I do not own Fifty Shades Trilogy or the characters. They belong to E. L. James. I am only exercising my right to exploit, abuse, and mangle the characters to MY discretion in MY story in MY interpretation as a fan. I hope you—as a fellow fan—enjoy it, too.
Chapter 23—Wedding Shenanigans
“Where did you learn to do that?” I asked last night after Butterfly took me on the wildest ride I have ever had in my own Playroom. She had led me mindlessly to the shower in the en suite and washed me lovingly after she beat my ass and made me come so hard and long that my brain was scrambled. Afterwards, we lay in our bed in our bedroom, me on my stomach after she gently rubbed my aching butt with Arnica massage oil. “That’s something that you don’t learn overnight,” I continued nervously, not sure that I wanted to know how my Butterfly learned to master a cane so well.
She was fondling my back, and then she stopped at my question.
“Michelangelo,” she responded. Micha-what? I leaned up on my arms and looked at her, frowning. She sighed heavily. “From the club? Michelangelo? I told him what I had in mind and he… she… he…” Okay, what the hell? “Fuck it, he taught me a few things.” I tried to sit up, but my butt hurts and my body aches. “Stay down, Christian…”
“Excuse me, but…” I tried to interject.
“Stay. Down. Christian.” She menacingly pronounced every word and I wasn’t really sure who I was dealing with. She didn’t call me Mr. Grey, but she had that voice… and my mind told me that it might be a better idea to stay down. I reluctantly laid back down on the bed never taking my eyes off of her. I needed to know details and I needed to know fast, before my imagination got the best of me.
“I did my research when I saw how much pain turned you on. I saw your canes and I saw how you responded to the crop. I didn’t know how much you would be willing to take, but I wanted to try. I knew that I would punish you and I knew that I would use the cane on you. The paddle was trial and error, but I practiced on industrial strength latex water balloons. If they burst, I knew it was too hard.”
“And the cane?” I asked. Anybody could swing a paddle. It’s takes a pro to wield a cane and elicit the feelings that she brought out in me. I should know… I am a pro.
“A second-hand velvet cushion,” she said. “It shows the intensity and damage of each blow. Wolfgang likes pain with his pleasure, too, so Michel is very good with the cane.” I breathe a huge sigh. I’m not really sure how I feel about a man teaching my girl—my Domme—how to swing a cane, but the guy is gay and she practiced on pillows and balloons.
“You didn’t think I practiced on a person, did you?” I stiffened when she asked that question. I had hoped that she hadn’t, but to be honest…
“No… I didn’t. I knew that you wouldn’t do that to me. It’s just that you are so good at it. It’s like you have done it for years. I didn’t know how someone could be that good at it and not practice on another person, but you…” I laid my head back down on my folded arms and closed my eyes. “You never cease to amaze me…”
I am snapped back to the here and now and this damn rehearsal dinner by the sound of these fuckers drooling over my girl…
“Oh, shit, she is hot!”
“Damn, who dives into that every night?”
“I’m going to meet her in my dreams!”
“I bet I can tap that…”
Seven groomsmen. Seven fucking groomsmen and I only know three of them—Gary, Allen, and James—and the rest of them are ogling my woman. They’re not even being discreet about it. They’re all acting like horny ass dogs making comments right in earshot of me, and I can’t do a damn thing about it but sit here and listen. Butterfly, of course, is Maxine’s Maid of Honor, but some guy named Quincy is Phil’s Best Man. He went to school with this joker and they’ve been friends since they were kids. No amount of begging or convincing could get me into this wedding, and believe me, I tried—but I’ll have the last word. So enjoy it while you can, boys.
Butterfly is the last one to walk down the aisle before the flower girl and then Mandy walks down with Maxine’s father, standing in for Maxine as they are sticking to the tradition that the Bride will only walk down the aisle once when it’s her time. Mandy and Butterfly are very close since before she married Ana’s father and now, she’s almost like an honorary member of the “Scooby Gang” as Ana calls them… well, about as much as your pregnant stepmother can blend in with your friends, I guess.
The wedding planner has the wedding party run through the ceremony three times to make sure that everyone knows where they should be tomorrow, but by the third time, the bridal party—and Ana—look like they have had enough. I don’t know what happened back there in the vestibule, but Ana is sour-faced and a couple of the women almost look like they would rather be anywhere but here.
Butterfly wears the most provocative clothing and with these fuckers eye-fucking her tonight, I wish I could wrap her in a blanket and carry her out of here! She is wearing this gorgeous black lace sleeveless cocktail dress… not too much cleavage, cut about three inches above the knee, totally appropriate—and hot as hell! I feel like a troll compared to her in my midnight black jeans, black blazer, and white turtleneck. I’m beginning to feel like I should have worn a suit!
The rehearsal is nearly over and we’ll be going over to the Trellis in the Heathman for the rehearsal dinner. Tonight is the bachelor/bachelorette parties and I am sure that we all want to get to the festivities as soon as possible. However, I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to be social to the assholes that are drooling over my girl. She doesn’t seem too happy standing up there with the other bridesmaids, either. I suddenly get the feeling that she is going through the same thing I am when I see two of them look at me with salacious eyes. This is going to be a long ass wedding.
When the wedding planner finally dismisses us, that Quincy character makes a beeline over to my woman in an attempt to escort her from the church. That’s your job tomorrow, Sport… not tonight. Go grab one of those other horny women. This one is mine.
“I’ll take it from here,” I say to his back as he is trying to put the moves on my girl. She smiles widely up at me as Quincy looks over his shoulder to see where the voice is coming from.
“Can I help you, Friend?” he says, like I am interrupting him, which I am.
“No, but she can,” I say extending my hand to my Butterfly. She gladly takes it and walks around Quincy like he’s one of those orange construction cones in the street. “Surely you didn’t think she was here alone?” I added, matter-of-factly.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he says, tipping his head slightly at Butterfly and walking back to the other horny, drooling dogs. Butterfly sighs.
“Is it over yet?” she laments, dropping her head in her hands. I frown at her.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I ask. She shakes her head at me.
“I have to spend my night with a group of the most disrespectful women that I’ve ever met in my life.”
“Yes, oh! Hell, those two on the end don’t even have enough class to feel ashamed of themselves,” she declares pointing obviously at the two salacious-eye women.
“You should hear what the men are saying about you,” I tell her. Her head jerks back.
“Excuse me?” she says, softly. I nod.
