23. Beau
BEAU
Gabi
Did y’all seriously get married? Please tell me this is a joke.
Me
What do you want me to say? The truth? Or what you want to hear?
Beaumont Frederick Devereaux! Did you marry my best friend?
Yes.
Without me?
Yes. Which obviously is the biggest thing wrong with this situation.
Not the time for sarcasm big brother. I can’t believe y’all got married. Without me!
If it makes you feel better, in our hazy memory of the night, we said you’d freak out if we did it. So we were thinking of you.
Gee…I’m honored.
Are you just messaging to yell at me?
No. I wanted confirmation that you were in fact married because I nearly dropped my child when I saw the news. There I was, standing on the golf course, trying to watch my brother and my best friend win a tournament together, and that’s what I see on my phone.
I wanted to find y’all, but I was pushed into the media room so fast, I didn’t have a second to get my bearings.
We know. We saw. We thought it would be best if we took off. You’d reach out to us when you could.
In all seriousness, I am sorry. I know Shelby is too. We truly don’t remember doing it. We didn’t keep this from you on purpose.
I know. But I’m still mad at both of you.
That’s fair.
So…are you two like, married married? Which means you have to get a divorce, right? Annulment? How do you end what I’m assuming is a drunk Vegas marriage?
So about that…
Beaumont…
We aren’t ending it.
WHAT!?!
It’s a very long story. And actually, Shelby still needs some convincing. Got any advice for that?
I have soooo many questions…And as for the help, she’s a sucker for Doritos in the purple bag and Sprite. Oh, and vodka.
Vodka is how we got into this mess.
“Who’s that you’re texting? Our vow renewal coordinator?”
I take a deep breath, knowing that my own snappy comeback isn’t the answer.
I always thought Shelby’s brand of being a smartass was just her—the hardened soul she’s become over the years.
And while that’s partially true, I’ve also come to realize her sarcastic humor, which oftentimes comes in the form of digs at me, is her way of taking a few extra seconds to process things.
To really let herself figure out the gravity of a situation and make a decision.
So if I need to be her verbal punching bag for a minute, that’s fine. Because she needs to come around.
For both our sakes.
“It was Gabi. She was checking in on us.”
Shelby’s shoulders slump as she plops down on her oversized recliner. “I should’ve called her.”
“She understands why you didn’t,” I say, falling back against the couch I’m sitting on. “But she’s worried about us.”
“Is that it?”
“And curious. About a lot of things.”
Shelby’s quiet for a few seconds, then her sad blue eyes turn to me. “Are we really doing this?”
Once Shelby realized she was the only one in the room who thought staying married was a bad idea, it only took her fifteen minutes to come around to the idea. Well, ‘come around’ is a strong description. She agreed to think about it, which, in the world of Shelby, is a win.
“I think we have to.”
That’s a lie. There’s no thinking on it anymore.
We have to. It’s a must. But coming out overly strong in this situation isn’t going to fully convince my wife that she needs to stay married to me.
I’m just hoping now that we’re away from Ethan, Kat, and Grayson—and back in her space—I can get her to see why this needs to happen.
“Can we go over this again?” she asks. “Not that I don’t trust you and why you’re saying we need to. It’s just… I feel like I’m being told what to do by every side, and I haven’t had time to process and think about it for myself.”
I’ve gotten to know Shelby better than I ever have over the last few days, but somehow, what she just asked me for feels like the biggest trust test of all. Two weeks ago she would’ve just assumed that I was out to get her. Now…now she’s asking me for help. Wanting to trust me, just on her terms.
I’ll take it. I’ll take it all damn day.
“If we get divorced, we have to make a statement that neither of us want to make,” I start, knowing I’ll be repeating a lot of what our PR team said, but also adding a few details I think will hit home a little more when it comes to Shelby’s way of thinking.
“People are going to ask why we even did it, and we’ll have to admit we were shitfaced, wasted and don’t remember.
That gets a lot of people in trouble. Frank because he overserved us and let me buy entire bottles of whiskey.
The Clerk of Courts, a poor civil servant just trying to do his job.
And then there’s the chapel. Do you want Elvis to lose his right to marry people. Think about Elvis, Shelby!”
“Dirty move bringing Frank and Elvis into this.”
