‘Hey,’ Gino says. ‘These things happen.’
‘Unfortunately they always seem to happen to Craven,’ Betty says, as if it’s
his
fault.
‘Got an idea,’ Gino offers. ‘Dario’s here –
he’ll
be Craven’s best man.’
I sneak a quick glance at Dario. He looks horrified.
‘That would be wonderful,’ Betty exclaims, shifting her dead eyes toward Dario. ‘And such a handsome young man too.’
And so it is arranged. The Santangelos are an all-giving family. A bride and a best man all wrapped up in one neat little package. How very nice.
* * *
After brunch Dario and I take off and meet up with Olympia. True to herself she is all dreamy-eyed and post-coital.
‘I think I’m going to move to Vegas,’ she sighs as we all loll out by one of the luxurious hotel swimming pools.
‘You’re crazy,’ I say, because the truth is that Olympia
is
a little bit crazy.
‘Oh, yes,’ Olympia responds, adjusting her bikini top so that her full cleavage is on display. ‘
I’m
crazy, and
you’re
the one getting married at sixteen.’
‘Why d’you want to move to Vegas?’ I ask.
‘’Cause Rick thinks I should.’
‘Who’s Rick?’
‘The club manager, idiot. We’re in love.’
‘Lust,’ I correct.
‘What?’
‘One night of lust and you’re anyone’s.’
‘Thanks. What makes you think this isn’t the real thing?’
‘’Cause you’ve only known him for one day.’
‘And how long have
you
known Craven?’
‘Different situation,’ I point out. ‘Anyway, I’d like to see Dimitri’s face if you told him you were moving to Vegas.’
‘You’re both freaking nuts,’ Dario says, joining in. ‘And now I’ve got to go get fitted for some dumb dinner jacket ’cause of you.’ He gives me a brotherly glare and stands up. Girls in the vicinity all crane to get a better look at his blond six-foot frame in blue swim shorts that match his eyes.
‘Bye-bye, hot baby brother,’ Olympia sing-songs. ‘If only you were of legal age I’d be all over you.’
Dario gives an embarrassed grin. ‘Good luck with that moving to Vegas thing,’ he says before taking off.
‘He’s wicked cute,’ Olympia sighs, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. ‘Does he have a girlfriend?’
‘Not that I know of,’ I reply, hardly about to reveal Dario’s secret to Olympia. She has a big mouth and is not good at keeping secrets.
‘How come you took off last night?’ Olympia asks. ‘Didn’t you like Luke? I thought he was major cute.’
‘I’m about to get married,’ I remind her.
‘Ah yes, you should be making the most of your freedom.’
‘That’s what Luke said before I ran out on him.’
‘Then why
did
you leave?’
I left because of Marco. He’s on my mind big-time.
I left because I truly, deeply love him
.
‘’Cause . . . I dunno,’ I mumble vaguely.
Olympia screws up her eyes. ‘Are you
sure
you should be doing this? It’s not as if you’re ecstatically happy.’
I nod my head. ‘It’s what I want,’ I say firmly. ‘And I’m not about to change my mind.’
Chapter Forty-Nine
M
arco, Marco, Marco. Wherefore art thou, Marco?
Is Marco all I can think about? The way he moves, his dark eyes, his strong athletic body, his jet-black hair.
Our children would be a combination of both of us. How amazing would
that
be.
Thank goodness there is a Raoul in my life. At least there is someone who can take my mind off my one true love. Raoul is organizing an off-the-grid bachelorette party for me – a party that will take place after the formal ‘all girls’ dinner Betty Richmond has arranged.
‘All girls’ my ass, Betty and her tribe of uptight friends. Thank goodness there is an Olympia in my life too.
This is all taking place on the same night as Craven’s bachelor party, a party Dario is being forced to attend, since he is now officially Craven’s best man. I’ve told my brother that the moment he can get away he should hop a cab and come join Raoul’s event. He’s down with that.
Meanwhile there are only two days left before the wedding. Two more long days, and everything is set. I had to sit through an endlessly boring meeting with Talia Primm, who insisted on going over every detail with me so I could approve all her hard work.
‘It hasn’t been easy putting this all together in such a short period of time,’ she’d informed me, waiting for me to praise her valiant efforts – ‘I am a perfectionist, which I am sure you appreciate, and so is Mrs Richmond.’
