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Hi. Marry Me Page 9


  “You take the limo, then, and head over,” said Tony.

  Diana looked at what she was wearing. She shrugged. “Sure,” she said.

  “I can pick up some of the necessities for home, then,” said Tony. “If you trust me to make design choices.”

  “I think you’d probably know better than me what those are,” said Diana.

  “Debatable,” said Tony, smiling.

  “Well, either way, I look forward to being surprised.”

  “I’ll remind you that you said that,” said Tony. “So—you take the car, I’ll see you after. He leaned over to kiss Diana on the cheek, and it both took them by surprise how easy and natural this felt. Diana blushed anyway, and then she ran back to pragmatic matters. This was often her security blanket.

  “Ah,” she said, “Wait. If I’m taking the car, how are you going to get home?”

  “We’re not that far, I could walk. Or I’ll just call the car service and get another driver out here in five minutes. Don’t worry about me. Head over to your friend’s, and let me know when you’re on your way home.”

  “Okay,” said Diana. She paused again. “Don’t feel like you have to wait up or anything,” she said, awkwardly.

  “I know, I know. You’ve got keys, you’re a big girl, you’ll be fine.”

  Diana rolled her eyes. “See you later.”

  “See you.”

  Tony hopped out of the car. Diana waved at him and then instructed the driver to take her to the restaurant her friend had indicated.

  Diana felt lucky—for many reasons, but at that specific point in time, she felt lucky because tonight’s affair, despite the name, was going to be relatively low-key. They’d already taken Joy out on her pub crawl, they’d already done the tiara and the sash and the drunken screaming about being a bride. For this, Joy’s last party with her half of the wedding party prior to the wedding, Joy had requested that they just have a calm dinner and follow it up with drinks at her home. Diana had been only too happy to agree to this.

  When the limo pulled up in front of the Mexican restaurant Joy had chosen, Diana hoped that she'd beat her friends there—or that they weren’t looking out the window when she pulled up. As it turned out, she didn’t have to worry about that. She gave her name to the hostess and then was taken back through a winding series of tables and chairs to a large party room at the back of the restaurant.

  “Diana,” screamed several women. Diana smiled. The margaritas had already being flowing, apparently.

  “Hey, everyone,” she said, swanning into the room. One of the chairs near Joy was empty. Diana fell into it.

  “How are you doing,” she asked Joy. Joy was giggly. “Excited to be here,” she said. “I’m getting married so soon, Diana!”

  Diana smiled. “How long have you guys been here?”

  “Only about twenty minutes.”

  “Seems like I have some catching up to do, then,” said Diana gamely. She ordered herself a margarita. “A toast to the bride,” she said. Everyone held up their glasses and looked at her expectantly. She blinked for a moment or two before saying, “Eh, I really didn’t have anything special to say, I just wanted a margarita.” Everyone laughed, but it still seemed like they were expecting something. Diana was not a public speaker. She managed to say, “To Joy,” and then she downed her drink.

  The dinner passed relatively interestingly and with little incident. At one point the women went around the table and recounted the best or cutest memory they had about the bride and groom, or made one up if they'd never met Joy’s intended. It was very unlikely that Joy would have noticed. As games like these had already been played at the other several parties they'd had in Joy’s honor, Diana found herself zoning out a little bit.

  After this, it was time for them to head back to Joy’s house. Diana hung back after the party left, hoping to dash to her limo without attracting too much attention. She’d really have to talk to Tony and see if the car service had anything less notable for her use, once she was added to the car service.

  She said good-bye to her friends on the curb, promising to meet up with them just a few minutes later. She sighed, relatively certain that she had pulled her plan off. It was not to be so.

  “Hey, guys, look! A limo!” Joy pointed at it even as she was being pulled off to the other car. “No big deal, Joy, there’s probably just some dignitary or movie star eating here tonight, it’s a hot spot.”

  Diana was thankful that one of Joy’s other bridesmaids was having the sense to pull her away from this spectacle.

  “Yeah, come on, Joy,” said another. “Famous people like that never want to have people staring at them.”

  “No, I wanna watch,” said Joy.

  “She is the bride,” said the assembled bridesmaids, sighing. Joy went to sit at an outdoor table and propped up a menu behind which to people watch.

  Diana sighed. There was nothing for it. She knew Joy, and she knew there was little chance of Joy’s abandoning her post before she saw what she wanted to see.

  After a few minutes of tense waiting, Diana walked forward and got in the limo. She could hear her friends shouting in the distance. She hadn’t wanted to go and explain it to them. Of course, now she realized that she’d have even more explaining to do once she got to Joy’s house. With a pang, she realized that she could have pulled Joy into the limo and pretended it was some sort of uber extravagant gift—as well as, under the circumstances, a nice thing for her to do for her friend.

  She was learning. She’d figure it out. She gave the limo driver the address, and then she pulled out her phone to text Tony.

  Hey, she wrote. Just FYI, all of my bridesmaids are very interested in knowing why I just climbed into a limo after dinner.

  Three bubbles popped up. Tell them that you’re having an affair with a mysterious international man with tons of power and money, obviously.