“But it’s true. And then even after that, people will ask about the Thursday brawl, which will have people wondering if we should’ve been playing at all, since we were arguably still drunk from the night before.
Ending this right now opens up a lot of questions…
none that will do either of us favors when it comes to our image. ”
I stand up from my seat and pull over the ottoman so I can sit in front of her.
“Getting divorced means this stays a story. And if this stays a story, that means more of Michael. He broke it. He’s going to become the ‘expert insider’ on the debacle in Vegas.
He’ll be in your life more than you want him to.
More than I want him to. But if we stay married?
If we’re happy and just living our life?
Well, in the media world, that’s boring.
A non story. Michael goes back to being the guy who shows up at a few tournaments a year and just covers golf. ”
Shelby doesn’t say anything, letting the information I know she knows deep down process.
“If we’ve learned anything today, it’s that people want us to be in this.
If we present the happy couple who got a little crazy in Vegas, but are committed, people are going to forget about the fight.
They’ll focus on your new marriage, and not on the new swing you’re going to have to figure out sooner or later.
They’ll ask me about you and how I’m settling into married life, not if I’m going to go ballistic because there’s a chance of rain. ”
I take a risk and reach for her hand. I don’t know if she’s just too tired from the day or what, but she gives it to me without hesitation or skepticism.
“This is the best case scenario, Shelby. The easiest path to what we both need. Plus, like everyone said, this could lead to some potential avenues neither of us thought could happen.”
This gets me a sharp eyebrow raise. “You know I don’t care about that kind of stuff.”
“Oh, I know,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “But I do. And maybe once you see how it works, you might not be absolutely turned off by the idea of participating in an endorsement campaign.”
“I hate all of this,” she says with a deep sigh. “But you’re right. They’re right. Everyone’s right. Except me.”
Once I figured out what Kat and Grayson’s end game was, I knew this was how it was going to be.
I was going to see the vision first. Shelby was going to fight it.
Ethan wasn’t going to give us a chance to say no.
Shelby was going to try and figure out a way to get out of it, but, at the end of the day, she was going to realize she needed to get on board.
She might not like it, but she’s not dumb. She knows everything I said is true.
Now she just has to come to terms with it.
“Can I ask a few questions?”
“Of course, wife,” I say with a smile. As expected, the only thing that gets me is her pulling her hand back and a short eye roll.
“First, we’re going to stop that nonsense.”
“What?”
“That whole ‘wife’ crap. I’m not your wife.”
“The state of Nevada begs to differ.”
“Fine. Legally we might be married, but you know this isn’t real. So when it’s just us, you don’t need to pretend to be the dutiful husband.”
“Then explain this?”
I take my cell phone out of my pocket and bring up her contact information. “If you’re not my wife, then why is that your name in my cell phone?”
Shelby snatches it from my hand and looks at it before looking back to me. “Do you think this is a joke?”
“Absolutely not,” I say. “This is your life and your reputation on the line just as much as it is mine, maybe even more so. Plus, I hadn’t changed your name in a while. It was due for a refresh.”
“And wife is what you came up with?”
“I mean, that’s what you are, so why not?”
“Beau, I need you to be serious,” she says as she hands me back my phone. “We’re not going to be a real husband and wife, and that’s what we need to figure out. If we’re doing this, we need ground rules and logistics.”
“You’re right,” I concede. “If we’re going to pull this off, make everyone think this marriage is for real and not some big PR scam, we have to be believable. Which probably starts with where we’re living.”
“We have to live together? I thought we’d just pretend in public.”
Now it’s my turn to look at her like she’s lost the plot.
“Shelby. You can’t believe that would work.
You don’t think Michael’s going to be paying people at the country club to watch us?
Hell, I wouldn’t put it past tabloids to circle drones.
People will notice if we’re going to our separate homes every night. ”
The groan she lets out echoes off her walls. “Fine, then you need to move here.”
I have to blink a few times, because…what did she say? I’m all about happy wife, happy life and all that, but she has to know that my house is clearly the choice here.
“Can I ask why we’re moving into your house and not mine?”
“Because I don’t want to do this, so you moving here is the least you can do.”
Okay, point Shelby. “While I will give you that, have you thought about what you would have at my house versus yours?”
“I have. And I prefer beds with headboards.”
“If you want to see the inside of my bedroom, Belle, you just have to ask.”