“Butterfly, you look absolutely delicious in that dress. Any one of those men would climb over me to get to you right now.” She smiles coyly at me then very deliberately outlines my lips with her forefinger while trailing her own with her tongue. Oh, fuck.
“Well, they would be wasting their time,” she says, seductively and my pants get tight in the groin area. I slip my arm around her waist and snatch her against me so that she can feel my erection. She gasps.
“Keep that up and I swear I’m going to fuck you right here,” I whisper the threat in her ear and feel her shiver in my arms when I gently kiss her neck, then her lips.
“Oh for God’s sake, you two, get a room!” Allen announces, turning all attention to us that wasn’t already focused in our direction. I kiss her again.
“Well, I would,” I retort, “but I have to spend my evening with you losers instead of wrapped in my girls arms…” I turn to look at her, “…and legs,” I add and I can almost hear panties—and spirits—dropping all over the room. “So, I’ll have to put a rain check on the room for tonight.”
“Promise?” she whispers in my ear.
“Oh, most certainly,” I say, my hand sliding down to her lace-clad ass. Eat this, fellas.
“Alright, alright, let’s get to dinner before Ana and Christian bang each other in the aisle,” Maxine adds with a laugh.
“So that’s Christian Grey. He is even sexier in person.”
“Do you think he has a big dick? He looks like he does… look at his pants.”
“I bet he’s an incredible lover. He looks like he could fuck all night.”
“Oh my God, he has such a great ass! I would ride him to until the sun came up!”
“I bet I could give him a night he would never forget!”
Are you fucking serious? These bitches are standing right behind me talking this shit? And I have to spend the whole night with these whores? Give me a fucking break! This has been going on ever since Christian and the rest of the guys got here and these women have absolutely no shame. They know that he’s my boyfriend and they are still acting like uncooth hussies! I turn around and face all five of them and look each one in the face as I address their rude and inconsiderate statements.
“Yes, that is Christian Grey and he’s very sexy. Yes, he does have a big dick. Yes, he is an incredible lover. He can and does fuck all night. Yes, his ass is outstanding, but you will never get the chance to ride him… and you…” I glare at the last girl, “…would lose that bet!”
I understand that women want my man. Look at him, he flawless—but can you at least have enough home training to not disrespect me while I’m standing here?
“Ladies, can we agree that we know that Christian Grey is off limits and that you will attempt to try to control you wagging tongues, dripping panties, and out-of-control hormones so that we don’t ruin Maxine’s wedding?” Valerie questions the five horny hoes. They immediately start throwing dirty looks at me. “Oh, no! Don’t start throwing evil eyes at Ana. You were verbally molesting her man while she was three feet away from you! How would you feel if she did that to you?” Three of the girls immediately look chastised, but two still remain firm in their attitudes. Val walks over to the two and gets in their faces.
“Get it together, Girls, or we will throw you off of the party bus and you get to tell Maxine why.” She has pulled out a voice that I swear sounds like a Domme. I almost heel to her tone. While she’s putting her foot in their asses, the other three are looking at me with eyes that clearly show they are ashamed of their actions. One of them even mouths “sorry” to me. That’s good enough. I don’t need a pound of flesh for this, not even from the bitches back there that won’t heel. Just don’t let this shit happen again.
I was only too happy when Christian came to rescue me from Quincy once the rehearsal dinner was over. I was sure that he knew that Christian and I were a couple, but he disavowed any such knowledge when Christian whisked me away from his possible clutches. Now, after that last display for “hungry cat” and “machismo” we just gave the wedding party, we are off to the rehearsal dinner at the Heathman.
I have to say, we are even worse sitting at the table with at least 30 people consisting of the wedding party and various members of Maxie and Phil’s families. I’m sitting so close to Christian that I am nearly in his lap. Every time I try to move away to be more appropriate, he pulls me back to him and kisses me somewhere just barely appropriate—my neck, behind my ear, my shoulder, my hair. Fuck, I wish I could ditch this damn hen party, but my duties lie with the bride. I’m sure we have thoroughly made our point to all of the hopefuls standing in line to get a crack at either of us—it ain’t happenin’.
“So, Anastasia,” Selena nearly barks my name from across the table. She is one of the bitches that never apologized for eye-fucking my man. “When are you and Christian going to make the big commitment?” Oh my God, I want to die. The table falls silent. Thirty damn people and the table falls silent while this bitch sits there smirking at me. My body tenses immediately and I was going to say something back to her, but Christian puts his hand on my arm bringing me to immediate silence.
In that combination CEO/Dom voice of his, he asks her, “Who are you and what business is that of yours?”
Whoa! Stand back, folks, there a blazin’ about ta happen! She just pissed him off. Various people react in silent awe of what just happened, and my friends all look at each other, silent signals passing between them. What the fuck just happened?
I turn my glare back to Selena and wait for her response.
“I’m sorry,” she says barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t trying to be rude.”
“Oh, but you were trying,” he retorted. “You just didn’t expect me to call you on it.” Now, she’s shrinking in her chair.
“Baby…” I say, reaching over and touching his hand. He squeezes mine in return.
“It’s okay, Butterfly. I won’t eviscerate her, but at least now she knows that if she ever tries to publicly undermine someone’s relationship again, she publicly deserves whatever she gets.” He’s glaring at her and she never raises her head. Needless to say, no one dare make a comment like that towards us for the rest of the night, but I know that Christian won’t be there to defend my honor as we go hopping around the city this evening. So I prepare myself for a not-so-fun night out with the girls.
“Behave yourself,” I whisper into Christian’s ear as we are saying our goodnights after the rehearsal dinner. He gently brushes his lips against mine before kissing me softly, leaving me longing.
“You, too,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Try not to kill anyone tonight, Tiger.”
“I’ll try, and I know the men can get raunchy, too, so don’t blacklist anyone or ruin anybody’s business or whatever you rich, powerful, CEO types do when people piss you off.” I smile and he kisses me again.
“Okay, okay, you love him, he loves you. Let’s go. You’ll see him in 16 hours. You’re holding up the party!” Val literally snatches me out of Christian’s arms and drags me to the party bus. I want to slap her, but Christian’s just smiles and waves at me.
We have rented the extra, extra large Executive party bus from Creative Bus and it is fantastic! It holds 26 people—plush seating and funky creative lighting. I fully stocked the bar and actually hired a bartender to serve us. I’ve loaded up my iPod and plugged it in to the bus’s docking station and we have a party going on—complete with high end hors d’oeuvres and desserts. We ride around for a little while, playing games, letting loose and acting crazy. After about 40 minutes, Maxie stands up to make an announcement.
