Page 114 of Dr. Aster
“And what the hell am I supposed to wear, those little hat things like the cousins did for Prince William and Kate’s wedding?”
I knew I sounded extremely American about this, but what did anyone expect? I was the kind of girl who didn’t miss a royal wedding. I watched live coverage of Harry and Meghan’s wedding from when I woke up until I went to sleep, and I loved it. The fashion was as classy as it gets, and if I was going to attend such an event, I had a lot of shopping to do.
“That’s what I’m nervous to ask you about,” John said, snapping me out of my thoughts about whether I was up for the job to show up as a powerful family’s son’s plus one.
“I have to wear that hat, headband thing, don’t I?” I said, recalling how everyone poked fun at Prince William’s cousins showing up with their unique hats. “Do I need a cape or something?”
“Well, because you’ll be attending as Mark Aster’s guest, it might be best if we had a stylist help you with your attire for the week we’ll be there.”
“I don’t want to be a bitch about this at all, John, but a stylist? That’s not who I am, and I wouldn’t want to go into this as if I were. I would be misleading your parents by doing so. That’s why I would need the stylist, right?”
“No,” he said. “Well, not really. It would just help keep my mother’s nose out of our business. So long as you look the part, she’ll leave you alone, and you and I can have a wonderful week together.”
“Most women would dump your ass for what you’re asking of me. Well,” I sighed, “either that or they’d go along just to live a lavish lifestyle. I, however, am going to have to pass. I can’t do that.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” he said sadly.
“You look adorable when you pout, you know?” I laughed. “Really, though? I would be a fool to try to mask who I am as a person with some stylist, dressing me to fit in with your family. I’d look like a damn fool, and then what? Next, you’re teaching me how to curtsey or walk at your side?”
“No,” he said, still defeated.
“You realize the tall order this is, right? I mean, jumping onto a private jet with your friends and staying in a fancy house in Aspen with butlers and chefs is one thing. Dressing up with a stylist and heading to a snobby wedding to watch powerful families unite is an entirely different thing.”
“This is me, though,” John said, sadness radiating from him. “I mean, it’s not me, but it’s where I come from. I’m embarrassed to have to admit it because I fell in love with you, but I’d be an asshole if I didn’t let you see that part of my life.”
“I can see that your family means a lot to you, even though you say you don’t act like the rest of them.”
“They do,” he answered. “I want them to meet you and fall in love with you like I have.”
“Do they know about me?”
I might as well get the one crucial question out of the way if I had to meet the family for their approval. I was no fool; that’s precisely what this was, and I had a feeling that John was using a joyous occasion to break our relationship to the family.
“Not really,” he cringed.
“You can’t feed me to the lions like that,” I said. “I tell you what. Run this past your mother and see how she feels about it. Don’t start this off by playing games with your family. Whether I’m dressed up to fit the fashion, it’s rude to drop me in on a family wedding without a proper invite.”
“It’s not like that. I can bring any guest I want. They’re not that horrible,” he chuckled. “They just don’t know the depth of my feelings for you.”
“And you think it’s wise to have me dress up like I’m one of them—when I couldn’t be more different—so they’ll accept me, and then everything will be fine?”
“I just want you to have fun and not be intimidated. You don’t have to, though. I guess it is rude of me to hire the stylist.”
“It is,” I said with a laugh. “But I understand you have good intentions. I only hope it doesn’t backfire on you when I show up as my glamorous self.”
“It won’t.” He hugged me and kissed my head. “Thank you, baby.”
John said that with a confident grin that I had to imagine was what he offered his family when he most likely got his way with them. Good grief, what the hell was I getting myself into? One thing was for sure: I needed my aunt and my sister’s style advice for this.
Chapter Forty
Mickie
I didn’t know much about places overseas, except that they filled my bucket list—or more like my fuck it, this will never happen list—and yet, here I was in Monaco. At first, I thought Monaco was in France, so it was a good thing I took some time on the long-ass flight to Google it and find out that I was wrong. Monaco was the second smallest country in the world, but I let myself off the hook by thinking it was part of France because France surrounded Monaco on three sides.
It was so exciting to be here, standing on this terrace and capturing the sparkling hues of the Mediterranean Sea. This place made me feel as though I were living in a fairytale and made me wonder if Grace Kelly felt this way when she married Prince Rainier.
I would have loved to fully immerse myself in this place’s history; however, an extremely intimidating date was on full approach. I was doing all I could not to seem like a fish out of water while joining my boyfriend’s family for an overly ostentatious wedding tomorrow.