The Will to Love (20 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Laurel

THE FOLLOWING DAY, Will and I gathered at The Little White Chapel with my parents, his parents and his siblings—who’d flown in on a red-eye flight—Grant, and Sasha.

Grant was the best man and Sasha was the maid of honor.

I wore a simple ivory silk dress which barely fell below my knees and a pair of matching Yves Saint Laurent five-inch heels.

My sister helped me put my hair up in a pretty chignon while I did my make up with shaky fingers.

She stood next to me and grabbed my hand. “Listen, I’m sorry. I know it won’t erase the shitty move I tried to pull and I know we’re always going to fight like cats and dogs but I need you to forgive me for my reckless behavior.”

I turned toward her. “Sweetie, I forgave you a long time ago. Can you forgive me for not being perfect? I’m sorry I couldn’t follow in your footsteps. I apologize for being a selfish, shitty sister who only cared about having a good time. I was so…shallow and I don’t want us to have an acrimonious relationship. I hate it. I just want it to be like it was when we were kids before teenage hormones ruined everything between us.”

Sasha tried to stop the tears in her eyes before I embraced her and kissed her forehead. “You’re still my older sister and I love you so much. Thank you for being here for this occasion.”

There was a knock at the door and Grant walked in before he closed the door. “We gotta get this show on the road. There’s another wedding after you two and both Will and I have to get to Vogue Hotel and Casino. There’s a run-through for tonight. Did I mention you two are supposed to be there too?”

Sasha gazed at me, and rolled her eyes before we both laughed out loud.

Of course, she had to out-do me, even at my own wedding. Her maid of honor dress was magenta silk overlaid with lace and a pair of magenta and black Christian Louboutin four-inch heels. Her hair was also up and her makeup understated yet perfect for the occasion.

“Let’s do this. You know when to come out, right? Dad is right outside the door and when the cheesy music begins to play then you meet up with him and he walks you down the aisle. Now Grant and I have to have a lavish, over the top million-dollar wedding just to scrub the whole distaste from you and Will getting married at a
common
Vegas chapel on New Year’s Eve. Mom was scared to sit down—can you imagine?”

“Actually, I can.”

Sasha touched my cheek softly before she turned and left.

The door closed behind her and I looked in the mirror one more time. I looked beautiful and I could do this. It was no sweat and I was marrying the man I loved with all my heart and soul.

I balled my hands into fists and then released them quickly. All the tension left my body and I instantly felt better.

The music began to play and I walked toward the door and opened it.

I couldn’t get to my father fast enough. I couldn’t wait for him to walk me down the aisle and hand me over to Will. How could I be nervous about marrying him when he was all I wanted?

By the time I joined arms with my father, he stared at me and smiled brightly. He reminded me of an older version Will with his silver-blond hair and sky-blue eyes, tall build and lean frame. He was still in great shape in his mid-fifties.

My mother looked uncomfortable next to Will’s family in her expensive cherry-red Chanel suit and matching three inch heels. She reminded me of an ethnic-looking Anna Wintour; her perfectly styled chocolate-brown bob was perfectly coiffed, she wore expensive Dior sunglasses indoors, hiding the disapproval in her amber brown eyes and although her honey-colored skin glowed and made her look much younger than her fifty years, she had one of those ageless appearances.

My parents were “perfect on paper” but it was living with them that had been the hard part.

Although Will came from a respectable family, they weren’t “our kind”; moneyed, high-society or East Coast. It didn’t matter how much money Will was worth now.

“
New
money,” my mother would sneer as if we were still living in the dark ages and one generation from being upper middle-class was too close to the proletariat, or “commoners.”

I smiled at her brightly and she looked away quickly before she shook her head sadly.

My father and I finally reached the altar; he glared at Will coldly and whispered to my fiancé, “You break my daughter’s heart and I’ll slice your pansy cock off.”

Will stared back in return before he said in a low voice, “I would never do that, sir. Laurel is my life.”

