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Vice, Virtue & Video: Devoted

Page 4

by Bianca Giovanni


  For about fifteen minutes, both mothers dissect the dress, commenting about the intricacy of the lace, the way it accentuates my collarbones and apparently, makes my neck look slender and graceful.

  “Want to try it with a veil for the full effect?” Becky volunteers.

  “Yes!” both mothers say before I have a chance to answer.

  She laughs and darts off to retrieve a veil. She returns with a soft, lace, dainty one, and I smile as she slides it into my hair. Beautiful. Shit! This is really something!

  I look back to see that both moms are now in tears, grabbing for tissues from the end table and dabbing their eyes. It’s touching. They’re really moved, and I can’t get cynical at a time like this, even though this wedding stuff would usually make me roll my eyes.

  Becky gives the three of us a few moments, darting off to put some of the rejected dresses away.

  “This is exactly the kind of dress I pictured for you,” my mom says tearfully.

  “You look so beautiful, sweetheart,” Brenda praises. “You’re going to take his breath away.”

  “You guys!” I blush and look down at my feet.

  They shower me with compliments for a while longer, and I feel bashful. I don’t know how to react when people make over me like this, and I get so shy.

  After a little while, Becky returns, and I can tell it’s time for the potentially bad news. The price.

  “Is this the one?” she asks with a big grin.

  “Yes, indeed!”

  “Good news,” she says, “it’s in your budget.”

  “What’s the damage?” I timidly inquire.

  “This one’s three thousand.”

  I gulp and shake my head a little. That’s so expensive. I don’t own anything that cost that much—well, I’m guessing my ring cost well more than that, but I’ll wear the ring every day for the rest of my life, not just for a few hours at some superfluous ceremony.

  “That’s perfect!” my mom replies, clapping her hands together. “Fifty-fifty?”

  “Absolutely,” Brenda agrees cheerfully.

  “You guys, let’s think about this,” I cautiously interject. The moms are set on this, and I don’t want to upset the apple cart.

  “Nothing to think about,” they both reply.

  “Well, wait a sec, okay? Let me just think about some of the ones we saw that were a little cheaper. Let me just consider it, all right?”

  “Fine,” my mom says with annoyance.

  “Just chill out!” I roll my eyes.

  “Want to go back to the room and see a couple of the others? Do a side-by-side?” Becky asks me.

  “Sure.” I nod.

  I step off the platform and follow her back to the room, where she lays the dresses out on the large rack.

  “I’ll give you a few minutes to yourself. No outside influences,” she says as she ducks out the door.

  I look back and forth from the dresses on the rack to the one I have on, and it’s hard to even compare them. This dress is perfect. It fits me like a glove, and I’m having a hard time even convincing myself to take it off right now. Ugh. I really don’t want the moms to spend this much money, but this dress is the one.

  Chapter 3

  James

  I FUCKIN’ HATE FISHING. It’s boring as hell, and there’s no point to it because I’ll only catch-and-release everything. Of course, my dad would love some lame-ass outdoorsy thing like this. I think he fancies himself to be some kind of mountain man, and that’s cool, but he’s so cliché about it. In the fall, he’s always got on hiking boots and a flannel shirt, and he wears a North Face jacket all winter long. We get it, Dad. You’re rugged.

  I’m sure this is another reason why he thinks I’m a pussy. I like being outside, I’ve always liked going on hikes with Lola, and I used to do a lot of rock climbing when I was younger, but I wasn’t so in-your-face about it. My dad seems to look at my long hair and penchant for female companionship as a weakness. He thinks I’ve spent so much time with girls that I’ve become a total pansy. Little does he know that I don’t give a flying fuck what he thinks, and ninety-nine percent of my time with those girls was spent between their legs. That’s not so pansy is it, old man?

  Jonathan doesn’t seem too thrilled to be dragged into this bullshit either, but he’s trying to be all chipper and suck up to Dad. He was always better at fishing than me. In fact, he was always a lot more like Dad in general than I was. I was the baby, so I spent more time with my mom, and I think that’s why I took after her more.