“Okay, my lovelies. Now that we are pretty well… lubricated…” The girls howl at her choice of words. We are all beginning to get a bit tipsy and the party hasn’t even started yet. “We are going to go to our first destination. Now, I have my well-known, fairly famous maid of honor here…” More howling from the ladies, “…and I don’t want my hen party crashed by the paparazzi. So, to that end, we will all be wearing masks tonight.”
The girls begin to frown and question among themselves until Maxie starts to pull out the masks—the most beautiful assortment of Moulin Rouge style masquerade masks you have ever seen…
And the howling starts again.
“Oh my God, these are fabulous!”
“I want this one! It’s perfect for my skin tone!”
“Who came up with this idea? This is genius!”
“I want the little one. I don’t want to mess up my hair…”
Maxie and I had already chosen our masks. Maxie’s is a white and silver Venetian mask with clear and silver beads hanging down the sides, rhinestones around the eyes, and beautiful beadwork across the top. My mask is black with filigree-like designs on the left side while the right side front is decorated in rhinestones around the eye, and the far right, top, and bottom of the mask bursts out into a black hollowed butterfly… what else?
Our first stop—KARAOKE!
To be honest, I don’t even know where we were! I looked around, I saw Chuck, I didn’t care. Of course, we were the center of attention when we got inside—a bunch of hot women wearing Venetian masks and making a lot of noise. We were cheering on the singers and dancing and acting a fool! That’s when I noticed that we were having way more fun than I expected… where’s Selena?
“Maxie?” I say leaning into her and gaining her attention. “Did Selena get lost?”
“No,” she says, her voice slurring just a bit. “After her foot-in-mouth-itis at the rehearsal dinner, she suddenly ‘fell ill’ and agreed to meet us all at the Four Seasons after she ‘rests.'” Neither of us believed that garbage and it was clear that Maxie wasn’t missing her so, on with the show!
Speaking of show, right before we left Karaoke, we all got on stage and sang Count On Me. Not even one of us sounded like Whitney Houston or Cee Cee Winans.
We are back on the party bus and off to another locale, a little place called Brouwer’s Cafe—lots of dancing, great crowd, and Maxie ended up sitting on the bar drinking shots. No, not at the bar… on the bar. After a while, one of the security detail had to get her down because she was surrounded by men trying to get a kiss from the “bride to be.”
We danced and drank for quite a while at Brouwer’s before boarding the party bus again and making fools of ourselves on the pole in the back of the bus—a bunch of drunken, non-coordinated women trying to pole dance in a moving bus. It’s a wonder none of us ended up in traction!
We visited maybe six clubs—one of which we were thrown out of because the clientele didn’t appreciate our masks. They thought we were being separatists or elitists which, in a way, we were, but not because we didn’t want to mingle. We just didn’t want to be recognized, and we weren’t bothering anybody. Needless to say, the bulky bodyguards in black suits didn’t help. We started literally getting heckled by the guests just for sitting at the table. After about ten minutes, someone who I suppose is the owner comes over to analyze the disturbance and tells us that we had to leave.
“Excuse me, Sir,” Val says, “but we’re not doing anything wrong. We haven’t ordered a drink, we haven’t said anything to anyone… we just sat down.”
“I’m sorry, but you’re disturbing my customers!” he says, forcefully.
“How!?” Val protests. “We’re not doing anything.”
“Your presence is causing a disturbance,” he says, clearly putting on a show for the other patrons, who have now began to take on the “ugly mob” mentality. Val wants to argue more, but I put my hand on hers. I swear I must have drank enough to lay to lumberjacks on their asses tonight, but at this moment, I am cold sober.
“We’ll leave. Let’s go.” I say quietly. She looks at me and stands, realizing that it’s better to just leave than to cause a scene.
These fucking bastards start cheering. Maxie is near tears. I let the other ladies leave before me and purposely wait until the last of them is on the party bus. I turn around still inside the establishment and gesture Chuck to follow me. I march back into the bar where Mr. Owner Guy stands with his arms folded glaring at me. This is one time that I hope this fucking media fodder has done its job. I gingerly untie my mask and take it off.
Yep—somebody knows who I am.
There are a few gasps in the room, and yes, Mr. Owner Guy knows, too. I can hear my name, Christian’s name, Green Valley, that fucking AnaChris—yeah, they know.
“So, now you know why we were wearing the masks. I couldn’t very well wear one alone, now could I?” I say to the speechless man with his mouth gaping open. The party has stopped… even the music stopped. I speak very softly to him.
“You say that we were disturbing your patrons. We don’t know how or why we were disturbing them, but we were aware that our presence was disturbing. We would have left anyway. We didn’t need the added humiliation of you throwing us out for no reason whatsoever. My friend is getting married tomorrow. This was part of her bachelorette party. We just wanted to have a couple of drinks without being mobbed by paparazzi. I’m just glad that the clubs we went to before this didn’t treat us this way.” I turn to Chuck. “Make sure Christian knows about this.” I say to him.
As I am indignantly marching out of the club, I heard Chuck tell him, “Man, you have no idea who you just pissed off, but you will by tomorrow.”
Within moments, I was back on the party bus and the mood was somber at best.
“Oh, the hell with this! Turn on the music. Frank, start pouring drinks! This shit is not going down like this. If those fucking bastards don’t want our money and don’t know how to handle themselves in a presence of a gaggle of gorgeous women, fuck ’em!” I declare loudly. The ladies cheer in agreement and just like that, the party is live again. “Justin, get us the fuck out of here!” I yell to the driver.
“Yes Ma’am!” he says, and the party is on its way to the Four Seasons.
We have rented out two floors—one for sleeping and one for a combination of sleeping and partying with security spread out on both floors. Once my inebriated friends and the rest of the bridal party get inside, I gesture for Chuck and my purse.
“Justin, Frank, thank you for everything. Its was a wonderful night and you both did a fantastic job to deal with 12 drunken women.” I hand them each $500.
“Ms. Steele, the gratuity is included in your payment, Ma’am,” Frank protests and Justin nods.
“I know, but the gratitude is here,” I say closing both of their hands over the money. “Thank you.” I smile and they smile back and nod once politely.
“Our pleasure, Ma’am,” Justin says. I turn around and walk into the hotel with Chuck.