  I’ll do that. Maybe I’ll just tell them enough strange stories so they won’t be able to distinguish the truth.

  Two truths and a lie…I like it. Of course, you don’t want to steal the bride’s thunder.

  Diana let her phone fall to the seat. She hadn’t thought of that. But of course—Joy might put a good face on it, she might say she understood, but with her wedding approaching in only a few weeks, it might totally look bad if Diana were to drop news of her already-happened wedding at a Joy-centric event.

  Diana had no idea what she was going to do.

  The limo pulled up to her friends’ house. She'd beat them there. She rolled down the partition to speak with her driver.

  “Hey,” she said. “I might be in there a while—but I think I’m going to want a quick way out.”

  “A getaway car?”

  “Precisely,” said Diana. She hated that she loved that. “So—can I ask you to be available in, say, three hours? I can give you a call.”

  “No worries, ma’am. I can park around the corner, and when you need me, just send me a text and I’ll be right over.”

  “You don’t mind?” This seemed like a large commitment to Diana.

  “Your husband pays me very well to just sit and watch TV, ma’am,” said the driver.

  Diana hadn’t thought of that. “What are you watching tonight?”

  “A documentary on childbirth. My wife’s expecting.”

  “Ah,” said Diana. “Well, good luck with that.”

  “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

  With that exchange, Diana hurried to go knock on the door. It seemed that her friends had showed up while she was speaking with her driver; and they were quick to notice the limo slithering away in the night.

  “So,” said Joy, pulling her inside. “I think you have some explaining to do.”

  “No, no,” said Diana, protesting. “Tonight is your night. Let me get everyone a drink.”

  She stumbled into the living room, where the bridesmaids had set up a table filled with every sort o
f alcohol one could imagine.

  “I don’t think you’re going to be able to evade the question that easily,” said Joy. She did, however, accept the randomly mixed drink which Diana handed her in an attempt to ward unwanted questions off. Diana was not a bartender. Joy took a sip, wrinkled her nose, but then surprisingly took a second sip.

  “So, we saw the limo.”

  Diana was at least aware of this. She nodded. She grabbed a bottle of water to hide behind. Unfortunately, water bottles are tiny and clear and rather hard to hide behind.

  “So…I’ve recently come into some money,” said Diana. “Family matters.”

  She inwardly cursed herself and Tony for sending her in the most ostentatious car on the planet. Joy waved this away.

  “You forget that I know you, Diana, and I’ve known your family for ages. I know there’s no rich uncle, or whatever you’re trying to insinuate.”

  Diana had forgotten that. She took a long swig of water. She looked her friend in the eye and realized that she’d be doing more harm than good by telling lies…and that she’d likely only draw the conversation about her out unnecessarily by playing hard to get. She might as well just end the query so that she could help steer the conversation back toward Joy and her upcoming wedding.

  “So, um, no big deal,” she said, as conversationally as possible. This attempt failed. Her voice cracked. “I got married.”

  For a moment, there was complete quiet in the room. And then there was pandemonium. There were immediately six women scrabbling for Diana’s left hand. When it was quickly ascertained that there was nothing there, Joy looked up at Diana, confusion writ all over her face.

  “No ring?”

  For the second time in two minutes, Diana cursed both Tony and her past self. Why hadn’t they thought to get a ring? She had a limo, but not a ring?

  “Um, I didn't wear it today,” she said.

  “And he’s loaded,” said one of the bridesmaids. Diana imagined that she tried to keep the animosity out of her voice.

  “A bit, yeah,” said Diana. “He’s the guy from LoveMatches—Tony Miran?”

  Pandemonium ensued for the second and not last time that evening.

  When the room quieted down, Joy looked at Diana and asked, simply, that Diana tell the story of what happened.

  Diana rolled a bit of hair around her index finger. “Well,” she said. “I was getting ready to teach on Sunday, and I got a notification from that new app—LoveMatches…”

  When she was done telling her story, there was a hush over the room.

  “It’s a modern day Cinderella story,” said one woman.

  “I think I’m going to grant you dibs on hosting the next party.”

  “Yeah, I really want to see your new digs,” said another woman, one whom Diana barely knew.

  Joy, who was sitting right next to her and had sat quietly through the entire retelling, looked at her friend with concern in her eyes. “I only want to know one thing, Diana,” said Joy. “Are you happy? It seems like this happened awfully fast; it seems like there might even be a chance that this marriage was foisted upon you instead of it being something you necessarily chose. Even though you’re married, technically you could get out of it—especially if you haven’t done anything physical—“

  “No, we haven’t,” said Diana, quickly. The group oohed.

  “Well, that’s equally weird,” said Joy. “You guys are married.”

  “But we also just met,” Diana pointed out. “So even though we’re doing marriage-y things like buying homes and such—which, I’ll point out, is only even a thing because my husband has a lot of money—we’re still getting to know each other. It’s a weird hybrid; like we’re dating, but also an old married couple.”

  The group didn't know what to do with this.

  “It’s weird,” Diana said, correctly assessing with and agreeing with their silence. “But I think I’m happy; I know I’m okay with it, and I’m looking forward to whatever it becomes in the future.”