  We’ve got fishing poles, lures, Dad’s got a tackle box, and Jonathan’s wife, Lisa, made sandwiches for us. There’s a cooler with beers in the Tahoe, and I’m all too happy to crack one open before we wade out a little bit and cast our lines. Christ, I’m already bored.

  “So, man, how are you liking married life?” Jonathan asks me.

  “Lovin’ it. Lola’s seriously the best girl ever. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”

  I swear to God, I hear my dad scoff, but I ignore it.

  “That’s great, bro,” Jonathan says. “I gotta say, I wasn’t that surprised when Mom told me you guys got married in Vegas. I was like, ‘Well shit, Mom, he’s totally had a crush on her since they were kids.’”

  “It seems like everybody realized that but me,” I reply with a laugh.

  “You were such a dork around her. It was plain as day. Probably why she escaped the tally,” he adds, referring to my long, long list of previous hookups.

  “I did put up some pretty major numbers in high school,” I smugly admit.

  “Even I was impressed,” he jokes, patting my shoulder.

  I’m not sure exactly why he’s being so nice to me, but it’s kind of cool to be “pals” with Jonathan. We’ve never been very close, and he was always so damn competitive that I never liked hanging out with him. He had to be the best at everything, and I was cool with just being decent at most things. The only area where I topped him was in the chick department, and I kind of liked that he was secretly jealous of my abilities. He’s never admitted it, but sometimes I think he wishes that he hadn’t started dating Lisa his sophomore year and that he got to have the wild, sex-filled high school experience I had. He never would have actually done it, though. That would have made Dad think he was a fuckup like me.

  “So, dude, how have things been since we last spoke?” I ask him. We talk occasionally on Facebook or via text, but we haven’t actually been in the same city in years.

  “Great, man, really great,” he replies. “Sold a big place up on seventh a little while back, and I’ve got some major ones on the market now. Kind of tough, you know, economy and all that. People aren’t exactly looking to drop a million on real estate right now.”

  I nod my head in agreement, but I don’t mention anything about the cash I’ve been making from my sex toy line. I’m not sure he or my parents realize what kind of money I have, and I don’t even want to start on that subject.

  “He’s the top agent at Everleigh,” Dad chimes in, stepping over closer to us. “They love him down there.”

  I try not to roll my eyes. My dad’s always big-upping Jonathan like it’s his fuckin’ job. I’m not sure if Jonathan is actually the fuckin’ employee of the month at Everleigh Real Estate Group, but in my dad’s mind he’s the goddamn CEO.

  “That’s great. Good for you,” I say, trying to turn my attention away from my disapproving father.

  “He’s done real well for himself,” he keeps going.

  “Yeah, sure has.” I’m really hoping my voice doesn’t sound as annoyed as I am.

  “Good family, good job,” Dad continues. “Your mother and I are both very proud of him.”

  My jaw clenches as I try to fight back the tirade I want to launch at him right now. Fuck you, Dad. You haven’t talked to me since I was twenty and now you want to judge me?

  “He’s doing something with his life. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Boogie Nights?�
� he remarks in a mean-spirited tease.

  “Dad, come on,” Jonathan says, surprisingly coming to my defense. “Lay off him, all right? He’s doing well too.”

  “Yeah, fine.” Dad shrugs and looks back out toward the water.

  Well, this is certainly going to be a fun afternoon.

  About an hour later Jonathan has racked up two fish, but Dad’s got four and thinks he’s the shit. I have none, which is also the approximate number of fucks I give about this whole thing.

  “Hand me another beer, son,” Dad calls to Jonathan as he goes to the cooler. “Hey, Johnny Wadd, you want one too?” he says to me with a smirk.

  Whatever, Dad. John Holmes was the first male porn superstar, so your little barb isn’t going to bug me. And way to use a reference from the fuckin’ nineteen seventies. You couldn’t go with someone a little more recent?

  “No, thanks,” I calmly reply.

  Jonathan grabs me a Vitamin Water instead, and as I take it from him, I feel the tension in my shoulders from my repressed anger. I don’t want to let my fuckin’ father get under my skin, but he is and I’m pissed at myself for caring.

