Chapter 14
Sasha
There is one little factoid no one tells you when you get engaged.
Weddings suck.
Well, for the bride at least. And her helpers.
I helped Paige with her wedding and now, she’s off on her honeymoon.
A long one. After never taking a vacation, Bronson has swept Paige off to a tour of private islands.
Traveling, of course, by one of the family’s private jets—the one always on reserve for Bronson.
Kind of the Bachman version of Air Force One.
I’ve yet to have the pleasure.
So I suffered through planning her wedding. And now she’s not here to return the favor.
Unfortunately for me, my now very dominating fiancé has demanded that I, too, have a short engagement. Paige will be returning, sun-kissed and ravished, shortly before Carter and I are set to exchange vows.
Honestly, after the shindig we Bachman Beauties—as Paige has taken to calling us—threw for the king and queen of the family, nothing that I could pull off would live up to it.
And seeing the two of them up there, exchanging vows, it hit me in the core of my stomach—the wedding is not about the party.
Ever since I committed to the lifestyle, I’ve been forced to look at parts of myself I used to excuse. Carter can punish me, sure, but he cannot make me kind. He cannot make me generous. Those choices are mine.
I am ashamed of how I treated Paige when I felt threatened. So I apologized, showed up, and helped her build the wedding she wanted instead of the one I would have chosen.
I haven’t lost my independence or my tough streak. I’ve learned that I do not have to sharpen either one into a weapon every time I feel insecure. Lately, I’ve been choosing better.
Mary couldn’t be prouder.
Over tea one day, I tried to get the story of how she was when she first came to the Village. The trials John had hinted at her putting him through. She just smiled and waved her hand in the air, dismissing the notion, and saying, that’s a story for another day.
I would love to have been a fly on the wall for the early years of their marriage.
Was Mary as sassy and defiant as me? Did she give John as much of a run for his money as I did with Carter?
I guess I’ll never know because instead of spilling the beans on her past, Mary and I ate brownies and talked about my upcoming wedding.
She asked what I’m most looking forward to. And I told her the truth—the exchanging of our vows.
So unlike me.
The old Sasha would have been online shopping for dresses. Tasting cakes. Ordering champagne towers.
All while completely ignoring her groom.
Now, all I want to do is spend time with Carter. I love the way his eyes shine when I enter a room. The way he protects me, cherishes me. The way his hand smacks my ass every time I walk by him.
I can’t wait to make him my husband.
I don’t even care about the wedding—I just want to hear him say those words, to have and to hold from this day forward.
But I’ve got to give the family something to look forward to. We are a party people, after all.
I’m taking things in a different direction. The classy candlelit rooftop event of the year has already been taken. Why even bother going classy? Instead, I’m surprising the Bachmans with something altogether different.
I’ve decided to close down Barbells for the day and have the ceremony there.
After Brett’s heart attack, Carter and I have been trying to find ways to encourage the family to get into the gym and work out.
Try to explain to them that though they may be billionaires, one thing money can’t always buy you is your health—you have to put in the work.
That even though they may look gorgeous and fit, that doesn’t mean they don’t need cardio in their lives.
And there is one rule for gifts: no crystal, no silver, no more things Carter and I do not need.
Anyone determined to spend money can put it into the new Strong Girls Saturday fund at Barbells.
The program will cover shoes, trainer certifications, college application fees, and nutrition workshops for girls from John’s youth center.
Carter offered to bankroll the entire thing. I told him no. He asked how he could help without making it his. We settled on matching every dollar I raise. Partnership looks good on him.
We’ve been unsuccessful.
So we will have our wedding at the gym, and they will all have to come.
I’ve told them to wear spandex and be prepared to sweat.
When their faces looked back at me, etched with uncertainty, I told them there would be Michelangelo’s pizza and kegs of beer afterwards—to balance out the exercise part. They still looked a little unsure. Then I told them Mary was baking the cake.
That hooked ‘em.
I’ll be wearing white, the blushing virgin that I am. It’s a very short, spandex workout dress that I found online. It’s cute, funny, and I’ll be able to teach my class in it. I’m doing spin for the ladies; Carter is teaching CrossFit for the men.
Then we will celebrate the only part that matters to me, our ceremony. Afterwards, all the pizza, beer, and cake you can imagine.
I can’t wait.