Up on the 10th floor, the party continues in the largest suite on the floor. The drunken ladies are at it again and there is no reminder of the events that happened not an hour earlier. We’ll let Mr. Grey handle that, as I know that he won’t let this go by quietly. I hadn’t even gotten my first re-inebriation libation down when one of the damn guards is knocking at the door. What the fuck is it? I’m not really pleased at what I see on the other side of the door.
“Ms. Saunders?” The officer asks. Two of them, in fact.
“Nope,” I say, opening the door and pointing over my shoulder with my thumb to the rowdy crown of women behind me. They breeze past me and they don’t fool me for one second. I stand there and watch them talk to the gaped-mouth women and the moment Officer What-The-Fuck-Ever-His-Name-Is rips off his tearaway pants, I am out of there.
I don’t know who all of these guards are, but there is one standing outside of our door.
“Where’s Chuck?” I ask him. He points down the hall.
“The elevator, Ms. Steele,” he says.
“Thanks,” I say. He nods.
“You’re welcome, Ma’am.” I walk towards the elevator and see Chuck standing there typing away at his phone. He raises his head and frowns when he sees me walking toward him.
“What are you doing out here?” he asks. “I know I just sent two fake cops to that room.”
“Yeah. Strippers aren’t really my thing,” I say, remembering with horror the fiasco that was my birthday party last year. I never really was a big fan of male strippers, but that incident turned me off forever. “There will be no strippers at my bachelorette party—whenever it may be. Anyone who even suggests a stripper will be banned from the wedding.”
“That bad, huh?” he says. I nod.
“That bad, but no use in stopping everyone else’s fun, right? Who are they?”
“Valerie ordered them—a couple of Med school students. Harmless.” I nod leaning against the wall.
“That’s good to know. Besides that asshole at the last bar, did we have any problems tonight?” I ask.
“You mean besides the nightmare of following 12 rowdy, drunk, and now horny women around all night? No, it was a piece of cake,” he says, and I laugh.
“Well, at least we’re all in one place now and we will most likely sleep until noon!”
“Well, yes, there is that,” he says. I sit in one of the seats placed in the hallway for the security patrol.
“What’s been the word from Christian?” I ask. I know he probably blew a gasket when he heard what happened to us at that club. I’m surprised he didn’t call me.
… Unless he’s having too much fun.
Unwelcome thoughts of that nasty strip-o-gram come to mind and I push them away. I’m not going to police this man’s behavior and I’m not going to worry about if some scantily-clad bimbo is gyrating on his lap right now. I shake my head in an effort to shake the thought.
“I rarely hear from Mr. Grey directly, Ana. It’s mostly Jason. He called right after I sent the text about what happened in the bar. Near as I can tell, that place is going to be persona non grata in less than a week.” I nod.
“I won’t lose any sleep,” I say. “We were potential paying customers just like everyone else in that establishment and we didn’t deserve to be treated that way.” I push my hair off of my forehead to make room for my hand. The elevator rings and another member of the security team reports something to Chuck about the girl downstairs who fucked the bellhop and sent him away.
That must be Selena. She’s the only “girl downstairs” right now.
“Classy,” I say aloud.
“I’ll say,” Chuck repeats. I hear the elevator ring and it’s Ben. He’s clearly surprised to see me in the hallway.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, covertly but not-so-covertly questioning my presence.
“Ms. Steele doesn’t do well with strippers,” Chuck says.
“Oh?” he says, surprised. I look up at him. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know of many women who wouldn’t at least watch.”
“Well, now you know one,” I say impassively, rubbing my head again. I hear Ben report something to Chuck and he leaves down the hall.
“So, you’re in charge tonight,” I say, more of a statement than a question. He nods.
“Just over here with you and the ladies. You’re going to rub a fire into your skin if you don’t stop, Ana.” The elevator rings again… more guards to report to Chuck, I think to myself.
“Oh… just trying to rub away some old ghosts, I guess…” Actually, not so old.
I don’t do titty bars. I never have and I never will. So there was no amount of coaxing that could be done that could convince me take this crew to a strip club. I could see Butterfly gasping at the headlines now…
Grey seen in local strip club. Is this the end of AnaChris?
They have been brutal with digging for details on Green Valley. She has been handling things pretty well so far. How in the hell do they plan to do the party route tonight with Ana in tow and not get clipped by the paps? She doesn’t know she has a small fucking army following her. Twelve women, eight guards. She thinks it’s only five. I thought she knew me better than that. Jason is with me tonight but he is on duty. I felt like I should at least have him and Williams, but all of these men can take care of themselves.
“What’s the word?” I ask him.
“Karaoke was uneventful. The women are getting pretty pickled. They are all wearing those masquerade masks, so no one knows who they are.” Good one! I never would have thought of that.
“No gropey idiots?” I question.
“Well, there’s always one or two, but nothing to be concerned about. The biggest thing is that Ms. Saunders had to be removed from off of the bar a little while ago.” I throw a questioning look at him. “She wasn’t dancing on it or anything like that. She was just sitting on it, but a few more shots and there may not have been a wedding tomorrow due to a blootered bride.” I laugh a little. Maxine is letting her hair down. That’s pretty funny.
We take the party to the McElvoy—harmless enough since I own the club. Of course, the atmosphere changes when I walk in. Nearly all of the staff know that I’m part owner, but not all of them. Elliot always likes to throw his weight around as my big brother, trying to get VIP treatment, but it doesn’t always work. I can just about hear panties dropping as we walk through the club. There are about 14 of us and none of us are unattractive. This place can be sort of meat-marketish on Friday and Saturday nights and believe me, I see the “baby-daddy” look in more eyes that I want to right now.
I make eye-contact with absolutely no one.
“Elliot!” I hear some woman shriek from off to the right. Elliot turns to follow the voice and grimaces immediately.
“Um… hi… um…” Fucked that many, have you, Elliot? I remember the name of every single woman that Greystone has ever encountered.
“Cheryl!” she hisses putting her hands on her hip.
“Okay, Cheryl,” he says, noncommittal.
“You never called me,” she says, pouting.
“Sorry.” He doesn’t even remember who you are, Lady.
“Any chance we can pick up where we left off?” she says tracing the buttons on his shirt.
“Um, sorry, Cheryl. I’ve got a girlfriend.” What? Did he just say that out loud? Cheryl huffs at him.
“Well, what are you doing here?” she snarls.
“Well, first of all, it’s a free country. The last I checked, this was a nightclub, not a ‘come and fuck me’ club, so I am free to come here if I want to… especially since my brother owns it. However, if you must know, I am here for a private bachelor party.” That got her attention, especially since she’s watching all of this man meat parading past her.
