One Bride for Five Mountain Men

It was half past eight as they sat in the limo that Don had sent for them and made their way through town.

“I could get used to this,” Lizzy exclaimed as she pulled out a bottle of sparkling wine from the side bar.

“Are you sure that’s for us?” Rory asked, feeling nervous to be sitting in there.

“Of course. Why else would they leave it there?”

“Cheers to the good life!” Before Rory could even say cheers back, Lizzy had downed the whole glass in one go.

“Easy, Lizzy! At this pace you are going to be drunk before we even get there.”

“C’mon Rory. Have some fun. It’s not every day that we get to live it up in a limo!” Lizzy replied as she poured another glass for herself. Rory realized that there was no way Lizzy was going to listen to her as she promptly turned her attention back to her wine glass. The limo sped through streets that she wasn’t very familiar with.

“Where the hell are we heading?” she said out loud to no one in particular.

“This is Glenley Hill. You don’t come here often, but I know this place like the back of my hand,” Lizzy replied mid-sip. “All the celebs that come down to Montcove stay here. Like, the most beautiful houses you will ever see!”

There was a remarkable shift in the surroundings. Rory thought where she lived was beautiful, but this was another level of gorgeous. Well-manicured lawns, picturesque structures at every corner, and huge villas lined up the roads. It was like Hollywood Hills but much bigger and a whole lot prettier.

Not long after, the limo slowed and turned right toward a smaller road, at the end of which they were stopped by big burly security guys. The driver rolled down his window to speak to one of them and Rory saw a whole bunch of paparazzi flashing their cameras.

She made an ugly face as she noticed Hector, the paparazzo who had visited her shop, staring at her through the window. He had an amused look on his face as he looked down at her, as if she didn’t belong there.

“Isn’t it exciting, Rory? Look at all the paparazzi.” Lizzy was like a kid in a candy store. “I hope they take a lot of our pictures too. Oh, I wish they had like a red carpet or something.”

“For a personal party? You gotta be kidding me.”

Much to Lizzy’s joy and Rory’s dismay, there was indeed a red carpet leading up to the house that was infested by a whole new bunch of paparazzi. When she saw sponsored banners there she realized that this was more than just a house party, and boy did she feel like a fool in that moment.

There were a few women walking in front of them and they were all dressed to kill in outfits that would fit well on a Paris runway. She wasn’t surprised when the paparazzi didn’t show any interest in snapping her pictures.

“Hey, you in jeans, get out of the way, you’re in the frame,” one paparazzo shouted at her, as he tried to snap a picture of Lizzy in her tiny dress. Lizzy was busy posing in all the poses that she had probably practiced in the mirror for years. For once Rory wished that she had listened to Lizzy and put on a glamorous dress. Damn, I need a drink.

As they got inside the main gate of the villa Rory was just awed. There lay a whole courtyard full of trees and plants, all draped in twinkly fairy lights. There was a fountain in the middle and different flowers lined the way. But this was not the main area of the party they realized, as a hostess quickly led them up the way, onto the side and to the big field that had a huge pool.

This was where the party was: about a hundred people were sitting and standing around circular tables sipping on bubbly and sampling hors d’oeuvres. Music played in the background, different scents of perfume wafted in the air, and this was without a doubt the most glamorous party Rory had ever been to. It took Lizzy barely a minute to find someone she knew, and she was quickly off to chat with them.

With nothing else to do and no familiar faces in view, Rory made her way to the bar to get a glass of wine. What the hell am I doing here?

As she sipped on the wine she thought of Arsen and this lifestyle. What was he complaining about? This place is gorgeous. Rory stared at the three-story mansion that stood before her. She couldn’t even imagine what it was like to live in a house like this. This was nothing less than a dream.

If I were this successful I’d be happy all the time. Rory really didn’t know what it would feel like to be winning at life. What does being good at something feel like? Rory thought as she strolled slowly around the grounds, taking a better look at the house. Realizing that the dark thoughts were entering her head again, she decided to get another drink when she bumped into a man with a long swath of hair.

Chapter 13

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Rory said instinctively before she looked up and realized that she was staring at the annoyed face of Mickey Nicks.

“Yeah! You should be. Wait… you are... that girl. Wait, how do I know you?” he asked as he struggled to light his cigarette with shaking hands.

“Er… You took shelter in my house from the storm. Remember? Just a few days ago.” She couldn’t believe his memory was that bad.

“Oh right!” he replied, but Rory wasn’t sure that he really did remember.

“Have you seen Arsen or Don around?” she asked, but Mickey’s attention was already lost on the two young girls who had slid up to him from nowhere. They had cleavage for days, impossibly short skirts, and long legs.

“Mickey! Have you seen Arsen or Don?” she asked again sternly, making sure she got his attention.

“Ugh… yeah… they’re around.” With that, Mickey turned around and led the two girls into the house. Was he drunk? Was he high? Probably both, Rory concluded.