Epilogue
Daisy
I ’m at my “engagement” party.
My parents have thrown Lorde and me an engagement party as a way to introduce us to the world as a couple.
To be fair, the media sort of forced their hands after publishing spread after spread about my new relationship.
For about two weeks, Lorde and I dominated every relationship page, much to the relief of others like us, I’m sure.
One of the country’s prettiest heiresses suddenly engaged to an Oscar-winner’s bad girl daughter?
Oh, we dominated the gossip. My parents, being the proper people they are, responded with alacrity by saying they gave their blessing and kindly asked the media to give us our privacy as we went about our lives. Yeah, right.
Camilla thinks the whole thing is hilarious since she didn’t even know I existed until like a month ago!
Now she’s acting like we’re best friends.
She’s the one who took me shopping for my party gown, a sweet royal purple sheath dress by one of her favorite best friend designers.
Lorde warned me that relationships with her mother are tenuous.
It’s true. Camilla comes by when it’s convenient to her, but she likes me, and that’s what matters most from a future mother-in-law – even if it’s my family that is dominating everything.
The only real problem with Camilla is that she’s one of the other people who know Lorde and I are “legally wedded” already and she’s almost spilled the beans more times than any of us like to admit.
Because we have a plan, you see. Nobody aside from our parents, the Antonettis, and a Vegas drag queen knows that Lorde and I are married already.
(And as much as I enjoyed Diamond’s help, we did fly back to Vegas for a part honeymoon, part make-her-and-everyone-else-sign-NDAs adventure, as spurred on by my family.
In return, we promised to invite them to the “real” wedding.) We’re still presenting as “recently engaged” to the media and even our friends.
Ashleigh doesn’t know. Angus doesn’t know.
Ashleigh fawned all over my ring and cried to hear the story of Lorde sticking up for me so hard, and Angus…
well, he’s agreed to be Lorde’s best man. That’s all I know about him.
Otherwise, only a handful of us know the truth – that Lorde and I eloped in Vegas.
We’re already married. We’re working on a post-nuptial agreement that makes everyone happy.
(Honestly, that’s between our lawyers. I don’t really care.) Lorde and I still technically live separately to maintain an image, but we spend most of our nights at each other’s places and are already shopping around for our own condo.
If we find the perfect one, we’re jumping on it and moving in together.
What could Daddy and Mama possibly say against it? We’re married!
Everyone asks us when we’re having the wedding.
We give them the same stock answer. “We don’t know.
Sometime after we finish school.” Lorde is starting Harvard in the spring, and I’m back at school for my junior year.
With any luck, we’ll finish our degrees around the same time.
I’m still trying to decide what I want to do.
I’m not stressing out about it. Besides, this will give us plenty of time to grow our relationship and get to know each other more.
We’re getting along great. Some days are easier than others, of course, but I’ve never gone to bed angry at her and she’s been nothing but what I need… whether that’s sweet or rough.
I don’t have to tell you that the sex is fantastic. Sometimes every day. Sometimes multiple times a day. We spent a week in the Bahamas and didn’t leave our room once. Oops.
For now, I’m enjoying my life for what it is. Lorde seems pretty happy, too. Her reputation as a promiscuous bad girl has been dashed… but she’s still my bad girl. At least twice a week she says something to rile me up. Not that it works anymore. I know it’s how she flirts.
I love it. Keeps my wits sharp. Us bantering is a mating ritual at this point.
“Oh, my God, Daisy!” Ashleigh approaches us as we greet our party guests at my family’s house. Mama always said we don’t get to use the ballroom often enough. “Look at you! An engagement party!”
“Look at you too,” I say, spotting Angus not far behind Ashleigh. To think, we had these couplings all wrong in the beginning. “It’s my maid of honor.”
Every time I call her that, Ashleigh squeals. I’m not starting any wedding planning until we have a date set, but Ashleigh takes being my maid of honor as a huge point of pride.
More people file in. Some of them I know.
Most of them I don’t. Daddy invited most of them.
This may be our party, as I’m reminded every time Lorde squeezes my ass, but Daddy is wandering around the ballroom shaking hands and holding up a champagne glass every five seconds.
At least he and Lorde are cool. They even go golfing sometimes, much to Lorde’s great and hilarious chagrin.
(She’s the wrong kind of athlete for golf.
The woman can run a marathon, lift weights, and ride a skateboard, but golfing?
Her handicap is… generous. Or so I hear from the manager of the flagship store.)
“Daze,” Lorde says, stealing my attention away from my half-drunk father and pointing to our next guest. “We’re still playing hostess.”
I love how she says stuff like that. We’re playing hostess. When we have kids, she’ll be saying we’re pregnant.
I turn.
“Good afternoon.” Fuck me! What is Kathleen Allen doing at my engagement party?
Granted, she looks fresh from the airport or hungover, but still, what?
“Congratulations on your engagement.” She extends her hand for us to shake, then yanks it back again so she can rip off her sunglasses now that she’s inside.
She probably decided to come at the last minute, but I don’t care. I’m fangirling right now.
“Hi!” Wow, her hands are so soft! And her nails.
Where does she get them done? Bit disappointed she’s not wearing that vintage ring, but I see a gold band on her right hand.
Doesn’t compare to my engagement rocks, though.
“Thank you for coming!” I jam my elbow into Lorde’s side. She shakes Kathleen’s hand next.
Who invited her? Was it Daddy? Is she here on behalf of her family? I need to get on Daddy’s level.
Before she can pass on into the ballroom for however long she’s decided to stay, I say, “This might sound weird, but I’ve always wanted to meet you. Now here you are at my engagement party!”
She’s taken aback. To be fair, that was silly of me... “Thank you? Any particular reason?”
I blather about absolutely nothing, although I manage to get her charity work in there. I think I’ve lost Lorde. She’s talking to someone else now. I’m sure she’ll tease me to hell and back later about having a crush on Kathleen, the “older woman” who isn’t that much older than Lorde.
“Really? Are you interested in that sort of thing?”
“Well, I…” Am I? “Never really thought about it.”
Kathleen opens her clutch and hands me a business card. “In case you ever get around to thinking about it. Enjoy your party.” She enters the ballroom with nary a turn of her head.
“You leaving me for another chick?” Lorde and I are alone again. “’Cause that might be hot.” I’d be down with that.”
I show her the card. “You think I should get into non-profit work?”
“Baby,” she says, circling her arm around my midsection and bringing me in for a kiss.
“You can do whatever you want. I’m the one who’s going to Harvard to show off for your dad.
” She kisses me again. “Now, how about you and me take a five-minute break from this snore fest to have a quickie in your old bedroom?”
“Will you dance with me when we get back?”
“I’ll dance with you wherever you want, Daze.” She spots a photographer in the far corner. “I even know how to show off your good side for the press.”
She knows me so well. I’ve got a feeling this is going to be a long, adventurous relationship, and I can’t wait to see where it goes. After all, I’m no longer “just” an heiress. I’m Lorde’s wife. I’m getting a degree and forging my own future.
Where this takes us… The family business, kids, hosting charity galas… I have no idea. All I know is that none of it is happening right now. Because this moment belongs to me, sneaking off upstairs with my frisky wife, who loves having her secrets with me.
And I love the secrets, too. Catch this, paparazzi!
THE END