The Billionaire’s Marriage Of Deception

Michael closed the window, heard the wrench of the back screen door, the thump of Amanda’s sneakers on the bare wood stairs, the rattle of the bathroom door, everything loud and noisy and unrestrained. He moved to lean against the bathroom door frame, unconsciously posing, legs crossed and arms folded as he watched Amanda splash cold water over her face, skin flushed and damp from her run.

Afterward, it took them a while to remember how to breathe.

*****

“I want to do a new ceremony,” Michael said the next morning at breakfast as he ate his cereal and read news on the Valentine trial. Rumors of a prosecution eye witness were rife. It was said that Valentine’s fixer, one Finley McNamara had turned state’s evidence. That, together with the other witness they had was likely to ensure that Valentine was given a maximum sentence. He would probably be in jail for the rest of his life.

“What ceremony?” Amanda asked distractedly. She was busy texting with her assistant about a possible new supplier out of New Jersey. He apparently had excellent sources but would only deal through someone called Xio – strange name. Amanda wasn’t sure about this new source but he had connections to original human hair coming out of the Philippines and South America.

“When we said our vows last time; there were…conflicting emotions involved for you. I’d like you to say your vows again. And mean them.”

Amanda looked up at that. “What? And you had no conflicted emotions?” she asked incredulously.

“Nope. None. I said my ‘I dos’ because I knew you were the one.”

Amanda snorted. “How great for you,” she said still texting.

“So will you marry me again Amanda Jane Moore?” Michael asked.

“Yes of course I will. Just say when.”

Michael smiled, “Well now that you mention it…”

Amanda looked up in disbelief, “What?”

Michael just smiled.

*****

“Blue shirt, or white?” He asked, turning to the closet and pulling out both.

Amanda considered. “White.”

“Plain necktie or striped?”

“Striped.”

“Well, then, I’ll take my chances. I can always trade you in for some other hunky young stud if you don’t come up with the goods later.” Amanda arched her neck to the left, allowing Michael better access. A happy hum escaped her and Michael smiled into her warm skin. Then sighed.

“You’re right. What was I thinking. We can’t keep the celebrant waiting.”

They pulled apart reluctantly and dressed, Amanda settling on her favorite Stella McCartney dress; it was off white, off the shoulder and hugged her petite frame. Its hem stopped just above her knee at the front and swept down to her ankles at the back. She put on open toed cream pumps to go with it, glad that she’d just had a pedicure two days ago and her toenails were painted gold. She swept her hair into a bun and stuck a flower on the side.

“Perfect,” she said studying her reflection.

Michael struggled with the half Windsor tie knot, he wasn’t much for suits. So Amanda finished for him, smoothing down the lapels of Michael’s jacket and fixing the yellow rose buttonhole. Yellow for faithfulness. She caressed the petals. Michael let her, thinking how he never wanted anyone else and never would.

They stood together, assessing. Smiling.

“Got your vows?” Michael asked.

“Sure. I know what I want to say.”

Michael leaned in and kissed Amanda, a soft expression of thankfulness and playfulness and quiet joy.

“Ten bucks says the car’s ten minutes early,” Amanda said, creating a verbal distraction from her suddenly misty eyes.  She walked off to wait in the living room.

Michael watched, admiring her straight back and the sway of her hips. He smiled again, and followed.

The end.