It's a Fugly Life

  “Please, stop staring. It’s making me feel self-conscious,” Max said with a grin from the seat next to me as his private plane touched down in the small Santa Barbara airport. I tried not to let this lifestyle go to my head. None of it was really important at the end of the day.

  “Sorry, I can’t help it. None of this feels real.” By tomorrow evening, we’d be husband and wife. Maxwell Cole and Lily Snow. My ex-boss and the girl who’d never had a kiss until she met him.

  He ran his thumb over my bottom lip, beaming at my face. “No, it does not.”

  “How did you see yourself getting married? In a big church in Italy or on a yacht?”

  He chuckled. “What in the world makes you think I ever wanted to get married?”

  Oh. “You didn’t?”

  “No. I had my company to keep me occupied.”

  “And you had women like Adeline to keep your bed warm,” I said.

  He made a noncommittal shrug. “I was a declared bachelor and had no interest in anything serious with anyone. Least of all Adeline. But then I met you, Lily.”

  His words made me feel all toasty and gooey inside.

  He continued, “I’m not sure the exact moment it happened, but I realized that life could be better with you in it. I could be successful and happy.” He shook his head. “I never thought happiness would be in the cards for me. There was only moving forward.” He kissed me, and the velvety softness of his lips made me melt.

  Then it made me super horny.

  I leaned into him, deepening the kiss. I placed my hand on his thigh and slowly ran it up to his groin, where I found a very hard and long something wonderful.

  He pushed my hand away and broke the kiss. “Uh-uh. Not until the wedding night.”

  “What?” I protested. “Who set up that rule?”

  “I did. Otherwise, I doubt we’ll ever get through the actual ceremony. Or the dinner.”

  “Come on. The bathroom’s right there.” I pointed to the teeny room. “We can totally fit.”

  Meanwhile the plane had completely stopped.

  Max unfastened his seatbelt and adjusted himself. I could only stare hopelessly at the magnificent part of his body he’d just denied me.

  “So I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” He pulled my carry-on out of a small closet near the front exit and set it down.

  “Yes.” I pouted. “And tell Mark no hookers, strippers, or too much scotch. I need you disease-free and hangover-free tomorrow.” Mark Douglas, the guy who had been my mentor and was Max’s friend, had planned some sort of private bachelor party thing at a posh club in L.A.

  I stood and walked over to Max, taking one last look at him. He was so beautiful, more now than ever because I loved him so much.

  “All right now.” He scooted me toward the door, which had been opened up by the copilot.

  I suddenly felt nervous, my stomach knotting, my pulse racing, my brain scrambling to keep me from feeling like something was going to go wrong.

  “What?” Max gripped my shoulders, probably noticing my extremely pale face.

  I took a breath and closed my eyes. Breathe, breathe, breathe. The sensation started to subside. “Nothing, just a little woozy from the flight, I think?” I made a little circle on my stomach.

  “You sure? I’ll cancel the party if you need me to stay.”

  How sweet. “No. I’m good. I promise.” I stepped toward the door, doing my best to hide what was really going on. Horror. Crippling horror. That voice inside my head telling me that something would get in our way, that I’d ruin it. I didn’t deserve him, and sooner or later, he’d come to realize it, leaving me with nothing but a giant broken heart.

  Stop it. Cold feet, you idiot. Perfectly normal. I went to my tiptoes and gave Max a peck on the lips. “I love you, Mr. Cole. Have fun tonight, but not too much fun.” I winked and descended the staircase.

  “I love you, too,” he called out. “No getting arrested, Miss Snow!”

  “Har har.” I was going to my parents’ house for the night. Danny was already here in town with Calvin, though he wasn’t invited. Girls only. Okay, except for my dad, who planned to hide in his room, watching a game. My longtime childhood friends Kate and Nell were coming over, along with a few of my mother’s best friends, who were more like her sisters. We’d planned to do floral arrangements, play a few games—they were going to drink champagne, I was not—and watch some movies—The Proposal or Maid of Honor—chick-flick stuff.

