Chapter 24

Vivienne

I can’t believe this is happening. Just moments ago, I was headed to the airport, listening to sad music and moaning about how David will never love me the way I need to be loved. I felt so stupid for allowing myself to believe that changing his image could change his heart.

But here he is, bent on one knee, finally baring his soul to me instead of just his assets. I don’t know where he got the courage to open up like this, but I think it’s safe to say that his transformation from the Debaucherous Prince to a more respectable King David is complete.

No offense to the tabloids, but I believe this is the first year he has truly earned his reputation as the Sexiest Man Alive.

This is what I’ve wanted for him all along—emotional integrity. My job was never to stop him from having fun or being himself. It was to help him find out who he really is so he can find lasting happiness as well as fleeting pleasure.

That’s my professional opinion anyway.

On a more personal note, now that I’ve seen the real King David, I’m hopelessly, madly in love with him. I mean, look at him: a big, strong king who’s practically in tears as he kneels on the palace steps, holding out a ring box and begging for my hand. It doesn’t get any sexier than that.

I drop my suitcase on the steps, and with it, all my doubts and fears. So what if I can’t keep David under control?

Real love can’t be tamed. It needs the freedom to speak its truth.

Fuck expectations. I’m going to give in to my desire and fling myself into David’s arms right here, right now.

“Yes, David. I love you so much—now and forever. Of course, I’ll marry you!”

He hugs me back for a moment and then pulls away, incredulous. “You’re sure about this? You really think you can love me forever?”

I nod, wiping tears away from my eyes. “Every fucking day. All the fucking time.”

“Even if I forget my language and you have to beg the fucking news stations to edit all the fucking fucks out of my fucking interviews?”

“Yes.”

“Even when you see my unauthorized biopic, which went into production long before I met you but should be aired on television any day now? But hopefully not until after the wedding?”

“Yes. I’ll close my eyes.”

“Even if I never make it through a single charity tea, holiday party, or press conference without putting my hand up your skirt?”

“Yes. Especially then.”

“Well, in that case...” David takes the ring from the box and slides it on my finger.

It’s a family heirloom, one I recognize, and I can’t believe I’m watching it sparkle on my own hand rather than seeing it in the pages of a magazine.

“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” he says. “I’ve never been this happy in my entire life.”

For the first time since I’ve met him, I lose all sense of decorum. I press his back to the ground, lower myself on top of him, and kiss him right on the palace steps for all the world to see.

Luckily, no one is around right now but a couple of pigeons hopping along the steps, looking for crumbs. And they don’t seem to be too interested in our love life.

After a few minutes of passionate kissing, David finally pulls away, gasping for air. “Vivienne, now that I have you here at the palace, may I show you something?”

“No, you may not,” I scold him, vigorously shaking my head. “You’ll scare the pigeons. Let’s wait until we get home.”

He laughs. “No, not that. I want to show you something in the ballroom. I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh. Well, in that case, yes. Lead the way.”

David insists that I put my hand over my eyes before we enter the palace. I can’t see anything, but I believe the ballroom is empty. I can hear only the click of my high heels and the pounding of my heart as I wait to remove my hand and see what he has planned.

Whatever it is, it couldn’t possibly top the sight of him waiting for me on the palace steps, holding out an engagement ring.

“You can look now, love.”

I pull my hand away and smile. I take back everything I just said. In front of me are the most beautiful wedding decorations I’ve ever seen.

He’s executed every last detail of my plans for the reception, right down to the white roses and hydrangeas. The candles are white to match the flowers, and the tablecloths look sufficiently strong and absorbent.

“David, this is beautiful! I didn’t even think you were listening to me that day when I was telling you what I wanted!”

“Then, I tricked you,” he says, beaming. “I’d never forget something like that. Although, I’m embarrassed to admit that I didn’t know what hydrangeas looked like before you mentioned them. I had to look them up. I think they’re my favorite flower now.”

“You have a favorite flower?”

I never thought I’d see David get so excited about floral arrangements. I can’t wait to hear his opinion on the napkin rings.

David nods. “Now I have something to talk about with the magazine reporters who are covering our wedding,” he says without a trace of irony. “I might even mention the color scheme.”

I burst out laughing. “How are we going to spin this one? No one will be expecting a white wedding from you, that’s for sure.”

David thinks for a moment. Then he turns serious.

“Did you know that there’s more than one shade of white?” he says as if he’s revealing a shocking scientific discovery. “The decorator told me this when I called to order the linens for the table. There’s ivory, there’s eggshell, there’s cream...”

“Perfect,” I reply, patting his arm. “We’ll tell them we’re having an eggshell wedding and let them try to figure out what the fuck that means.”