Hello LAlaland (Lost in LAlaland) by Madi Merek Page B

could wait a few minutes more. When the cannoli was gone, I licked my fingers clean of the powdered sugar and smeared a little between my breasts so Tony could have a snack later. I took a sip of the Monte Rossa Cabochon Brut , which Mama and Papa Ricci had gifted me from a recent trip to Italy, and picked up the note Tony had placed inside the cannoli box, knowing that I wouldn’t be disregarding this one like I had the last.

    My dearest Wini,
    A love begins much as a star is born—a violent shift in everything surrounding the moment—and that’s how it was when I met you. You’ve made me fall and tremble and break for your love, and I am a willing sacrifice. Now, you’re mine. Forever. And ever. And ever. And ever. And ever.
    Yours,
    Anthony

    With resolution and joy, I finally stood. My ivory garter belt was flawlessly in place, and I knew Tony was going to love my new bustier. Ash blonde curls hung over my left shoulder while the other side was pinned up by a beautiful butterfly comb. Marci carried my lace and ivory silk dress toward me. I designed it myself. The satin hugged my body in perfection, and the imported French lace overlay fastened with big pearl buttons down to my tailbone.
    Slipping into the dress, I waited patiently as Marci buttoned it while Ashley retouched my makeup. I’d chosen a soft palette for my wedding: beiges, golds, and mild pinks, but kept my signature retro, red lips. It served to exquisitely accentuate my fair skin, which had lost all its sun-kissed glow from the two weeks I’d spent lounging on the beach of Tropea, Italy with Tony.
    While we’d been sipping Merlot and eating pizza at the lovely little Vecchio Granaio Ristorante , I’d been going on and on about the beauty of the town that Tony’s family was from. I didn’t even registered when he slipped out of his seat, until the gigantic emerald ring was blinding me from its position on the table before me. The box was Tiffany’s blue, and I wondered if it was from that long ago day he’d followed me to Beverly Hills. When my wide eyes sought out Tony’s, only then did I realize he was on his knees beside me. His position was one of humility, which was exactly what he promised me as he asked me to be his bride.
    “Winifred,” he began as tears filled my eyes. “I’ve loved you for a long, long time. It hasn’t always been the easiest thing to handle, but I’d like to take the first step in showing that I’m on my knees, humbling myself for you. I can’t promise that it will always be perfect, but I know that we have a passion that is unlike any other I’ve ever experienced. They write books about this kind of love. And, if you give me a chance, I’d like to continue loving you for a lot, lot longer. Marry me, Wini.”
    It had been stated as less of a question and more of a demand, so typical of my man. Still, I’d managed to swallow the sob building up in my throat and nod with great enthusiasm before throwing myself onto him, tackling him onto the floor right there in the pizzeria. The scene might not have gone over well in the States, but thankfully, Europeans appreciated romance and cheered for us from their tables as we smiled and kissed and laughed.
    “All set, Winn,” Ashley told me, drawing me out of my thoughts once again. Glancing up from beneath the netting pinned into my hair with little silk flowers, I grinned at the lovely woman staring back at me.
    “Finally,” I breathed through a matte, crimson grin.
    A year to the day after our reconnection, we opted for an intimate wedding, allowing just family and friends to be in attendance—and no media whatsoever. At The Upper Crust’s New York Loft, we exchanged vows among candlelight and violin music. Though it was my second trip down the aisle, I wanted the ceremony to be as memorable as possible. This would be the one I knew I’d jumped into with both feet—the marriage I was ready for.
    We danced along with our guests to an array of music, from