His Marriage Demand

Drake nods and smiles, “It’s called payback for having to hear you go on and on about Marie. At least it was only two years of Ria, I had five years to hear about Marie.”

A woman comes out from the kitchen bearing a plate and gives Drake a hug, “The both of you still piss me off to this day, Drake Hawthorne. You knew I was crazy about him. You knew he loved me and you kept your mouth shut. Sit, all of you. I have three different menus for us to enjoy.

It’s nice to meet you Ria, I’m Marie. Married to idiot one for not nearly long enough, and known idiot two for longer than I care to count. Idiot two told idiot one don’t throw four years at Harvard away for a restaurant. For long hours he went on and on about how restaurants fail, and it was the stupidest thing he can do. Then what does he do? When idiot one ignores him and does it anyway, he invests way too much with no re

turn for three years. Then the returns start coming but not enough to support a family, so idiot one still won’t ask me to marry him because he can’t support a family. So what does idiot two do? He invests even more money in this place, in this address. Now, I get to hear them up until all hours of the night drinking fine wine like it’s water, drowning their sorrows like teenagers.”

Both men are looking at her with affection. I’m not jealous. I’m really not, I tell myself as I lean into Drake. Drake looks down, smiles, and kisses me on the temple as he pulls me close.

Marie sighs at us, “I like you, the other one, ick. Her eyes roamed everywhere, your eyes only on Drake, that’s good. I’m glad for you both, now I’m going to proceed to be bitchy again because I’m having the worst morning sickness with this baby. Eat.” She orders, it’s said so fiercely, I pick up a fork immediately.

The time flies until Jane is urging us into movement to make it to the cake tasting. I’m slightly tipsy from the wine, and feeling very loved and indulged as Drake helps me to the car. He presses a bottle of water into my hand.

“Drink, sweetheart, you had more wine then I think you’re used to. The cake will help soak up some of that. I don’t want you getting dehydrated.”

I lean into him and drink the water, “I love you,” I whisper into his ear and am thrilled to feel him shiver at the words, “I love that you love me, too, and the way you take care of me. This day already feels like it’s taking forever to be over.”

Drake’s arms tighten to the edge of pain, “Definitely, too much wine. Drink your water and behave or we’ll have Jane running for the door.”

“Tell me about Fernando and Marie.” I beg.

“I’ve known Marie for what feels like my whole life. Her mother was my father’s secretary. She came to work for me when she got out of school, she’s always been there. I met Fernando at Harvard, he was a nice guy who was miserable, going through the motions of family expectations. He was third generation Harvard and I was fourth. We commiserated, he was a genuinely nice guy and we became friends.

When he left New York and came to Chicago to work for me, I knew he was edging away from his old life. Then when he got here, he went on and on about what he really wanted. His love was obvious when he met Marie and I said fuck it, if I could help him I would. He loved her but he felt he needed to be able to support her and a family. I don’t regret it at all, not even not telling her for years, she had some growing up to do. Her mother had indulged her, it was good for the both of them for her to learn she couldn’t get what she wanted as soon as she wanted it.”

I love him a little bit more hearing what he had done for his friend. I finish the bottle as we pull up to the cake shop. Once we get there, he tells me that he doesn’t care if it was mango, chocolate chunk with pistachio, all he cares about was it was buttercream icing, as fondant is disgusting. I nod and agree and watch as the cake maker goes pale then smiles at the challenge and pulls out cakes done in buttercream. While I go through the books, Drake teases me below the table. I had worn a long skirt, he’d picked out the sheer panty and bra set edged in lace I was wearing. He’s driving me crazy. Finally, I wonder aloud if maybe fondant wasn’t so bad and he gets the hint and behaves. We pick out a two tier basic square, with a slightly smaller top in vanilla cream on a larger square of red velvet at the bottom.

Jane had brought the invitation for the wedding, the artistic one of the two cake makers drew a sketch that both Drake and I shrug at, it was okay. Once we finish picking the flavors the artist came back with another sketch. It was beautiful, parrot tulips and peonies in dark shades of purple going lighter all the way into white up the side of the cake. It was a lot like the centerpieces that would have a mix of parrot tulips and peonies. My bouquet would be classic tulips in white and varying shades of purple. I can’t hold back my smile as I say it’s the one.

My happiness disappears when Jane comes back from taking a phone call outside. “Drake, Graham caved. He’ll do the pictures but at four, not two.”

Drake says nothing, simply holds out his hand for the phone. With a few movements he finds the number and hits send. “Graham, this is Drake Hawthorne. Four won’t work, it’s after twelve and before three or it’s nothing. The pictures need to be ready to go into the Tribune. I spoke with the newspaper and the latest they can hold printing is until five. If those times aren’t agreeable to you, we’ll go to New York. Jack Tate has already agreed if you aren’t available at the time I need. I need to know now so my pilot can file the log. What’s it going to be?”

There’s silence for only about two seconds. Then the man is giving in, his words short and terse. “Two it is. We look forward to seeing you then.”

Everyone in the room, including me is staring at him in awe. I have no doubt he’s speaking to Graham Nathaniel, a man who had shot more Vogue covers than anyone else in the last ten years. Graham moved to Chicago a year ago to be near his ailing mother, he still took jobs but was very selective. Jack Tate had stepped into the vacuum Graham Nathaniel had created by leaving. There had been a war of words among the gossip columns between the two men. How did he do that so easily? How was he able to bend others to his will without even raising his voice? Drake is the first to speak. “Jane, what is next on the agenda? We have only another hour. I want to get Ria into the stores picking out clothes for the pictures.”

“Yes, of course. The favors, I have a large selection in my office. It’s actually in walking distance from here, three blocks up.”

The moment we step out of the cake shop, I cling to him. “Drake, about the pictures and announcement. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“You don’t think, you let me do the thinking.”

Really? I’m so pissed I stop walking.

With a sigh, he looks down at me. “Do you know how much I love you? Do you really think I would let anything or anyone hurt you?”

His eyes are glowing with the truth of his words, with a sigh I give up and hug him close. Fine, he was right, I wouldn’t do any thinking. I love him and trust him. I’m actually shuddering at the idea of someone being stupid enough to try and go up against Drake.

Drake’s arm goes around me and he’s careful to slow his pace to my much shorter legs. The walk is quick, I’m a little surprised to see how much Jane’s office looks like a tornado hit. She throws her purse on her desk, waving us down the hall to another room. Exploding in party favors, there are so many, it’s overwhelming. I’m shocked by the amount of serious bling on show. Of course, Drake isn’t.

He looks down at me, “Ria, do you trust me on this?”

“Please.” Is my answer as my brain struggles to take it all in.

“None of this crap. A bottle of Krug Champagne 1985 and two Waterford flutes.” His fingers work his phone quickly, bringing up a page, and hands the phone to her. “These, nothing showy, they won’t work with us on etching with how quickly we need them. Just add the date of our wedding and our names and slap it on the back of the label of the Krug. As far as the bridesmaid, who are going to be your bridesmaids?”

I’m stunned at the question. I don’t even have to think. “Latisha, she’s my only real friend from work and she helped get us together. Do I have to have more? I thought we were keeping it small. I could only come up with twelve names for the invitations and they’re all former coworkers except Justin’s sitter.”