“You better damn well mean that. Remember, she’s half Viking and I’m a full blood—I’m not afraid to spill a little
common
, Celtic blood. We did it for centuries…remember that when the urge to leave my daughter for a man enters your mind.”

“Papa!” I exclaimed quietly. “Stop it this instant.”

My father smirked before he stepped back and the minister who married us was pleasant enough. I just wanted him to hurry up and from the way he spoke, he worried our wedding would clash with the one following it.

“With the power vested in me by the State of Nevada, I declare you two husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

Will wrapped me in his arms and kissed me deeply, tongue included and I grabbed the back of his head as I felt the heat of our union as much as he did.

My mother cleared her throat loudly and we realized we weren’t alone.

We stopped our public display of affection and kissed chastely on the lips again before there was a modest amount of clapping.

There were two limousines waiting outside, one for our family and the other for the four of us who were all due at Vogue Hotel and Casino.

I bid good bye to my parents and Will did the same. The reception would be held on New Year’s Day where the whole band and our friends would be attending. Rory insisted it be at Vogue Hotel and Casino therefore my mother wouldn’t be such an uptight bitch since Syd’s mother and grandfather would be there. We would have a fair share of attendants from our crowd and social circle to commiserate and satisfy her craving for “her kind of people.”

“I hope you’re happy now.” Mother didn’t bother to remove her oversized, chic sunglasses. “At least you’re married and you won’t be spreading your legs for every man who wants a piece. Have a good night at your New Year’s Eve party.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

She pecked my cheek quickly before my father led her into the limo and we walked to ours where the paparazzi was gathered and busy snapping as many photos as they could. We ignored them and didn’t answer any questions from them as Sasha politely explained there would be a small press conference the following day.

“Thanks. Ugh, they drive me crazy.” I sighed and settled in next to Will in the limo.

“It’s my job.” Sasha smiled slightly. “Mom will come around. She’s always been a bit hard to please. You know that.”

I rolled my eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I AM SO fuckin’ pissed at you! You invite your family but I’m your best friend and you were in my wedding. What the fuck was that? You get married and I don’t even get to witness it? That’s not fair, Laurel.”

I stopped photographing sexy, neo-soul star Damian Phillips, who happened to be a tall drink of water with wheat blond hair and gorgeous blue eyes who rehearsed on the stage. Syd was genuinely pissed because her eyes had gone almost completely gray and although she looked gorgeous in a pair of blue skinny jeans and a scarlet vicuña sweater, her anger outweighed pretty much everything else right now, including my ability to photograph.

“Are you serious? I just wanted to get it over with and we barely managed to get everything done in time. It was a quickie but we’re having a lavish reception here tomorrow. The hotel’s paying so free booze and all our friends and family will be attending, you included.” I picked up my camera and began to take a few more photos of Damian Phillips.

She crossed her arms against her chest. “That’s not the same thing and you know it. I understand your parents are in town but I also know your mother is a bitch on wheels. I could have been there for you—”

“She would have fainted if she glimpsed a tattoo, Syd. The woman is beyond a social snob. She’s got some kind of allergy to people who don’t make
Fortune
and
Forbes
yearly social register, also known as the ‘net worth’ issues for those magazines. I try not to subject my real friends to her more than necessary. She’s gotten worse over the years.”

“I find that hard to believe.” My best friend reached into her oversized Louis Vuitton hobo bag and pulled out a flask. “It’s Grey Goose. You want some?”

“Hell yes.” I grabbed it from her hands, opened the container and took a long swallow. “I don’t know how I’m gonna make it through the day without not wanting to attack Will.”

“Hey, you two can fuck tonight after the concert. He’s not going anywhere.”

“True.”

We both looked at one another and laughed out loud. Syd finished the vodka in the flask. “Fuck, they don’t hold much, do they? Looks like I am gonna have to go get us some real drinks. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

I smiled at nothing or no one in particular as I looked towards the stage.