“Oh! Can my friends and I join you guys? I have some really good-looking girlfriends,” she flirts. Good God, have you no shame, Woman? Are you pimping out your girlfriends!? Time to end this conversation.
“Thank you, um… Cheryl,” I interject, putting my hand on the shoulder of a relieved Elliot, “but we’ve got it covered. Like he said, it’s a private party.” She glares at me.
“And who are you?” she spits at me as if she were appalled that I dare speak. Elliot drops his head and chuckles.
“I would be the brother that he mentioned—you know, the one that owns this club.” I say, glaring at her. Without waiting for a response, I add, “Before you start throwing that misplaced righteous indignation around, you should probably remember that you just offered yourself and your girlfriends up on a silver platter to a bunch of strangers.” I’m frowning at her now. I look over to Elliot. “Where do you find these women?” I ask him right in front of her.
“In your club!” Elliot laughs. I shake my head.
“Well, maybe I should talk to security about a blacklist,” I say looking over at Cheryl one last time and then proceeding to the VIP area.
“Bye, Cheryl,” I hear Elliot say behind me. “It’s been… well… bye.” Wow. That was quietly harsh, and funny as hell.
We get to the VIP room and the servers are already there taking drink orders. The ladies’ shirts are open a couple of extra buttons, but hell, whatever you have to do to get a tip, I guess. The drinks are flowing and the bragging and talking begins. That’s when we discover that some of our gentlemen have no filter.
“Man, no offense but your girlfriend’s hot!” One of the groomsmen say. I didn’t bother getting to know them by name—except for Quincy since he’s walking my girl back down the aisle. Security knows everything about them, but there’s nothing I needed to know.
“I know she is,” I say, taking a swallow of my drink.
“How’d you manage to land that?” he keeps going. I look impassively at him.
“No need for you to be concerned with that.” I’m trying not to cause a scene, but this guy keeps pressing me. Luckily, Philip is nearby and can hear the conversation.
“For the love of God, Man, they were all over each other all night,” Philip says. “Are you really having this conversation right now? Really?” His voice is full of disbelief.
“I’m just saying, Man…” the guy weakly tries to defend himself. “She’s hot.”
“No. What you’re just saying is that you would like for me to beat your ass for egging me on and then you would like for my bodyguard over there to beat your ass, and when we’re done, you’d like for us to pour your ass into a plane and send you back to wherever the fuck you came from.” I respond. A smirk comes over his face.
“Go ahead. I’ll just sue your ass,” he says. I lean in to him.
“It’ll be worth ever dime to beat your ass, and trust me, I will beat you within an inch of your life and I’ll leave the scraps for him.” I gesture to Jason. At this point, I remove my suit jacket, just in case he wants to take me up on that offer. His eyes widen a bit and I realize that my suit jacket was a bit of a camouflage of my physique underneath.
“Shit, Fred,” Philip exclaims. “You’re ruining my fucking night! You’re the goddamn King of Inappropriate. I knew I shouldn’t have invited you. Now shut the fuck up before you get thrown out of the party and the wedding!” Fred takes another look at me, trying not to show that his resolve is slipping, but finally shuts his big mouth. Asshole.
Did they open the doors to the goddamn loony bin and let the crazies out on furlough tonight? It’s not bad enough that both Ana and I have to deal with the eye-fucking all weekend, but on top of that, people are saying the most inappropriate things to us tonight. What the hell—is there a full moon!?
As I am pondering my thoughts, more drinks arrive along with more women. It looks like Phil’s groomsmen got him one of those cheesy cake strippers. I’ve never seen one myself—a woman popping out of a cake—but I just sit back at the bar and let the men have their fun. As it turns out, Candy brought her friends… and lots of them. I don’t know if that is her real name, but most often where you find strippers, somewhere you’ll find a “Candy.” Phil, of course, enjoys a good show I can tell, even though he won’t touch the young lady. One of them did saunter over to me, but I thanked her and politely declined her invitation. She was classy enough and respected my wishes, smiling and wishing me a good evening.
She has more poise than that Cheryl chick. Go figure…
Allen comes over to the bar area with me and orders another drink.
“Allen, you have to explain something to me,” I say, drinking more bourbon and getting a little tipsy by now. “You were all over that stripper, giving her money and doing catcalls… do you swing both ways?” Allen giggles—yes, giggles at my question.
“No!” he says laughing. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t grope some woman while my boyfriend was here. Plus, I could never cheat on James. I’m in love with him.” I don’t know if that’s TMI or not, but it’s pretty obvious that they are quite smitten with each other, so it’s not like this is news. “What was the question? Oh! Yeah! No, I’m not bi, but believe me. I do appreciate a fine specimen of woman. A hot girl is a beautiful sight to behold—a naked hot girl, even more so, even though I have no desire to fuck her.” Oh boy, he’s drunk. He’s funny when he’s drunk.
“I don’t get it though,” now I’m getting a little drunk. “It’s like a diabetic going to a candy store. It’s something just out of reach.”
“No…” he says like he’s thinking really hard. “It’s more like a diabetic going to a candy museum…” Oh, he is toasted—a candy museum? “He admires the beauty and form of all of the candy even though he’s not going to eat any.” Okay, I must be a little snockered, because that made sense.
“Um, Sir… are you okay?” Jason asks as he approaches the bar.
“A little on the ‘happy’ side, but yes, I’m fine,” I tell him.
“A word?” Oh hell, what now?
“That’s my cue.” Allen rises from the barstool. “I’m going back to the Candy Museum. Try not to kill anyone, Chris,” he says as he walks away from the bar. Jason turns to me.
“Candy Museum?” he questions, tilting his head.
“Don’t ask,” I wave him off. “What’s up?”
“It appears that the ladies had a bit of trouble tonight.” What?
“Be more specific, please,” I hiss. Ignoring my ire, Jason continues.
“They were kicked out of a bar called the Heirloom. Apparently, the other guests didn’t like the fact that they were wearing masks and began to jeer at them… in masse—you know how the mob mentality works. Anyway, the owner noted the situation and kicked the ladies out, stating—and I quote—’you are disturbing my customers.'” I frown.
“Let me see if I understand you correctly. The customers were angry because they were wearing masks and started to verbally attack them?”
“Yes, Sir,” he confirms.
“Then the owner comes out, blames the ladies for the barbaric behavior of his customers and kicks them out.”
“That sounds right, Sir.”
“Did he even ask them what the problem was? Did he request that any of them remove their masks since they were causing such a disturbance?” I’m getting angrier and angrier by the second.
