he mumbles sarcastically, testing my patience again. I rest my hand on his elbow and pull him to an empty corner, making sure we are out of earshot of anyone that is already there.
I have my back turned to the entrance. “Look, I know I agreed to help you out, but I’m going to need you to meet me halfway. This mood you’re in.” I fling my hand, gesturing from top to bottom, “Get rid of it, because if I am going to pretend to be your loving girlfriend, then you’re going to need to play your part of a loving boyfriend.”
He runs his fingers through his hair, mumbling something under his breath.
“What was that?”
Sighing, he articulates what he said better. “You’re right.”
I’m taken aback. “I am?” I straighten up and take the victory. “Of course, I am.”
“I’m just nervous, alright?” he admits in a small voice, “I haven’t seen Violet since she moved out.”
Ah, that’s what it was. Having an explanation for his behavior makes it much easier to understand, and a part of me feels bad for him. “I get it. It’s going to be weird and uncomfortable, but you’re not alone.” I offer him a smile. “I’m here, so take advantage.” His eyes narrow but a small smile plays on his lips, “I’m almost certain you didn’t mean to phrase it that way.”
Heat stains my cheeks as I realize how that sounds, “Maybe, maybe not.”
His shoulders relax as he chuckles before taking a deep breath in, visibly shaking off his apprehension and offers his hand to me. “Shall we?”
I smile, slipping my hand into unfamiliar territory, “Lead the way.”