  “Which will be—like—a real marriage? Not one for publicity or money or whatever?” Joy’s brow was still furrowed.

  “It will absolutely be just like a real marriage, because it is a real marriage,” Diana said, smoothing Joy’s hair over her head. “Keep it simple, and don’t worry about us, we’re doing fine. And, anyway, you’ll see for yourself. We’ll have all of you guys over soon, just as soon as we have furniture. Right now we only have our old stuff, which looks tiny in the new place, and this random grand piano.”

  “Can either of you play piano?”

  “We’ll have to learn, I suppose,” said Diana, laughing. “Now, that’s entirely too much about me. I seem to remember that this is Joy’s night—as she’s getting married in just a few weeks! So, here’s to the bride, again,” said Diana. “Let’s have an awesome night, ladies.”

  They talked and laughed and played a trivia games about the bride and groom, which made them talk and laugh even more. Tiaras were worn by all, and several drinks were had by many. Diana mostly stuck to water. She wasn’t driving, but she didn’t want to say or do anything which made the evening even more awkward than it had been.

  When it came up on 11 o’clock, she pulled out her phone and sent a quick text. Once she saw that it had been read—which happened instantly—she stood up.

  “Joy, this has been fantastic,” she said, quietly. “I think I need to head out; it’s been a long day. But I was so excited to be able to spend some time with you today,” she said.

  “Oh, Diana,” Joy said, and she flung her hands around Diana’s waist. “I just hope that you’re happy. You’re not a very spontaneous person, and this just seems like the most far-flung thing you’ve ever done.”

  “You’re not wrong, there,” said Diana, smiling. “It is very weird. But on the plus side, I get to go home to a beautiful new home instead of my tiny studio, and my husband is probably up waiting for me even though I told him not to. It’s a nice thing.”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” said Joy. “You seem more relaxed than I’ve ever seen you.”

  “Well, there could be many reasons for that,” said Diana.

  “Sure, sure,” said Joy. “Or it could be the one super obvious reason.”

  Diana chuckled. “How about we get coffee, just the two of us, sometime next week? I can help you write thank you notes, or sit there if you need to rant about wedding stuff, or whatever you need.”

  “That sounds lovely. I’ll call you,” said Joy. “And—wow—you really weren’t kidding about ranting, that might be all I do, I won’t even let you get a word in edgewise. You guys were smart to just—wait. How did you get married?”

  “We just went to the courthouse.”

  “Fantastic. No muss, no fuss. Whereas my fiancé and I are spending thousands and thousands of dollars to throw a fiasco which everyone will resent for years and years to come.”

  “It won’t be that bad.”

  “But it will.”

  “Hey,” said Diana. “No more negativity until we rant next week.”

  “Sounds like a deal,” said Joy.

  Diana bid her friend a good night and headed out the door. The limo was glistening in the darkness, its engine the only thing she could hear as it hummed lowly in the night. She let herself in.

  “Good evening, Diana,” said the driver.

  “Good evening,” said Diana. “How was the documentary?”

  “Oh, that,” said the driver. “I fell asleep during it, if you must know.”

  “That bad?”

  “Long day,” said the driver, yawning.

  Immediately Diana felt badly for keeping him out so late. “Oh, I am so sorry,” she exclaimed. “I wasn’t thinking—I should have just—”

  “No, no, don’t worry,” said the driver. “In fact, stay later next time. We get paid handsomely for these off-time hours. I’m going to take the wife to Malibu this weekend.”

&nb
sp; “Well, okay, then,” said Diana, laughing. “If you could just take me home, first, that would be great.”

  “That I can do, ma’am,” said the driver, and he sped off into the night.

  Diana almost fell asleep fifteen times in the fifteen minute drive back to her and Tony’s new home. The day had been exhausting—but, more than that the week had been exhausting. Diana had woken up that Sunday morning believing that she knew exactly what drama that life would bring to her that week. She'd expected that she was going to spend the week slogging around with her students and getting her fingers burned in amateur chemistry experiments. She thought that she would be eating rubbery waffles in the cafeteria and monitoring playground fights. She thought that she would be coming home at the end of those very long, fulfilling but excruciating workdays and slumping down on her own couch, which was so thin and lumpy that one could feel the wooden frame through it. She thought that she would go glassy-eyed while watching season after season of trashy reality TV while eating container after container of salty takeout, simultaneously watching her checking account run dry. After all of that, she imagined that she would fall wide-eyed into a comatose state in bed, having done very little to improve her life or anyone else’s in the hours after school, and just prepare to get up the next morning and do it all over again.

  After Sunday evening, very little of that had come to pass. She found herself here, on the opposite side of that strange week, a married woman, living in a beautiful house, in a position to do wonderful things for her friends. It occurred to her, as she drifted off, that what Tony had said—that all that was his was hers—did put her in a position to do some small amount of good for the world. In fact, she could do that, and buy some Louboutins. It would be a win-win situation, she thought sleepily.

  When the limo parked in the garage next to their home and the driver, who was thankfully far more alert than she, walked to the back to help her out of the back, she gave him a hug, to his great surprise. She then unlocked the front door and walked into the house. Tony was sitting on the couch in the front room.