Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 96(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 96(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
I drum my fingers against my thigh. I could be there in less than two hours. I could be there, have them packed and back to Vegas before my darling Mila wakes in the morning. Maybe then she’ll pick out a wedding dress.
I’m baffled as to why each and every decision about this wedding is taking her so long. First the list, now the dress. It’s her parents, I’m convinced. They don’t like me because I’m from Sin City and run casinos all over the world.
“Dearest, I hear you’re torn between the Oscar de la Renta and the Vera Wang. You don’t have to choose, you know. You can wear both.”
Guilt flashes in her eyes before she hides it. “I’ll pick one soon. I thought it would be nice if my mom helped me.”
“Great.” I clap my hands. “I’ll fly to her tonight and bring her back for you. You can pick out the dress tomorrow and be fitted for the alterations. Afterward, we can all go look at some houses in Henderson. There’s a couple in MacDonald Highlands that I think you’ll like. It’s on a golf course, and I can take your dad out on the links.” I like it when a plan comes together.
Her slim fingers catch my wool pants as I turn to leave. “Wait. I don’t think you should do that.”
“Why?” I’m tired of beating around the bush. “Is it the casinos? Las Vegas?”
She stands up, her fingers laced tightly together. “It’s the speed, Archer. They think everything is moving too fast.”
“And what do you think?”
Mila rubs her lips together. “I know you want to marry right away, but there is that saying for a reason.”
“What saying? The one that says Archer Valentine makes a damned fine husband and father? I didn’t realize that was so well known, but it does explain why so many women have been trying to become Mrs. Archer Valentine.” I meant it as a joke, but as soon as the words leave my mouth I know it’s a mistake.
Mila’s face hardens. “I know you’ve had a lot of women in the past, and that’s the whole point.”
Now I’m pissed. I grit my teeth. “It’s a flawed point because you’re the only woman I’ve ever had.”
“You just said you’ve had a bazillion women trying to get in your pants,” she fires back.
“To marry me. Not to fuck me.”
“It’s the same thing,” she yells. She stomps down the hall, the silk of her dressing gown billowing behind her. Instead of going into our room, she veers into the unused guest room and slams the door shut.
“This wedding is taking place on Saturday,” I yell. “And you can go in jammies for all I care.”
“Don’t shout at a pregnant woman! It’s rude,” she yells back.
I press a finger to my forehead. I need to control my temper. Ember says it’s my worst trait. I tip the bottle of wine to my lips and chug. When I get to the bottom, I’m still pissed. The only way I can resolve this is to take action. I’m not a person to sit around and wait for things to happen. I make them happen, which is why I’m flying to Colorado to fetch Mila’s parents. They can be unhappy and wary and full of objections, but they can do that here in a suite one floor down from mine.
I shoot off a text to get the plane fired up and then pull up the list of invites for Mila’s parents’ address. The ride to the airfield gives me some time to cool off, but even sober and calmed down, my idea still seems like the best one. As for the dress? I’ll make that decision, too. She can have both.
ME: Deliver both dresses and a tailor to my suite.
Ember: Both of them?
ME: Will that be a problem
Ember: You’re in a foul mood maybe go throw yourself in the pool that can’t be good for the baby or Mila
ME: Are you going to do what I ask or do I have to get someone else to help
Ember: I feel like you’re going to be divorced before the marriage takes place and that’s going to be some kind of Vegas record. Poor Mila
ME: Whose fucking side are you on
Ember: See? I’m putting you in a digital time out
ME: Ember don’t you dare
ME: Ember ffs
ME: EMBER!!!
I stare at my phone. There’s no response, and even as I dial her number, I know she’s not answering, but when I get the message that I’ve been blocked, it enrages me. I hurl the phone on the floor and slam my foot against the gas pedal. Why is everyone trying to stop me from marrying my pregnant fiancée? This is bizarro land, and I don’t like it. I’m Archer Valentine. In my empire, my word is law.