“Not that I can tell, Sir. They wouldn’t have taken their masks off anyway. They were trying to protect Her Highness’ identity, which turned out to be futile because she took off her mask anyway.”
“She what!?” What the fuck?
“Apparently, Maxine left the venue crying which pissed Her Highness off. After she put them all back on the bus, she and Chuck went back to the owner where she removed her mask in the middle of the joint, thus explaining—without explaining—why everyone was wearing masks. A lot of the patrons as well as the owner recognized her, after which she scolded him for humiliating Maxie during her bachelorette party and quickly left the scene. They are back at the Four Seasons now.” Shit. Their party is over because of some haughty bastard bar owner. He won’t be too haughty by the end of next week.
Remember that loony bin comment? Yeah…
“Is she okay, now?” I ask.
“As far as I can tell, yes. There has been no update from Chuck that things are going badly.” I shake my head. I don’t want to leave the party, but I can check on Butterfly and be back before these drunkards notice that I’m gone.
“Let’s go Jason.”
Five minutes away from the Four Seasons, I have Jason text Lawrence to get an update on if I will be mobbed by staff when I get there and to tell Davenport to get Butterfly alone so that I can talk to her. As we are entering the lobby, Jason tells me that she is already in the hallway with Davenport.
“Why?” I say, knowing that my voice sounds cross.
“Well, the strippers showed up about 10 minutes ago, and she wanted none of it. She’s sitting in the hallway fidgeting and rubbing her forehead as we speak,” he says. God, you’re such an asshole, Grey. Not only did my mind immediately go the suspicious route, but me and my “teach-her-a-lesson” attitude at our birthday party in October has made it so that she can’t even enjoy the night with her friends. I know that she would never be unfaithful to me and, like Allen says, harmless admiration doesn’t hurt. Instead, she’s sitting in the hallway, no doubt reliving the whole damn thing over again.
The elevator announces its arrival at the 10th floor and I hear her before I see her.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t know of many women who wouldn’t at least watch.” I don’t know which voice that is, but it had better be one of my security staff since no one else is supposed to be allowed on this floor.
“Well, now you know one,” That’s my Butterfly. I about to step out of the elevator when she says, “So, you’re in charge tonight.”
“Just over here with you and the ladies. You’re going to rub a fire into your skin if you don’t stop, Ana.” That’s Davenport. The elevator rings and I realize that the doors are about to close and take us back down. When I step off, her hand is on her forehead—her tell—and her head is down. She hasn’t noticed that I’m there.
“Oh… just trying to rub away some old ghosts, I guess,” she says, slightly mournfully.
“Anything I can do to help?” I ask softly. Her head shoots up immediately. She makes eye-contact with me but doesn’t say anything. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
She bolts out of her seat and launches herself into my arms, just like she did that day at her apartment when I kicked David out.
“I guess that’s a ‘yes,'” I say, wrapping my arms around her and inhaling her scent. She doesn’t say anything and she’s not crying. She just holds me for several moments.
“What are you doing here?” she finally asks, her face buried in my shoulder.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay. I heard about Heirloom,” I respond.
“I knew that you would,” she says, her voice still muffled. “Aren’t they going to miss you at the McElvoy?”
“No, they’re pretty well occupied right now.” She pulls her head back.
“What going on?” she asks.
“Pretty much the same thing that’s going on here,” I say, looking into her questioning eyes. “You can participate, you know. I was an asshole. I should never have reacted that way. I don’t want to spoil your good time because I acted like a fucking caveman one stupid night.” Her expression softens.
“I’ll admit honestly that the incident soured me forever to male strippers, but I was never really a fan. There’s no appeal to it for me. There never has been… even less so, now.” Was that supposed to make me feel better? My girlfriend has such grace and poise…
“So now you can’t even sit in the room with your friends and watch them make a fool of themselves over a couple of hardbodies?” I say with an insincere smirk. She giggles a little at that.
“Don’t fret over me, Christian. Besides, I have my own hardbody,” she says, running her nails across my pecks over the turtleneck. Woman…
“That you do, Ma’am. That you do.” Down, Greystone. Jason, Davenport, and Lawrence have all discreetly decide that a private conversation a few doors down is much more interesting than mine and Butterfly’s exchange. I sink my hands into her hair and kiss her deeply. She drives men crazy, almost to the point of wanting to be beaten senseless and placed on a plane to No Man’s Land. She drives me utterly insane, making me totally unaccountable for my actions. I won’t fuck her… I won’t fuck her…
I reluctantly pull my lips back from hers and rub my nose against her nose. “I… just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I’m going to make sure that fucker never forgets the day that he threw you out of his bar,” I say, trying to control my hormones.
“I’m normally not a vengeful person, but this time, I’m counting on it.” She looks up at me. “I could have taken it if it were just me, Christian—people are just rude sometimes—but this is the night before Maxie’s wedding. She should be celebrating and that place brought her to tears. She was humiliated. Quiet as it’s kept, I’m glad the strippers showed up. They are not my cup of tea, but they helped to get the party back on track.” I stroke her face.
“See? I told you, not a selfish bone in your body, Doctor.” I lift her chin and kiss her gently. “Thank you for loving me, Butterfly,” I breathe. She takes handfuls of my hair and pulls my lips back down to hers, kissing me hungrily.
“So much, Grey,” she whispers, her eyes closed and her forehead resting on mine. “So much.” We stand there in that position for a while, just breathing each other in.
“I really need to get back,” I tell her reluctantly. “We’ve had an interesting night, too. Nothing as dramatic as your night, but I would like to get these gentlemen back to the Fairmont in one piece.” She nods.
“Christian, I have a burning question that I need to ask you. Why the sudden interest in this wedding? You weren’t this involved with Daddy’s wedding, but you stole this reception right out from under me.” I laugh nervously. Divert, divert, divert.
“I wouldn’t say that I stole it, Butterfly. I promise that it still has all of your basic nuances. I just made a few key changes to… enhance the evening. You are going to love it.”
“That still doesn’t tell me why,” she presses. I shrug.
“We needed it.” She looks at me, bemused. “Me and your friends, we needed it. You and Valerie never fell out, and she’s under Elliot 25 hours a day. I see her all the time. It’s easy to mend fences there. Garrett and Philip, and even Maxine after this last situation, we needed some more… bonding time, if you will. A weekend every now and again wasn’t cutting it. I had some ideas, Al and I collaborated and presented them to Maxine and Philip and they loved them. Garrett, well, friend and groomsman, so he was always around.” I shrug. She puts her arms around me.
