Cheeky Romance by Nia Arthurs EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Authors: Nia Arthurs
- Language: English
- Genre: Black & African American Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
THATVEGAS NIGHT
VANYA
CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR VEGAS WEDDING!
I stare at the cheap printed card and then the plastic rose with a pair of
pink fuzzy dice attached by a thong and wonder whether I’ve officially
entered the Twilight Zone.
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This has to be some kind of joke. First of all, I’d never get married
wearing a tacky… wait—is that dress made of toilet paper? I peer closer at
the photograph attached to the card. That’s not possible. I’m a lover of
fashion, elegance and fabric not used to wipe butt-cracks. Secondly, why in
the name of Vera Wang would I get pretend-married to Hadyn wearing a
tacky toilet paper wedding dress?
And thirdly, nothing that happened in Vegas was supposed to follow me
home and punch a hole in my perfectly organized life.
So why are these cheap gifts attached to a very real looking marriage
certificate?
I squeeze my eyes shut.
This isn’t happening.
I open my eyes and the wedding photo is glaring at me again, evidence of
that night two weeks ago.
The night I made the second biggest mistake of my life.
The door to my dressing room bursts open.
“Vanya, what’s the hold up? They’re waiting for…” Juniper, my
manager, skids to a stop when he sees me half-draped against the vanity
mirror.
He inches forward, steps steady as if he’s approaching a wild horse.
“Look, I know you’re not a fan of old-fashioned corsets, but the designer
specifically requested it, so—”
“Help,” I croak.
Juniper’s jaw drops to the ground. He’s a broad-shouldered guy with
smooth dark skin and a head full of thick dreadlocks. Barely discernible
tattoos crawl out of the sleeves of his fashionable silk top.
There’s rarely a moment when my manager is lost for words.
But I guess there’s a first time for everything.
“Here.” I shove the wedding junk at him.
“Who took such an awful photo?” Juniper mumbles, his eyes sharpening.
He’s right. I can pose to within an inch of my life and, somehow, the
photographer managed to make me look like a Beluga whale had a torrid
affair with a raccoon. The mummy-like toilet paper dress is unravelling and
doing zero justice to my curves.
“Is that why you’re upset?” Juniper tuts. “Don’t sweat it, honey. We’ll
call it a ‘high concept’ editorial. You know the masses won’t care if you stick
a fancy label on it.”
“No, Juniper. I need you to look again. Closer.”
He blinks and gives the photo another scan. “Hadyn Mulliez. You and the
playboy billionaire are hanging out now? I thought you hated him?”
“Hate would require emotions. I tolerate him.”
“Same difference.” Juniper flicks a finger at the Polaroid. “What does this
picture mean?”
“It means he’s my husband.” The words send a shudder down my spine.
Please let this be an awful dream.
Juniper startles. The photograph slips out of his hand and wafts to the
ground. For a second, all that can be heard is the pounding of my own heart
and the electric buzz of the air conditioner.
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