Page 35 of The Press Secretary's Passion
Chapter 11
Jules’s turn
Las Vegas, Nevada
I’m a little tipsy.
Okay, I’m more than a little tipsy. I’m drunk.
Last week, when Rick told Jake that he was marrying Cara this weekend, Jake told Grace, because that’s apparently what married people do. And then Grace told me, as besties do. And then Grace, Carter, and I planned the Vegas wedding of a lifetime. The theme is Classic Vegas. I had no idea what that was, having been raised on the Upper East Side, but I know class.
The three of us planned every detail.
When Rachel said she wanted pink dresses for her and her mom, we found the most gorgeous rose-gold beaded dress. It’s not the typical wedding dress, but then again, this isn’t your typical wedding. And we topped it with a leather jacket for after that has a rock-and-roll design Cara hand-painted on the back. It’s totally fitting for a fashion stylist to wear after her wedding.
It’s going to be soft candles, music, champagne, and all the people Rick and Cara are close to. And we have a surprise for them. When Rick told us they were married by an Elvis impersonator years ago, we decided that with all the class and style we were giving them, we’d also give them a little Vegas flair and a walk down memory lane at the same time.
We flew in yesterday and hit the ground running to our luxury suites at the Paris Hotel and Casino. Jake couldn’t come with us for obvious reasons. He flew in only an hour ago with his entourage, which is really the groom’s entourage. We brought Cara and Rachel with us. Rachel was having the time of her life with Gus down in the arcade while we made sure all our plans were in place. And they were.
I can’t wait to see her walk down the aisle in it tomorrow. It’s going to be perfect.
Now we’re all in a private room for VIPs in the best steakhouse in Vegas. It’s off the strip and a local hotspot, so you know it’s fantastic. I enjoyed a perfect dinner complete with four vodka martinis with blue cheese olives and great company. I forgot how much I missed our regular girls’ nights with Grace.
“This has been so much fun,” I say after Grace tells another tall tale from our days at NYU.
“I forgot how much I missed our regular LBD dinners,” Grace replies.
“LBD?” Ryan asks.
“Little Black Dress,” Grace answers. “We used to get dressed up and go out to dinner and catch up every other Saturday.”
“Life got intense,” I insert, shrugging off the feeling that life is passing me by. But tonight is not about me, and I’m not going to let it be either. “Speaking of intense. The town car should be here in twenty minutes to take you to the courthouse for your marriage license. You have all the documents, right?”
“Yes,” Cara says, but Rick interrupts her, looking a little sheepish.
“We won’t be needing them.”
I swear to God you can hear a pin drop. Cara’s face goes pale, and I can see she’s thinking what we all thought, which is crazy. Rick won’t leave her at the altar, will he? I never would have thought he’d be the kind of guy to do it; then again, I never thought he’d be the kind of guy to have a secret wife and daughter either.
I look around the table and see shocked faces on everyone. That is on everyone except Jake, who is smiling like a lunatic.
“Why won’t we need our documents to get a marriage license?” Cara asks quietly.
“Because we won’t be getting a marriage license,” he answers with a stupid smile on his face and a wild look in his eyes.
“Why not?” she murmurs calmly.
“Because we don’t need one.”
“Now, excuse me—” Grace wades in, going all mama bear for our girl.
“That’s right—” I add, but Rick cuts us both off.
“We don’t need one, because we’re already married.” He drops that bomb on the table.
“Honey,” Cara says, clearly thinking her intended is drunker than he seems. “I signed divorce papers before they were served to you.”
“I know,” he says, still smiling like an idiot.