I rallied, deciding that I may as well make her feel good about herself.
‘You’ve done an awesome job,’ I assured her.
‘Thank you,’ she’d replied, adjusting her wig.
It seems I am having a pink wedding. Pink tablecloths and napkins; pink placemats; pink flowers. Surely it’s Olympia who should be getting married surrounded by her favourite colour? It’s
so
not me. When the time comes and I have a real wedding, I want it to be black and silver all the way. Me and Marco. Black and silver. And maybe we’ll have the ceremony in Bali, or some other exotic location.
Craven is driving me nuts, and I know it’s mean of me, but I can’t help going out of my way to avoid him. He’s so freaking
needy
. It’s a total turn-off.
‘I h . . . hope they don’t have s . . . strippers at my bachelor night,’ he confides to me.
Is he kidding? Knowing Gino and Dimitri and Peter Richmond, it’ll be stripper city.
‘Everything will be cool,’ I tell him. ‘All you’ve got to do is relax, sit back and enjoy yourself.’
Oh my God! If he’s scared of strippers at his bachelor party, how’s he going to behave on our wedding night? I shudder to think. I’m sixteen, and he’s way more inexperienced than me. Gulp! Am I going to have to show
him
what to do? This isn’t right.
Meanwhile, once I make it through Betty Richmond’s dinner, it’s about to be all fun ahead.
* * *
Olympia is outrageous, shocking and a pure jolt of fresh air. She takes over Betty’s dinner, scandalizing the ladies with torrid tales of Dimitri’s conquests. ‘I have no idea how I ended up so normal,’ she purrs, fluffing out her blonde hair. ‘With a father like mine I should be a raving nympho.’
The ladies gasp their shock, although it’s apparent they are eating up every salacious word. They all know who Dimitri Stanislopoulos is. The Greek billionaire shipping tycoon with the reputation of being a rabid ladies’ man.
What would I do if Olympia wasn’t here?
How would I manage?
Thanks, Olympia, for taking the heat off me
.
Dinner ends early, and the two of us hurry upstairs to change into more suitable outfits for Raoul’s festivities. That afternoon we’d gone shopping and both picked out killer outfits. I went totally over the top and chose a tight black leather dress, thigh-high boots, and a to-die-for studded motorcycle jacket. Olympia preferred to take the hooker route, and she ended up getting a shorter-than-short white cleavage-city dress, a silver sequinned shrug and sky-high heels. ‘It’s Vegas, baby,’ she’d squealed. ‘We’ve gotta go for it!’
We change into our new clothes in Olympia’s suite, and race from the hotel on our way to Raoul’s event.
I am psyched – I don’t know what he has planned, but knowing Raoul it will be something major exciting.
* * *
Half-naked little people; bikini-clad models of both sexes cavorting in cages; disco balls galore; male strippers; a singing drag queen; and the best music ever!
Yes, Raoul has pulled out all the stops for an over-the-top night of scintillating decadence! Of course the first question out of his mouth is – ‘Where is your sweet brother?’
Probably shying away in horror from a gaggle of strippers
, I think.
‘Oh, he’ll be here soon,’ I say.
Raoul smiles, and gestures at the dazzling activities taking place. ‘You like?’
‘We
love
!’ Olympia answers for me. ‘Can I try dancing in a cage? I’ve always wanted to.’
Ah, Olympia, up for any challenge.
And so the evening
really
begins . . .
* * *
It’s late, I have no clue how late. I only know I am totally drunk on endless tequila shots, and that’s
so
not me. I’m the girl who likes to stay on top of things, be aware, know what’s going on. But I’m allowed to freak out once in a while, aren’t I? I’m allowed to get crazy, considering what my future holds.
Dario showed up earlier with gross stories of nude lap dances, and Peter Richmond making a spectacle of himself.
Who cares?
I don’t
.
I have other things to consider. Where is Marco? Will I see him before my execution – uh, sorry – I mean wedding.
AM I DOING THE RIGHT THING?
I feel sick, make it to the ladies’ room, throw up, feel better.
My baby brother insists on taking me back to the hotel. I allow him to lead me from the club even though the mayhem is far from over. I see Olympia making out with one of the male strippers, while Raoul is parading around in full make-up and a long blonde wig.
It’s all too much.
I’ve had fun, but it’s time to get serious.