  I take this opportunity to grab my phone from the car. I barely get one bar of signal up here, but I decide to text Lola, just to make myself feel a little better. She always has that effect on me.

  After a cute exchange, I learn that she hasn’t found the dress just yet, but I tell her that I’m sure she looks hot in all of them. Lola could wear a fuckin’ trash bag and still be the hottest girl in the room. She asks me about my dad, shit like that, and then she drops a bomb. Apparently, Becky Callahan, one of my sort-of former girlfriends, works at the bridal place, and she’s Lola’s bridal consultant.

  Immediately, images flash in my head of the wild sex I used to have with Becky. Even by porn standards, that girl was freaky as hell. She was the first girl I ever tied up, first one I ever spanked, first girl to let me fuck her in the ass, and the first one to deep-throat my cock until she was gagging and gasping for breath. Becky was one of the all-around horniest chicks I’ve ever met. She was way into submission, and she liked when I’d take charge and boss her around in bed. She used to want me to call her “filthy slut” and “dirty little whore” when we fucked, and sometimes she’d call me Master James. It was insane. She was fuckin’ awesome!

  I ask Lola about her, and she gets adorably jealous. I can just picture the cute blush on her cheeks when I start teasing her that I’m imagining her and Becky getting into some kinky girl-on-girl action in the dressing room. I was just joking around, but the image of it was pretty hot, and I can feel my body start revving up. Thankfully, I get my shit together and clear my wayward thoughts.

  “So, how’s Lola been these days?” Dad asks me when I wade back in. “When I saw her a few months ago, it seemed like she wasn’t too happy with you.”

  Deep breath. He’s trying to rile you up. The last time he saw Lola was after I fucked up monumentally and kinda-sorta secretly filmed a sex tape with her for Eva Satana. Lola was more pissed off than I’d ever seen her—rightfully so—and she fled to her mom’s house just to get away from me. She told me she bumped into my dad and that he asked about me, but she was so pissed at the time that I’m guessing she didn’t have a lot of good things to say about me. Naturally, Dad would lock onto that part of their conversation.

  “Yeah, we’d had a pretty big fight,” I reply, “but we made up right after that.” We made up over and over and over again, in multiple positions. So hot!

  “You should be more careful with her,” Dad misguidedly advises. “She’s a good girl, James. She deserves a good man. A faithful man.”

  I glare at him, nearly pushed over the edge. Implying that I won’t be faithful to the love of my life? Now that is some bullshit!

  “She’s so smart, and she’s a real sweetheart. I’d hate to see her get her heartbroken because she chose the wrong person to spend her life with.”

  “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” I snap.

  “Just what I said,” he replies with a scowl. “Just that I hope she didn’t choose the wrong person.”

  “Okay, let’s all just calm down,” Jonathan says when I take a step closer to my dad and stare him down.

  Father or not, I will kick somebody’s ass if they talk about my relationship with Lola like that. What an asshole!

  “Everybody just let it go, all right?” Jonathan continues. “We’re all up here fishing and just chilling out, so nobody needs to go crazy.”

  I shake my head and look away. He’s right. I need to just let this slide. I knew my dad would pull some shit like this, but I can’t let it get to me. He doesn’t know about my relationship with Lola—hell, he barely knows me at all—so he’s just talking out his ass.

  “Maybe we should head back to town pretty soon,” Jonathan says, still trying to smooth things over. “I have a couple places up on the ridge that I’d love to show you, just so you could see what a baller your big brother is.”

  I force a laugh at his attempted joke, but I give him a nod. Even though I hate the idea of listening to Jonathan brag about how he’s apparently the best Realtor to ever live, I hate the idea of spending time with my father a thousand times more, so I agree to it.

  “How about some lunch, huh?” Jonathan offers. “Lisa made subs. They’re delicious.”

  I have to smile a little bit at him playing mediator. In the past, he would have sided with my dad and made me feel like shit all afternoon, but he’s being way less of a dick than normal right now. Maybe he’s turned over a new leaf, and Dickish Arrogant Prick Jonathan is a thing of the past.