“You’re a good man, Christian, though I still won’t forgive you for stealing the reception from me.” We’ll see about that, Butterfly. She tiptoes and kisses me on the cheek. “Go back to your cavemen. Make sure they get to the ‘church’ on time.” She uses the little quote marks with her fingers since she is well aware that the wedding is not at a church. I kiss her lips once more.
“Don’t stay out here all night, Baby.” I put my forehead on hers. I’m sorry, Butterfly. The last thing I wanted was to be a source of a bad memory for you.
“I won’t,” she assures me, “and stop worrying about me. I’ll be fine.” I close my eyes and nod, then kiss her once more behind her ears.
“Jason.” I call to my bodyguard and leave the Four Seasons headed back to the McElvoy.
“What did I miss?” I ask, walking back into the VIP room.
“No fair, Grey!” Philip slurs. “If none of us get to see our women tonight, then you don’t get to slip off for a quickie!” The party laughs.
“It wasn’t a quickie,” I say, laughing with them. “We had a bit of a situation, but it’s okay now.”
“What kind of situation?” Allen asks, trying to be official but drunk out of his skull and holding on to James for dear life.
“Settle down, Counselor,” I say. “The ladies were kicked out of a club that will most likely no longer be in operation by this time next week.”
“Why? What happened?” Elliot says, joining the conversation.
“They were all wearing masquerade masks to avert the paparazzi. Apparently, the patrons didn’t like this and the whole thing became a public spectacle resulting in the ladies being rudely forced to leave.”
“Well, what did they do wrong? Why were they asked to leave?” Garrett asked.
“You heard it. They were wearing masks. That’s it,” I respond.
“Son of a bitch.” Allen slurs. “That’s fucked up.”
“Is Max okay? Should I call her?” Phil asks, his high partially blown. I put my hand on his shoulder.
“She’s fine, Philip. Ana took care of it and got the party back on track. From what I know, they were all back to being the rowdy women that we know and love.” No one caught on to the fact that I didn’t see these women, only Butterfly. Crisis averted. I wander around the club for a bit until I see the gentleman that I am looking for.
“Quincy.” He looks up at me.
“Christian,” he responds. I nod.
“May I have a moment of your time please?”
My head feels like lead. After the strippers left, I came back to the room and had more drinks with my already drunken friends. It will be a wonder if any of us will be fit for human viewing by the time of the wedding. I’m not even trying to play with this hangover shit. After a few moments of praying to the porcelain god in my hotel suite, I go down to the gym to burn off this damn alcohol.
An hour and a half later, I am showered and dressed and knocking on the doors of our wedding party to get them out of bed and down to the spa. They were informed when they checked in that I would have keys to their rooms in case they couldn’t wake up so that I could get them down out of bed after our night of merriment. Most of them were just pissed that I looked so fresh face. I didn’t bother to tell them that this was after two hours of combined regurgitation and working out. A girl can’t reveal all of her secrets, now can she?
Somewhere in the middle of the block of rooms, I walked in on one guest giving some lucky fellow a magnificent blowjob.
“Whoa!” I turn around quickly and face away from them. “I knocked… several times,” I defend.
“Do you always just walk into people’s rooms?” Oh, I know that snotty ass voice. I’ve only known her for one day and I know who it is. I am immediately angry because I am really sick of this bitch. Ever see that movie Made of Honor? There’s a character named Melissa who basically sabotaged everything that she could with her friend’s wedding because she was angry that she wasn’t chosen as the maid of honor and wanted to make the current “maid” of honor look bad. That role has Selena’s name written all over it.
I turn around unashamed and face Sourpuss and the guy with the mini-fly.
“Selena, you know what time everyone is supposed to be at the spa for detox. You also know that I have a key to everyone’s room and that I was coming in if you didn’t answer. So stop acting all surprised and indignant like you didn’t see this coming. Now quit being a little sour-faced bitch, get the dick out of your mouth and get your ass down to the spa—or don’t. I really don’t care, but know that Maxie is going to be upset if you are not there. Sir, I apologize. I don’t normally go bursting into people’s room, but don’t be surprised if she set this up just for my benefit, because she knew that I was coming.” I turn around and march out of the room.
“Who was that?” I hear the guy ask. I guess that was the wrong question to ask, because Selena says, “Zip up your pants and get the fuck out.” I just shake my head and close the door.
“Was what I think was happening actual…” Chuck began.
“Yep,” I interrupted him, continuing to the next room.
“What was that call with Christian about?” Maxie asks while we are at the Four Seasons spa getting our bachelorette party detox.
“Just an idiot man being an idiot man, that’s all.” I tell her, dismissing the conversation that I had with my boyfriend right before we entered the spa. Look, I think you may have to ignore Selena today,” I tell her. She frowns.
“Why?” she asks. I sigh.
“I don’t know if she’s going to behave herself and she’s most likely going to blame me for it.” Maxie and are are in the room with Val and Marilyn having a sea algae wrap. It’s one of the spa processes from Los Angeles where you are wrapped in Klamath blue-green algae blended with French green clay and pure lavender essential oil. It’s one of the most powerful detoxifying body wraps the draws out impurities and increases lymphatic function. After the night we had last night, we need all of the cleansing that we can get!
“She and the other bridesmaids were ogling Christian and saying things about him during rehearsal last night… I mean, really vulgar rude things, like the size of his dick. Well, I informed them that I was his girlfriend and for the most part, they were apologetic except for two of them. One of them was Selena. That’s why I think she called us out last night at the rehearsal dinner.” I could have just crawled under a rock and died when she asked about me and Christian and our plans for marriage. I mean I know that weddings get single people thinking about marriage, but she put us—or I should say me—on the spot on purpose. Thank God Christian put her in her place.
“Anyway,” I continue, “I was going door to door to the girls’ rooms to wake them for the spa day. I mean who wouldn’t want a free spa day, right? Lord knows we need the detox. There’s only so much that make-up can do, and there’s some vomiting in our future. How about we get that all out before the wedding?” Almost on cue, Val is hurling into one of the buckets that I requested be near each lady. They are being well used and quickly emptied and replaced.
“Anyway, I had to go into just about everyone’s rooms because, well, we were all comatose after last night. I get to her room and she’s on her knees with a mouth full of dick.”
“Oh are you serious?” Maxie asks. “God, she is such a slut!”
