They walked in as one of the band members on the stage across the room announced them. “May I introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Vincent Cunningham! Can they get a round of applause, people?”
The hall erupted in loud cheers and whistles, clapping and shouts of well wishes as the band started playing what was supposedly their song. Vincent led her out to the dance floor and spun her out far before drawing her into his arms as the music played and everyone gathered around the edge of the dance floor.
“This is the song you picked?” he whispered.
“I thought it was very fitting,” she said as Lana Del Rey’s Love sounded around them.
Being this close to him again awoke the sense of belonging within her and the insane urge to kiss him in front of everyone, but she remembered how the week had gone and kissing him was the last thing on her mind. She struggled to keep a smile on her face and make it look like she had a good time with her husband. The song finally ended, and Vincent held up their clasped hands. Now the fun would really begin, and Natalie braced herself for an onslaught of questions. Most were thankfully directed at Vincent, and she let him take the lead. She shook hands and introduced herself to his colleagues and family friends, and even his mother, Doris, who sauntered over with a man on her arm.
“You are certainly a sight to behold, my dear,” Doris exclaimed and hugged her close. “I’ll be expecting grandchildren now, don’t you forget that.”
Natalie burst out laughing as Vincent’s face turned five shades of red and he ground his teeth. “Mom, really? You can’t wait to do that later?”
“Do what later? I’m simply telling this adorable woman about my hopes and dreams.”
“Tell her about them later, for the love of God,” he muttered.
Doris waved her hand in her son’s face, and Natalie covered her laughter with a loud cough. Vincent shot her a look as he tried to speak with a few more people. They all noticed the sudden spike in tension between them, and Natalie was tempted to reach over and pinch his arm. If he couldn’t wipe that damn scowl off his face, no one would believe they were happily married. After an hour of him explaining to people about how they met and warding off any questions that dug too deep into the personal lives they clearly didn’t know, Vincent looked ready to lose it. Natalie’s hand tapped his, but he snatched it away quickly.
“I need to get some air. If you’ll excuse me,” he announced abruptly and walked away from the group of people he was talking to, mostly other business owners who were clearly interested in his upcoming campaign.
“My, is he all right, dear?” one of the women asked Natalie politely.
“I think it’s work, and he had a cold earlier this week,” she lied. “Nothing to worry about. I’m sure you know how men get when they’re sick,” she added with a wink, and the older women around her laughed knowingly. “If you’ll excuse me? I’ll go check on him.”
Natalie stopped by the bar and snagged two glasses and a bottle of whiskey before she stalked out of the hall. A few people pointed her helpfully towards the doors leading to the gardens outside the hotel. Vincent was ruining his night. She was trying her best to be happy and make a good impression for him, and what did he do? Sulk and destroy this relationship before it even had a chance to get started. He was a damn hypocrite, and she would not watch him sabotage himself on a night as important as their reception. He’d never told her why he wanted to run for Congress, but she had an inkling it had to do with his late father.
She walked through the gardens teeming with beautiful flowers in bloom and a burbling stream that ran under an iron bridge. The grounds were empty except for her and the man she found leaning on the railing of the bridge, glaring into the water.
“You keep staring that hard, your face will stick,” she said as she joined him.
“I said I needed some air,” he grumbled.
“No, what you need is whiskey. Here,” she said and poured him a glass, along with one for herself, and set the bottle down. She clinked her glass against his. “Cheers.” She shot the whiskey back in one swallow, smacking her lips and shuddering at the burn down her throat. “Damn, I picked a good bottle.”
“What are you trying to do?”
“I’m trying to keep this night going for you while you seem content to ruin it.”
His eyes widened. “You’re joking, right?”
“Who’s standing there looking like the most dejected man in the world? That would be you. Who’s been nothing but an asshole all week? Also, you. I said I would stand by your side and not fuck up your career and I meant it. Did you?”
“Did I what?” he snapped.
“Did you really mean it when you said you wanted to make this work? See if it could? Or were you practicing your lying skills before you hit the campaign trail next year?” All the anger she’d bottled up throughout the week seeped beyond her control, and she poured another full shot of whiskey, hoping to keep herself in some semblance of calm. Vincent’s eyes slipped to the bottle and he took it from her.
“You don’t get to sit there and yell at me when you’ve spent the week in the bottle! You never told me you were a damn drunk!”
Natalie paused with the glass against her lips. “A drunk? I haven’t been drunk since I met you, though tonight, I might get damn close.”
“Sure, lie about that too. What else are you hiding from me?”
“Nothing, you asshole! I have not been drunk.”
His laugh was sharp and grated on her nerves. “So those nights when I talked to you, asked you questions and you agreed to change, and then the next day you acted as if we never spoke at all? You weren’t drunk those nights? Really?”
Natalie set the glass down. On second thought, she threw the whole thing into the water. Vincent blinked in surprise when she yanked the bottle from his hands and sent it over the railing too, along with his glass before he even had a chance to drink it.
“If I was a drunk, do you really think I would let that liquor go to waste?”
“Then explain to me why you act like you don’t remember our conversations.”
She sighed and gripped the railing. She’d hoped to avoid getting into the details of her accident so soon into their relationship, but if she was having conversations with him and not remembering, then there was no avoiding it. “During the accident, I suffered severe head trauma. It mostly affects my short-term memory, but some long-term,” she explained quietly. “There are days I have trouble remembering my childhood or recognizing friends—most of the time, actually.”
Vincent’s whole demeanor changed as he cursed under his breath and leaned on the railing beside her. “Why didn’t you tell me that a week ago?”
“It’s a sensitive subject.” She leaned on her arms and watched lightning bugs light up the garden. “I’m sorry for not telling you and for forgetting things. Just another lovely tidbit I picked up from the accident.”
“Along with your fear of cars.”
She was thinking of something else but nodded. “Yeah, that makes life difficult.”
His hand moved down the railing until it rested on hers. “I think I owe you an apology.”
“You think?” she agreed. “Do you really not like my piercings? Or my clothes?”
His laugh was accompanied by a grimace. “I didn’t mean it to come across so harshly. I happen to find your piercings extremely hot, as well as your sweatshirt and those damn shorty shorts.” He picked up her hand so he could hold it, running his thumb over her knuckles in a soothing manner. “This political crap isn’t new to me. I know what Mom and Dad went through with me running around being the bachelor billionaire. I nearly cost Dad the election a few times.”
“And you want him and everyone else to be proud of you,” she murmured. “I get it, I do.”
“I don’t think you do. I wasn’t mad at you this week, Natalie. I was mad at myself and the pressures already building. Billy’s been on my ass about if this blows up in our face, and suffice it to say, I’ve never handled stress well.”
Gently, he turned her so they faced each other. His dark chocolate eyes glimmered with a sudden hunger, and Natalie’s toes curled in response.
“I want to get to know you—the real you, not a woman constrained by what’s expected.”
“But you also need to win this election,” she reminded him on a sigh. “I have a feeling you’re not letting me see the real Vincent Cunningham either.”
“Someday soon, we’ll have to change that.” He drew her to his body and slipped an arm around her waist. Natalie’s breath caught as he leaned in close for a kiss, but instead of following through, he waited. “Forgive me for being an ass?”
Her lips curled as she nodded. “If you forgive me for neglecting to tell you about my head injury.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
Leave a Reply