Husband

The priests in Vegas should stop officiating marriages in the dark hours of the morning

Rachel's POV

"I'm a lawyer, Mrs. Peters," the man uttered, coming off as offended. "As you can see that certificate is as legit as legit gets. The signatures are there to prove it."

My gaze hastily dashed to the end of the paper at the mention of signatures. What I thought to be a joke became real by the second as I spotted my signature beside another with the name Lorenzo Caden Peters.

"You have got to be kidding me," Debby was the one who spoke as she materialized on my left and peered over my shoulder. "That's your signature Rach."

"How is this possible?" I interrogated, scratching my hair and blinked like a mad woman hence the events of the early afternoon happened to be driving me crazy. The throbbing in my head didn't seize either as it reminded me of my shitty hangover.

"Those are details that would be explained by Caden when you two meet," Xander informed and at the confusion on my face he went on. "I meant Lorenzo, I call him by his middle name."

"Okay," I said in a breath and gaped at the paper in my palm for the third time. "This is still hard to believe. I feel like this is some prank."

"Does the diamond ring on your finger feel like paper?" The lawyer whom I remembered his name as Attorney Dan inquired in irritation. 

Eyes widening in panic, I moved my hands, only to release a gasp the instant I caught sight of the sparkling diamond crested band on the fourth finger of my left palm.

"Do your crooked glasses want to meet with my fist?" Debby countered in an equal volume to the Lawyer's tone, anger growing in her form. "Can't you see the girl is trying to process things here?"

Taking a steadying breath, I detach my view from where it was stuck on the ring and faced Xander. "So you mean I got married to Lorenzo Caden Peters?"

"Yes, Mrs. Peters, according to the certificate in your possession," the Lawyer inputted before Xander could utter a word. I didn't miss the 'Mrs. Peters' he addressed me as. "The other copy is in Mr. Peters's possession as we speak."

"She wasn't talking to you Mr. Crabvoice," Debby muttered to the man as she seemed to be growing a hatred for him.

"Exactly Mrs Rachel," Xander declared cleverly avoiding calling me Mrs Peters hence he must have noted my expression when Mr Lawyer called it. "Can I call you Rachel? Seeing as we are going to be buddies soon."

"So where is my said husband at this time and why is he not here in person?" I asked, ignoring his question. 

He pouted for some moments before his signature amused smile returned. "Your husband is currently shooting the last scene of a movie he is staring in and asked us to bring you if possible."

Rolling my eyes at his childish pronunciation of 'your husband' to spite me, I bobbed my head and took a step back. "Can you gentlemen wait out here for some minutes while I make myself presentable?"

"Wait, why can't we--" Debby slammed the door in their faces cutting the rest of Xander's sentence off.

"What the fuck just happened?" Debby let out in inquiry, her attention solely on me.

"I have no idea," I murmured as I left the door and walked further into the room to search for comfortable clothes. "But I'm going to find out."

^^^^^^

"Can you come to the front seat?" Xander implored after we had dropped off the Lawyer at some fancy building. We were currently on the move to see Lorenzo and I was in the backseat while he drove, so I could sense where he was coming from. 

"Why?" I implored, my tone and expression innocent as I diverted my gaze from the window I was peeking through, to him. The breeze from the half-opened glass blew the strands that framed my face.

I made a good choice in bundling the untamed black curls in a loose knot just above my neck as I had little or no time to get prepared and follow them. I didn't even shower and I was certain I still reeked of alcohol despite the numerous times I sprayed myself with perfume.

My attire showed the lack of time I had hence I threw on a black tank top and grey sweatpants, my feet in black and white striped Addidas slides. I was sure my father would have a heart attack if he saw me thus he always drilled on the importance of a woman being presentable to find a reasonable suitor.

I wondered how his reaction would be if he found out I had gotten married. Imagining it brought a smile to my lips and a light chuckle as well as a shudder at the thought of him and Mom realizing I didn't invite them to the wedding.

"What do you mean why?" Xander asked peering at me from the center mirror of the car. "I look like your driver this way."

"Well, it's you who decided to drive," I stated, tilting my head to the side. "Plus it's your car, so.."

"So.." He mimicked urging me to go on.

"When you put the words Drive and Car together, the perfect ship name would be Driver," I declared causing his expression to drop in shock. I gave myself an invisible pat on the back for coming up with such a response.

"Wow," he laughed in disbelief as I grinned in return. "You really are something."

My response was to shrug as I gave back my attention to the window. "The drive from the hotel was an easy one, I was expecting a small crowd and a few cameramen."

"I might be handsome and also his bestfriend and manager, regardless, I'm only half as popular as your husband is," he conveyed to which I sent him a mocking glimpse. "What's that for?"

"Whoever told you, you are handsome?" I interrogated, a brow lifted, and he huffed.

"I might just throw you out of this car," he gritted through his teeth, rather it didn't phase me.

"You know you can't," I grinned back at him.

He gradually sucked a puff of air and released it after some seconds in a bid to calm himself. "So back to what we were discussing, it seems you don't have paparazzi tailing you all the time."

"I'm not a world-class actor like your husband, so no," he conversed. "Nevertheless, the press and crowd you are looking for are currently surrounding the filming venue as we speak."

"Wait up, and that's where you are taking me?" I interrogated, his statement settling in my subconscious. "Why didn't you inform me there would be paparazzi?"

"I thought common sense would explain that for you," he uttered, seeming unconcerned. I didn't blame him, he wasn't the one about to be humiliated.

"Why didn't you at least say something?" I raised a question, getting slightly irritated. "I appear like a hungover hobbo."

"Revenge has never tasted sweeter." It was his turn to grin at me in victory while I scrambled around in confusion.

"Turn the car around," I murmured, my tone unbelievably calm.