“Now, wait a minute, because I didn’t care about that,” I interject. “I don’t care about whose dick she’s sucking. As long as it’s not my man, have at it! I was just angry because the whole thing looked like it was staged for me to interrupt. She knew what time I was going to be coming to the rooms. I made sure that everyone knew. Yet, I walk into her room and she’s sucking the sausage. I mean the guy was standing there fully dressed. It’s like she grabbed the first person that she saw, pulled him into the room, and stuck his dick in her mouth so that I could walk in and catch her. Seriously, why would I care? I don’t even know the girl, but she seems hell-bent on trying to make me feel uncomfortable. She’s probably telling the bridesmaids right now that I stood there and watched while she gave some guy a blowjob!”
“No, she’s a slut because she has a boyfriend and I can bet she wasn’t sucking his dick since Greg is away on a business trip!” Maxie says. I gasps.
“No!” I exclaim.
“Are you serious?” Marilyn asks.
“As a heart attack,” Maxie confirms and we giggle. Val moans.
“Val, I promise, this detox will help get all of that out of you. That’s one of the reasons why you’re vomiting. Just please, drink plenty of water,” I caution her.
“Yes, Doctor,” she groans and we chuckle again.
After a magnificent facial and hair detox and cleansing, I send the ladies up to the Presidential Suite where Franco and some of the staff from Miana’s are waiting to make us beautiful for the wedding. I knew what the spa staff was in store for before we got there, so I made sure that Chuck had a little something waiting when we were done. I had already used my Amex Black recently gifted to me by Christian to make sure that we weren’t disturbed during our detox, but these ladies had a lot to deal with considering the mob of hungover women they had to contend with. I ask the manager to please gather the women so that I could talk to them before I go upstairs to get beautiful. There are eleven of them and they look like they have been put through the wringer!
“Ladies, I and the bride would like to personally thank you for your treatment of us and our friends today. What you did and how you catered to us while most while most of us were tossing cookies the entire time… you went above and beyond the call of duty. You were professional in the face of disgusting circumstances.” The ladies let out a bit of nervous laughter. I laughed along with them to signal that it’s okay—I completely understand.
“Anyway, you probably have to fumigate this place to prepare for more customers, so I won’t keep you long.” More laughter. “I just wanted to give you each a gift for your hard work, your patience, and your professionalism.”
Chuck begins to hand out envelopes to the ladies and before he gets to the last of them, the first one has opened the envelope and gasps loudly. Each envelope contains a $300 tip.
“Ms. Steele! Thank you!” the first woman exclaims.
“Oh my God, Ms. Steele, this is wonderful!”
“Yes! Thank you! Thank you so much!”
They are full of gratitude for the money but I am full of gratitude that these ladies are not going to be falling down at the wedding today… or seeping alcohol through their pores!
“No, thank you, ladies. You were all magnificent.” They nod, continue to thank me, and each of them shakes my hand before they turn to clean up the spa from the “Saunders Party.” I turn to the manager, Georgia. “I didn’t forget you,” I say with a smile, handing her an envelope as well.
“It’s really not necessary, Ms. Steele. The ladies did all the work,” she protested.
“Um-hmm… and how many fires did you have have to put out today? How many people screamed at you and cursed you because you couldn’t let anyone else into the spa today?” I ask and she nods.
“It was interesting,” she says with a weary nod. I wink at her.
“I’ll bet it was.” I press the envelope into her hand. “Thank you.” Her eyes are full of admiration.
“You are one of the most gracious and classy women that I’ve ever met, Ms. Steele, and I’ve met a lot,” she says softly.
“Thank you, Georgia,” I say with a smile and hug her. As we are leaving, I give Chuck instructions to order lunch and dessert for 12 from Canlis and get it back here to the spa with my regards as quickly as possible.
Hair and makeup was a much smoother process than I expected. Selena didn’t make it to the spa because we were supposed to be down there at a certain time, which is why I was making sure that everyone was awake. She was too busy being a bitch. So when she got down there, they wouldn’t let her in. It turns out that those of us that got the detox didn’t need as much makeup because our skin was positively glowing. She, on the other hand, needed a vat.
Maxie warned the rest of the party of her attitude and demeanor and, like I suggested, she was mostly ignored—particularly when she was making little snide comments. I made it my business not to pay any attention to her for the rest of the day. If she was on fire, I wouldn’t piss on her. I would point at her and say “fire” and walk away.
It’s nearing five o’clock and the sun is setting on the Sound. Maxie and her court have just stepped out of the limousines pulling up to the Woodmark Hotel in Kirkland. Under the cover of a canopy at the door, each of us exit the limos in baby blue knee-length chiffon goddess dresses with an empire waist, crisscross breast, and single over-the-shoulder strap. Our feet are adorned with silver high-heeled sandals with a single jewel-studded strap across the toes and a jewel-studded ankle strap with rhinestone designs that drape down the top of our feet. Our hair is pinned up in the front but cascading down our backs, showcasing our simple stud earrings and zircon necklaces—although Christian secretly had a diamond replica delivered for me. That was totally unnecessary, but try telling that to the great Christian Grey.
Once we are all inside the lobby, the bride enters. Her dress is the stuff that little girl’s dreams are made of—sweetheart neckline, sparking crystal and rhinestone-beaded chest with ruched, crisscross bodice, and the skirt… oh the skirt! A-Line twinkly-light iridescent sparking organza from Alfred Angelo’s official Cinderella line. She had her nails done in a delicate pale blue tip with the same iridescent sparkles that are in her dress.
She is wearing elbow-length fingerless gloves and her hair is pulled back and up in the large bouffant bun with the beautiful zircon headband, regal dangling zircon and crystal earrings with a matching flowery draping necklace. She even has her glass slippers—clear vinyl closed-toe stiletto sandals with a silver steel heel and a cut-out heart at the instep.
She approaches her father who is already in tears. He gives her a gentle butterfly kiss on her cheek as the wedding planner begins frantically waving her hands that it is time for us to begin. We start to hear the quiet tones of Norah Jones Come Away With Me and the groomsmen appear in champagne tuxedos with baby blue ties to escort the ladies down the aisle.
It’s time to get Cinderella to her Prince Charming.
A/N: So, Maxie and Phil are on the way to their HEA. Will Ana and Christian have to endure more drunken amorous admirers at the reception? You can see Maxie’s wedding dress and the bridesmaid’s dresses on the Pinterest page of course.
Pictures of places, cars, fashion, etc. can be found at http://www.pinterest.com/ladeeceo/mending-dr-steele/
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Love and Handcuffs!