A Billionaire for Christmas

Which, now that I think back on it, could be interpreted literally.

The pirate wedding wasn’t a wedding but a show and if I had known it was a show, I’d have been properly nervous about it. But we had no clue what was happening. It kinda pissed me off when I realized it was a scam and we were not even going to get married at the end, but looking back on it now—hell, I was kind of badass swinging on those ropes trying to save Emma from all those hot, shirtless pirate dudes.

The skydiving wedding did give me butterflies, but not in a I’m-about-to-marry-the-love-of-my-life way. More of a I’m-gonna-die-in-the-next-thirty-seconds way.

This wedding though? This is how it’s done. As soon as we arrived and she was whisked off one way, and I was dragged off another, it was different. These fake Italian family members are really invested in this wedding. I have six groomsmen. All my age, all pretty good-looking dudes. And now that I see the bridesmaids coming down the aisle, I’m confident our wedding pictures will be amazing. I’m talking wedding planner brochure kind of amazing. I would not be surprised if Fingers uses our ceremony photographs to sell this Shotgun Wedding package in the future.

I spent most of the day second-guessing our spur-of-the-moment decision to elope in Vegas, but I’m pretty satisfied now.

Of course, that has a lot to do with the groom treatment I got while Emma was off getting ready. All of my groomsmen were very determined that I enjoy all the things waiting for me in the little groom cottage.

It was set up like a gentleman’s study. Think dark paneled walls, leather chairs and couches, a polished bar with every kind of top-shelf alcohol you can think of. They even had cigars.

I did puff a cigar for a little bit, just trying to relax after our crazy day. Of course, I didn’t drink, but that’s OK. They did enough of that for me.

They laughed and talked to me in Italian like I could understand them. And I nodded and smiled and just generally kicked back in a huge leather chair.

Then we all went into the steam room. I’ve never been a guy who likes a steam, but I have to admit it was a very nice touch. My sore muscles certainly thanked me afterward. We just sat in there for a good twenty minutes and I listened to them all talk. They’re very animated, these Italian dudes. And they all kinda look alike, so I think they’re really family.

The first three weddings were pretty cheesy, but this one… An A-plus effort, Fingers, my man. A-fucking-plus.

After the steam I took a long, cool shower and when I got out, there was a barber there to give me a proper shave. I’m talking this dude oiled me up, wrapped a lemon-scented hot towel all the way round my head to relax me, and then worked that shaving cream into my jaw until I had a fluffy cloud on my face. He skimmed that straight-cut razor down my jaw like an expert, gave me a face-wash mask, hot-toweled me again, cleaned off the mask, and then massaged some post-shave balm and moisturizer into my baby’s-butt-smooth skin so thoroughly, I felt like a new man.

He even trimmed and styled my hair.

Then they showed me the tux.

I have to admit, I was a little worried it was going to be shiny and cheap, but Fingers pulled through for me with a charcoal-gray jacket with tails and matching slacks, light gray waistcoat, white shirt with light gray pinstripes, and a yellow tie. Not what I would’ve chosen for my wedding day. It’s a little bit contrast-y for my tastes and it came with a top hat. But that’s kind of the cool thing about letting other people make choices for you. You get what you get and even if it’s not really ‘you’, you can embrace it because it wasn’t your choice.

I decide I love the suit and when I see all my groomsmen lined up before we walk, I think we look damn good.

None of them speak English. Or so they say. But they come with names like Marco, and Giovanni, and Leonardo, and I actually start picturing myself with these dudes as my buddies. I could use a few buddies. I wonder if the Shotgun Wedding is their day job or if they have other careers? I start picturing Marco as a finance guy in the city. He’s a fast talker with a loud voice and lots of hand gestures. Leonardo is slim and blond and comes off as an artist, moody and quiet. I picture him agonizing over color choice in his paintings. And in my head, Giovanni is some kind of professor. Probably history. Probably weird history. Like… gladiators. Or Vikings. Or the Persian Wars.