Page 62 of Fake Dark Vows
Moulin Rouge is ‘spectacular, spectacular’ as the song lyrics go. I don’t move through the entire show, mesmerized by the colors and the songs and the set. And the feel of Brandon’s shoulder brushing mine, the scent of his cologne, the way his suit jacket hisses softly whenever he moves.
We stop off at a champagne bar after, and make small talk about it—well, I make small talk, and Brandon listens with an almost-smile tugging his lips upwards at the corners. When I’m finished, he leans closer, cups my face in one hand, and kisses me on the lips. And I kiss him back.
My willpower has been blown away by the Brandon Weiss I’m spending time with now. Maybe that’s his aim, but I simply refuse to believe that he’s that good an actor.
Dinner the following evening is classy, small-but-perfectly-presented portions served on aesthetically pleasing dishes. I’m totally out of my depth, but Brandon skillfully steers the conversation towards topics that I can participate in. He’s charming, attentive, the perfect boyfriend. His fingers toy with mine across the table, and my chest swells when I notice our dinner companions’ smiles.
Until we get back to his apartment, where he drinks brandy poured from a crystal decanter and slumps on an armchair overlooking the New York skyline.
We still haven’t set any terms for our arrangement. It makes me feel uneasy, but Brandon is so unapproachable, his shoulders so stiff and tense, that I wimp out of raising the subject.
Before I know it, we’re boarding the flight to Vegas, being greeted by a stewardess with a wide smile and plumped-up lips, and settling into the first-class cabin where the seats are more comfortable than the couches in my dad’s living room.
We sip champagne from crystal flutes. Eat food with real cutlery. And I listen to the couple sitting somewhere behind us discussing the palazzo in Venice they’ve rented for the summer overlooking the Grand Canal. These people speak about money like candy. They ooze money from their well-groomed pores, and they probably don’t even realize that their accents are affected by dollar signs too.
“Are you okay?” Brandon asks when the plane is in the air.
The way he looks at me, I could almost forget that I don’t belong here, that when this is over, I’ll go back to my dad’s house and my regular life, and I won’t belong there either. I don’t know why I agreed to this whole fake-engagement thing. It was a mistake. A huge mistake. And I wish I could stop the plane and get off.
“Rose?” He must see the panic in my eyes. “You haven’t… You don’t want to pull out, do you?”
I slump back in my seat, stare out of the window at the puffy clouds, and force myself to take deep, steady breaths. When I’m ready, I turn back to face him. “We didn’t discuss what happens next. When this is over.”
He smiles at me like he’s humoring me for bringing this up when we’re already en route to Vegas. “Do you dislike me that much that you want to end it before it has even begun?”
The question takes me by surprise, but the irony isn’t lost on me. “I don’t dislike you, Brandon.” I keep my voice low. “I’m just not sure that I can do this.”
“But you’re doing brilliantly, Rose. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost believe that you mean it.”
“Mean what?” My stomach twists.
“That you’re in love with me. That you’ll say yes when I present you with this.” He pulls the Tiffany box out of his pocket, opens it, and turns it around to show me the pear-shaped diamond ring.
I stare at the ring, and then at Brandon. “Are you not going down on one knee?”
He grins at me. Before I can remind him that I was joking, he is on one knee, and the stewardess is standing behind him, both hands clamped over her mouth, and he’s asking me to marry him.
I hear squeals from the palazzo-couple. Gasps from the other first-class travelers.
Brandon is still watching me, every inch the doting boyfriend proposing to the love of his life.
“Yes,” I blurt out before bursting into tears.
Brandon kisses the corners of my lips, my tears, my eyelids. He kisses me on the mouth, and it is every girl’s dream proposal, a beautiful ring, a man who adores her so much that he wants the whole world to know.
And I close my eyes and go along with it, telling myself that everyone deserves a ‘happy ever after’.
CHAPTER 21
Brandon
We check into the Venetian on the Las Vegas strip. I chose it because I thought that Rose might appreciate the over-the-top opulence, the gilt-edged décor everywhere you turn, and the Grand Canal complete with gondolas. If you’re coming to Vegas, you might as well do it properly.
And I wasn’t wrong.
She walks around the suite touching everything, gaping, open-mouthed, until finally, she flops backwards onto the bed. “Pinch me now.”
I can’t help smiling at her.