Chapter Fifty
I
t’s morning, I open one eye and I’m shocked to see Gino standing over my bed staring down at me with a pensive expression. Why is he here? Did I do something terrible last night? Something I can’t recall?
Memories are a blur. I have a raging headache and I am desperate to pee.
‘Daddy,’ I croak. ‘What’s up?’
‘Hey, kiddo,’ he says, rubbing his hands together. ‘It’s noon. Why’re you still sleeping?’
To avoid waking up
, I want to say, but I don’t.
‘Didn’t realize it was so late,’ I mumble.
‘How was your dinner with Betty?’ he asks.
‘Uh . . . fine.’
Gino sits himself down on the edge of my bed. I squirm uncomfortably. I feel trapped and certainly not prepared for a cosy father–daughter chat.
‘I know Betty’s not exactly a mother figure,’ Gino says, clearing his throat. ‘But you gotta give her a chance, she’s really a good woman.’
Good in bed, Daddy? Is that it?
‘OK,’ I say carefully, wishing he’d leave already.
‘I know this is like a big rushed deal,’ Gino says. ‘However, one of these days you’re gonna thank me. You’re gonna tell me I did the right thing.’
‘If you say so,’ I manage.
‘Yeah, kiddo, I say so.’ A long beat. ‘You got no mother – all you got is me an’ Dario, an’ that’s not enough. You need a family around you, an’ the Richmonds are just that, a real close family unit.’
What is he, blind?
‘They’re powerful too,’ Gino continues. ‘Well respected, an’ well liked. You never know, one day Peter could be sittin’ in the White House, with you an’ Craven right alongside him.’
Yeah, and horses will fly
.
‘It’s OK, Gino,’ I say. ‘I get it. I’m cool with the situation.’
He gives a sigh of relief. ‘That’s what I wanted to hear, ’cause you know I love you, kiddo. You’ll always be my little princess.’
My eyes automatically fill with tears. Daddy Dearest certainly knows how to pull my strings.
He gets up. ‘Tonight,’ he says, ‘a quiet dinner. You, me and Dario.’
I nod, he’s gone, and so my day begins.
Later Olympia, Dario and I take up our usual positions beside the pool and rehash last night’s activities.
Apparently Dimitri and Tasha ended up having a screaming row after she accused him of sleeping with one of the strippers at Craven’s bachelor party.
‘The Russian bitch has left the building,’ Olympia announces, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. ‘Dimitri doesn’t seem to be too concerned.’
‘Did you tell him you’re thinking of moving to Vegas?’ I ask.
‘Huh?’ Olympia manages a look of sheer puzzlement. ‘What
are
you talking about? Three days and this place is over for me.’
I guess club manager Rick is just a distant memory.
Dario reveals more about the bachelor party. ‘It was my worst nightmare,’ he says with a shudder. ‘All those horrible naked girls crawling all over everyone. Gross!’
‘Was Marco there?’ I ask, suddenly breathless.
‘Yeah, he was there.’
The image of Marco with naked strippers infuriates me. Surely he doesn’t enjoy that kind of thing? Then I think,
who am I kidding – he’s a man, isn’t he
?
I have no desire to obsess about Marco any more. I need to file him away in the back of my head until I’m ready to take his breath away. Because one day it will happen, I have never been more sure of anything. Marco and I are destined to be together. It’s a given.
‘I adore Raoul,’ Olympia exclaims. ‘What a character! Where did you find him?’
‘I didn’t find him. Betty Richmond did.’
‘Well, there’s a mismatched pair,’ Olympia drawls. ‘The uptight hag and the raging queen.’
I can’t help giggling. I turn to Dario. ‘What do
you
think of Raoul?’
Dario blushes a deep beet red, and I realize that something must’ve gone on between them that I don’t know about.
Oh dear, Dario’s so young and yet not so innocent. Exactly like me.
Olympia’s listening, so I think it’s best to quickly move on. I jump up. ‘Last one in the pool is a chicken,’ I say, making a running dive into the water.
Dario follows me. Olympia doesn’t, swimming’s not her forte – balancing a margarita and admiring glances from men is.
‘So what’s up with you and Raoul?’ I ask, surfacing with a sputter.
‘How’d you know?’ Dario questions, treading water.
‘It’s not like you have a poker face.’
‘Nothing major. He’s nice, he makes me laugh.’
‘
And
he’s got a boyfriend.’
‘So’ve I.’