Page 40 of It Happened in Vegas

“You said to keep my eyes and hands on you. When you tell me what you need from me, I’m going to deliver, every single time. And then some.” He nuzzled into my neck, kissing and sucking there.

Oof. My heart. My body. Keaton hardly had to do more to prove he could be excellent boyfriend material—exactly what I’d want. If I was looking for a guy in my life, that is. Wait… was I looking for one?

The wedding march began, the perfect distraction from dwelling on things. Vanessa floated in first on white studded stilettos, lovely and smiling, her makeup perfect, her platinum hair swept up and held in place with a short veil—except she wore the exact white sequined two-piece Starla had on.

Instead of turning up the aisle to Ben, Vanessa detoured, continuing straight to Starla. Her face morphed from sweet, innocent bride to bridezilla in two seconds flat.

“You fucking bitch,” she yelled. “I’mthe bride. How dare you dress like me?”

The camera people sprinted to follow and adjust, hoping to get it all on film.

“I cannot believe Starla’s audacity,” I whispered.

“I can. This was what the TV show was like. Nonstop.” Keaton didn’t have to watch, continuing to plant tiny kisses across my back and shoulders, tickling with his beard. I wasn’t complaining. My skin broke out in goosebumps, dying to know the feel of him everywhere else.

But I watched the tense scene before us intently. Melanie circled nearby, giddy like a kid in a candy store.

Cassandra entered then, as the Maid of Honor, like a B-list celebrity. Not to be outdone in the spotlight, her black bikini was only strings. She gave me a once-over and a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Hope you brought your A-game, Sophie. These girls play rough,” shesnickered.

“I can handle whatever you or they dish out,” I snarled back. Keaton squeezed my arm as if reminding me I didn’t have to prove anything to them.

Cassandra coaxed Vanessa away from Starla, and they finally made their way up the aisle. A man and woman who I could only imagine must have been the parents of the bride stood to see if she was okay.

Vanessa gave assurances, then reached for Ben, who greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, taking both of her hands in his. As if they were Ken and Barbie, never had there been a more perfect pair.

If anyone thought that’d be the end of Starla’s interruptions, though, they were wrong. She reared her head again at the point of the rehearsal ceremony where the officiant mentioned the part about ‘If there is anyone present who knows of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.’

Starla ran up the aisle, screaming, “Wait! You can’t marry the father of my baby.” She threw herself into Ben’s arms in hysterics.

Vanessa’s shriek could’ve shattered glass. “You? I knew you’d pull something like this. How dare you? Get your claws off my fiancé!”

“No. It’s true,” Starla insisted, complete with her hand on her belly. “I’m having our love child.”

“You promised me you wouldn’t do this,” Ben seethed at her.

Vanessa gaped at him, shocked. “What are you talking about?”

“You know those little work trips he takes for business to L.A.? Well, let’s just say that I’ve kept him warm and satisfied in my bed for the past year. Especially since he says you’re nothing but a cold fish,” Starla gloated.

“This cannot be happening to me,” Vanessa cried, alligator-sized tears streaming down her face. “I don’t believe you. Ben? Talk to me. Tell me she’s insane.”

“I’m sorry. It’s true.” Ben hung his head. She openly wailed at the altar. A part of me felt for her situation, another part of me couldn’t believe what I was watching, as if this were simply another unbelievable, zany reality episode of Brewed for Love. IfI worked in an office, this would be the type of scene that would be all anyone talked about at the water cooler.

“I love you Bennie. Our baby is going to be the best baby ever,” Starla wrapped her arms around the very stoic groom. He hardly acknowledged her, red faced. The curtain had finally exposed him to be far from the perfect bachelor, after all.

“No. He was my Bennie, not yours.” Vanessa cried, “You’ve wanted him all along though, always texting and flirting with him, playing it off like you two are just friends. You probably got him drunk and threw yourself at him in L.A.”

Starla blinked innocently with a haughty laugh. “Oh please. He’s been fooling around on you from day one, even undressing everyone here with his eyes all afternoon. I’m doing you a favor, sweetie. You can’t handle a man like Ben and all of his many… tastes and desires.”

Ben looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Vanessa, babe, I swear she’s lying about other women. I don’t even like her.” He thrashed his hands around desperately, like a man whose days were numbered as America’s perfect bachelor.

“How could you say that when I’m carrying our child?” Starla insisted.

“You know what?” Vanessa snapped, sniffled, and straightened to her full height, and practically glowed with rage. “I don’t deserve this. I’m done. You can marry the next swimsuit that walks by. This wedding is off.” She stormed away, flipping the bird at the camera as she passed. Her parents followed quickly behind her.

“Oh, Bennie. Now you and I can get married.” Starla seemed genuinely hopeful—and oblivious. Was this all a ruse for drama’s sake or real?

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