The Millionaire’s Fake Wedding

In the evening she treated herself to a steak and a few glasses of dry red wine at a restaurant that had white cloth on the table and chandeliers on the ceiling. She spent the night alone, enjoying her freedom from everything, perhaps, her first and last day of the newly acquired freedom. By the end of the night, however, when the wine was gone and the bill paid, Belle realized she couldn’t live like this from day to day. This is not me, she thought, on her way to the cab she’d called, I need to do things. The simplicity of that statement (and the wine, probably) made her giggle.

She told the cabbie the address, and was home, at the Mayflower Terrace Apartments, just after ten. The sky was dark with gray clouds and the wind was strong, as Belle ascended the stairs to her apartment. The bags with the clothes, she dropped on the bed, and got out the suit. It came on a hanger and wrapped in plastic, which, when removed, released the smell of new, high-quality fabric. Belle got changed. It fit perfectly. And she had just the right pair of shoes for it, too! Dark gray with shiny buckles that looked wonderful on her feet and went well together with a Michael Kors bag of the same color. Belle had long thought about getting a wide-brimmed hat to go with it, but surely that would’ve been overkill, right? And it wasn’t like she had venues to attend that required this Royal Ascot level of elegance from her. Were there even horse races in the States? Belle didn’t no, but suspected that if there were, they were considerable less fancy. Alas.

When the dress was back on the hanger, Belle freed herself from the bra and left the bedroom – her phone was vibrating on the coffee table in the living room. It was her da, she knew, calling to check up on her.

“Hey dad!”

“Hey little girl.” He sounded tired and sleepy. “I tried calling you, where have you been? We were starting to get worried.”

“Oh, sorry about that, I was getting some clothes sorted out…” She sneaked under the throw on the sofa and turned the TV on.

“I see,” Da said, “Well, I hope all is well, dear. How’s work?”

Belle paused on that, muting the TV. There was a lot she wanted to share with her father, but at that particular moment she just wasn’t up for a long explanation of what had happened with her ex-boss and what had followed. Tomorrow, perhaps, when the picture would be clearer.

“All is fine dad, really.”

“Glad to hear that, little girl.”

“How’s ma?”

“You wanna speak to her?”

“Sure.”

There was shuffling as the handset was passed, and then ma’s voice greeted her.

“Hey, Belle, you alright?” Ma sounded lively as always; Belle couldn’t remember her mom ever being tired or passive.

“Mom, can I talk to you some time?” Belle hesitated. She never called her mother ‘mom’, and hoped the hint wouldn’t go unnoticed. It didn’t.

“Of course!” Ma immediately got the vibe, and spoke in a conspiratorial tone; the way people in the movies speak when they don’t want the bad guys to get suspicious. Da wasn’t the bad guy, but he could easily get agitated. “I see. Yeah. I’ll call you tomorrow evening, okay? Love you, girl.”

Belle clicked off and turned the volume up on the TV. There was some show on, one of those where a smart ass helps cops solve crimes, although since she’d tuned in in the middle of it she understood little of the plot. She felt bad for not telling Da about her job situation right away. He would be supportive and consoling, no doubt, but in her current state all she wanted was to snuggle under the throw and relax, enjoying the last few hours of her weekend. It was only fair, wasn’t it? Had to be. She deserved a quiet night. With these thoughts she dozed off, with the television still on, flickering in the dark room.