"No can do girl." He beamed at me and stepped on the accelerator. "As you can tell, I'm your driver."

"Drivers are made to take orders from their employers," I argued. "Turn around now."

"You didn't employ me," he countered.

"My husband did," I said, using air quotes for emphasis. "So technically I am your employer."

"I never knew you could stoop so low to use the 'husband' card," he mumbled, copying my actions.

"You've used it more times than I can remember since we met so it's only fair," I scoffed, slumping back in the seat.

"Anyway, there's nothing I can do, I have already informed him we are on our way," he answered, not bothering to glance at me as I stared at the back of his head that was leaning on the black leather seat of the Bentley. "Also we are almost there."

"I hate you." I pouted, though I knew that was far from the truth.

"The feeling is mutual," he retorted in an equal manner. A minute or two went by before he asked, "How do you feel about the thought of Lorenzo Peters being your husband?"

"Feels like a dream," I answered, the situation taking time to set in.

"Well that dream is about to become a reality," he declared as he steered the car toward the black huge gates. A crowd waiting outside as we drove past, some with cameras. 

Inside was the same as the car moved along the concrete flooring, around a water fountain before it parked in front of a one-story white-painted building with black modern sized glass windows and a flight of steps leading to the veranda.

Xander turned off the engine and swerved toward me. "Wait till I open the door for you."

I bobbed my head in understanding as cameras were flashing at the car, searching for something juicy which I was certain my presence would give them. He alighted, the crowd gathering around him like moths to a light.

He cleverly weaved his way between them and soon he was at my side opening the door. My head bent down, I stepped out of the vehicle. He gripped my elbow and guided me up the stairs.

The flashes were blinding as he steered me toward the entrance door guarded by two men in suits on each side. Questions like

"Who are you?"

"We haven't seen you before,"

"What's your relationship with Mr Rodriguez?"

"Are you here to see Mr Peters?"

"Are you the secret girlfriend of the world's best actor?"

Luckily they all disappeared once we were inside the building and I was eventually able to lift my gaze from the floor. I felt a light tap on my shoulder and turned to see Xander smile at me. "You should get used to this."

With that, he left my side while I peered around me. We were presently in what appeared to be a living room. Brown couches blended with the white paint on the wall and gold objects that decorated the space.

Everything was shining in gold, from the chandelier to the foot of the table and couches, to the flower vase, the art sculptures and picture frames. The floor was made of sparkling white tiles.

Videographers were busy disassembling their stands as things appeared to be wrapping up. A bald man in a suit whom I assumed to be the director was pointing fingers around and issuing out commands.

Scripts were gathered by about 3 people and placed in a box. Only 2 cameramen were not moving as they happened to be taking pictures. I sighted Jonathan Grey, Alice Mccoy, and about 3 other actors in the perimeter as I unknowingly searched for the man who had become my husband.

He decided to find me before I did him, or rather his gaze did thus I sensed someone gaping at me from a corner at my right. Tracing the source, my eyes landed on him.

Social media pictures and movies he had featured in should have prepared me, rather it all came off as a waste because it felt like I was hit by a brick. 

There he stood, captivating grey eyes boring into mine, muscles taut and slightly visible by the white long-sleeved shirt he had on and navy blue slacks.

His hair was styled in its known rough style, a stray strand falling across his left eyelid. My eyes zeroed in on his sexy nude lips which he tilted in a smirk as he noticed me gawking.

A brown-haired elegant woman whom I'd seen a few times in movies was hanging on to his arm while they took pictures. She was in a floor-length princess-styled blue dress and both were holding flower bouquets in their hands.

They appeared fitting for each other and I guessed she was the female lead in the just concluded drama. She was whispering something to him but he seemed inattentive as his sole focus was on me, those eyes boring into my soul.

"Come here," he mouthed. No sound left his lips, and not a pinch of his voice was heard, however, those 2 silent words held a command and strength I couldn't disobey. Even my body reacted as electricity pulsed in my bones inciting goosebumps on my skin.

'Jesus Christ,' I muttered in my head as I felt compelled to do his bid. 'The dude hasn't even touched me and I'm melting.'

Observing my delay and haze thus it must have appeared on my facial features, he tilted his head to the right and stared at me pointedly. He decided not to be silent anymore as his thick voice carried that one word, "Come."

I was suddenly in the spotlight as all pairs of eyes in the room diverted to my location. A blush rose on my cheeks as people started whispering, even the director gazed at me, a silent question in his expression.

An amused smile curled Lorenzo's lips as he continued to watch me. The female on his arm whom I finally recalled her name as Diana Monroe spotted a frown.

Gradually with my head held high, I ambled from my position between a few of the crew who made way for me. Crossed a few of their faces as their gazes burned holes in my skin till at last, I reached the smirking bastard.

He stretched out a palm and I had no option but to take it, a tingling sensation stirring from where our hands met. In a millisecond I was pulled the rest of the way, my chest clashing with his in a silent hit that knocked the breath out of me.

My cheeks flushed for the 3rd time that morning as his right hand circled my waist. His breath fanned my neck as he murmured for only the both of us to hear. "Hello, wife."

The whispers around us became louder and I didn't need to peer around to decipher that some had their mouths hanging open. The cameras flashed again, fiercer than when it was him and Diana.

Speaking of which, I heed a furious murmur and noted someone stomping their feet as a shadow left Lorenzo's side. All these while I refused to lift my head from his chest and instead gripped his shirt.

As if I wasn't blushing enough, the bastard chose that moment to place a kiss on my neck, provoking me to grip his shirt tighter as I bit my lower lip to hold in a moan. "Don't you have something to say to your husband, Rachel?"

"I think the priests in Vegas should stop officiating marriages in the dark hours of the morning."

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