A Billionaire for Christmas

Then a selection of wigs is brought out. All of them are very… pirate wench. But that’s fun, right? I choose a long red one with lots of waves. But wigs aren’t something I’m used to, so I’m surprised when they pull my hair back into a skull cap to get it all tucked away.

And the makeup is going on a little bit heavy… like my eyes are not smoky, they’re practically pits of darkness. Still, when the wig goes on for styling, it looks good. I don’t look like Emma anymore. But it’s fun.

I keep telling myself that as my wardrobe choices are presented. There’s a skimpy siren option—no, thank you. A long, ruffly thing that looks like a Victorian dressing gown. Pass. And a vintage white, off-the-shoulder mini-dress with a long lace train. It has more ruffles than I’m comfortable with, and the bell sleeves are way too wide to be practical, but it’s the only one that looks a little bit like a wedding dress. So I choose that.

It comes with knee-high boots that lace all the way up and it takes two people to get them on me. But ten minutes later they pull me out of the chair and twirl me in front of a full-length mirror.

Not bad… if you look at me from far away like the spectators who watch the pirate show.

But Jesse isn’t going to be looking at me from far away. This is a close-up moment if ever there was one. And I look like… Emma Dumas playing dress-up for a Vegas pirate show.

I cringe. Do I really want my wedding memories to be of wigs and gaudy make-up, a pirate mini-dress that looks more like a Halloween costume than a wedding dress, and knee-high boots?

No. No, I don’t. But not many people can say they got married on a pirate ship, right?

Then I rally. Because at least this is my decision. My mother would die—like die—if she were here. She would drag me away, call me insane, and then boss me back to Key West, pronto.

So I nod my head and smile at the team. “It’s perfect. I’m ready. Take me to my buccaneer groom!”

Maybe it’s not the dream wedding, but that’s how all perfectly planned moments go, right? They never turn out the way you think. There’s always a reality check.

Besides, we’re out of time. We need to be back home for Christmas Eve dinner or my mother will kill me. The whole ‘till death do us part’ thing will happen a lot sooner than we think if we don’t make it back in time for her carefully planned festivities.

They whisk me out of the room, down the hall, and I just get a glimpse of Jesse in full-on swashbuckling pirate gear as I’m led up a set of stairs and he’s pulled in the opposite direction.

Suddenly I’m surrounded by a bunch of scantily-clad women who are obviously part of the show.

“Just follow our lead,” one of them says.

“It’ll be OK, don’t be afraid,” another whispers in my ear.

“And when they set you free, just go with it. I promise you won’t fall,” the first adds.

“Wait.” I blink my eyes. “What?” But before I can ask responsible, pertinent questions about what the fuck ‘I promise you won’t fall’ means, I’m pushed through a curtain and walked out—

“Ho-lee shit,” I breathe.

I’m on the top level of the pirate ship looking down on a thousand people surrounding the front of the hotel, waiting for the show to start.

I turn to the girl next to me, a bouncy blonde wearing a fluffy pink and green tutu skirt. “What’s happening?”

And that’s when the music starts and flames start shooting up the wall behind me.

I jump. Because hot damn. That geyser of fire puts out some heat!

Then all the girls are dancing and swaying to the beat of the music. One pushes me forward and I stumble out onto a platform, then make the mistake of looking down.

“Shit!” I squeal, taking two steps back. But they push me forward again, and then two of them are lifting my hands up in the air and clamping thick metal bracelets onto my wrists. “Wait!” I yell.

But they do not wait. They attach my new bracelets to a chain affixed to the ship’s mast.

The show must go on, I guess.

I’m up in the crow’s nest, I realize. I scan the deck down below, looking for Jesse, but all I see are the siren girls, dancing around and having a good time.

Then a horn blasts, and more flames are shooting out across the little bridge. Another pirate ship. And that’s where all the buccaneers are.

I get lost in that sight for a moment. Because there’s like three dozen dancing, shirtless men over there and they are pret-ty nice to look at.