  He’s right, Lisa’s sandwiches are really good, and I scoop up a roast beef with melted provolone. I can tell I’m eating faster than normal because I’m hoping we can wrap this whole trip up after lunch.

  Sure enough, Jonathan makes up some excuse, and I’m incredibly grateful as we hop back in the Jeep and drive home.

  Dad parks next to Jonathan’s Benz and gives me a very short goodbye before going back inside.

  “Don’t worry about him, man,” my brother says. “He’s stubborn like that.”

  “I know,” I reply with a shrug. “I’m starting to remember why I haven’t talked to him in six years.”

  Jonathan chuckles and pats my back. “Let me show you these houses. Take your mind off things.”

  “Lola’s still at the bridal place, and I want to swing by there.”

  “Won’t take too long.”

  “Yeah, all right.” I sigh as we get into his car, and I try to shake off all the bad vibes.

  Chapter 4

  Lola

  THERE’S A KNOCK ON THE DOOR, and I assume it’s Becky so I invite her in while I stare at my reflection and contemplate dresses.

  The door opens, and in walks my handsome husband. He’s in jeans and a T-shirt, his hair pulled back in a messy bun. He’s a little more tan from being out in the sun all morning, and his teeth look extra white as he smiles at me. I can tell that his day with his father was about as pleasant as a root canal, but all his tension seems to dissipate when he sees me.

  “Is this the one?” he asks.

  “I think so,” I timidly reply, blushing from head to toe at that awestruck look in his eyes.

  “God, Lo, you look so beautiful!”

  I feel so demure and shy as he takes a step closer to me. I try to avoid his gaze, but he takes my face tenderly in his hands and tilts my head up so I’ll look at him.

  “Nothing on earth is as beautiful as you,” he whispers. “You could take a double rainbow over a waterfall, at sunset, while the aurora borealis is going on overhead, and it would fuckin’ pale in comparison.”

  I laugh loudly and wrap my arms around his hips, pulling closer until my cheek is to his chest.

  I hear him softly sigh, and he wraps his arms around me, gently stroking the exposed section of my back from the nape of my neck to the midpoint of my shoulder blades.

  “My fir
st love. My only love,” he whispers, almost inaudibly. “My heart.”

  His words make me melt, and I completely relax into him.

  “I love you, James, and I will forever,” I vow to him, squeezing him tightly.

  There’s a knock at the door, and both of us turn to look up as Becky enters the room, looking down at the two veils in her hand.

  “Oh, my God!” She stops in her tracks when she sees James. “Oh, my God! Oh, wow! Oh, my God!” she exclaims, her squeals of delight getting higher with each word.

  He chuckles at her shock, and her smile stretches halfway around the globe as she blushes.

  “Come here!” he says warmly as he reaches out to encase her in a big hug.

  I’m snickering as she giggles uncontrollably and clings to him. She’s much taller than me, but still small in his grasp, and she stands on her tiptoes to rest her chin on his shoulder as she gives him a squeeze.

  “I wasn’t expecting this! When Lola told me you were the groom, I was so amazed. I didn’t think you’d be coming down here.”

  “I wanted to see what she picked out,” he replies with a smile as they part from the hug.

  “You know you’re not supposed to see the bride in her dress before the wedding day,” she playfully chastises him.

  “Well, technically the wedding day was a few weeks back,” he says, looking adorably guilty.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’re already married. We did it in Vegas a little while ago,” he clarifies.

  “Get outta here! She didn’t tell me that.”

  “Eh, it’s a long story.” He shrugs. “Technically, we’re married, but we gotta have something for the families, you know?”

  “Wow! Well congratulations,” she says, patting his shoulder.

  “Thanks, Beck.”

  “Doesn’t she look gorgeous?” she comments, looking at me.

  “Stunning!” he vehemently agrees.

  “I knew she’d like this one,” Becky replies, putting her arm around him and looking up into his eyes. “It fits her beautifully.”

  Normally, I’d get jealous right about now, but neither of their body language is conveying that lusty drive they had in high school. They just seem like old friends, buddies, pals.

 

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