  I waved at Max and smiled. There was this moment where I think he realized that my smile was a lie, but I turned and headed for the parking lot, where my mom was waiting to pick me up.

  I heard the door of the plane close and the engines start up.

  Everything will be fine, Lily. Everything will be fine as long as you don’t fuck it up.

  “Lily, you look absolutely gorgeous.” The next morning, my mother preened over the white veil stuck to the tight bun on the back of my head while I finished my makeup. Today, I felt like a princess. I woke up late after a long night of girl-fun, the best part being watching them get hammered and act like total idiots, including my mother, who decided to show us dance moves from the seventies.

  We’d finished up tying the ribbons on the floral arrangements we’d all made last night, and my father had taken them over to the church this morning.

  I texted Max, but didn’t hear back from him until one-ish.

  Me: how’d it go last night? Any unusual rashes? Incriminating photos?

  Max: very tame evening. See you soon

  Tame, huh? I found that hard to believe, but okay. As for me, the jitters were only getting worse. I’d had a nightmare of me standing at the altar in my dress, facing Max and Patricio in their tuxes. “Who do you choose, Lily?” they repeated again and again. “Tell us who!”

  “I choose Max,” I’d say and then Patricio would begin yelling, “You are making a mistake, Lily! He will never stand by you! He is not loyal.” Max would simply stand there staring at me. Not a word in his own defense.

  “Honey,” my father peeked into my bedroom, which was now their guest room, “the limo is here.”

  I stood up, trying to keep my head on straight.

  “Oh, baby. You look beautiful in that dress.” My father’s eyes began to tear. I wore my mother’s wedding gown. She and I were the same size—or more accurately stated—she’d been my size when she got married. She’d had to let the hem out a little because I was an inch taller than her, but that had been it.

  “Thanks, Dad.” I kept my fake as hell smile stuck to my face, and I didn’t plan to let it go.

  “Oh, honey, stop that. You’ll make her cry,” my mother warned and then looked at me. “Okay, Lily. See you at the church. Careful not to forget your bouquet and don’t wrinkle the dress.” She leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “Oh. And don’t forget to pause for the photographer when you come inside the church.”

  My stomach turned to cement. Ugh. Photographers. I knew my mother had referred to the one we’d hired for the event, but I knew there’d be more, thanks to her “tight-lipped” friends.

  “Got it.” I flashed a smile her way and took one last look at myself in the mirror. My brown eyes were a little puffy, but other than that, I looked flawless. I’d done an almost perfect job covering my scars and my long hair was pulled back into an elegant, smooth bun so I wouldn’t have to fuss with my long hair today. I’d leave the hair fussing to Max. Tonight. In bed.

  During the short ride in the back of the white stretch limo to the church, my father became unusually quiet.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Then why do you look like you’re going to a funeral?”

  He patted my hand. “Someday, your child will grow up, make you crazy with worry, make you proud, and then you’ll be watching them get married. It all happens so fast.”

  “Do you regret any of it?”

  “Only having children.” He cracked a smile.


  “Funny.”

  “I regret not enjoying it more. We spent so much time concerning ourselves with you and your brother that we often forgot about our own happiness.”

  “So you weren’t happy?”

  “I was. I am. Thanks to your mother, because I always knew no matter what, she would be there by my side. Even through the worst of it.”

  I tried to imagine the things they’d gone through raising the two of us. A son who would never walk and a daughter who made people stare.

  “Well, you did a great job.” I petted the top of my bouquet—one white lily surrounded by baby’s breath, wrapped up in pink satin ribbon. “I’m talking about me, of course. John is an idiot, but there’s nothing to be done about that.” I cracked a smile.

  My father laughed. “Well, looks like we’re here. You ready, honey?”

  “Ready.” I felt calm and comforted by my little chat with my father. It made me realize this was only the beginning of a long road ahead for Max and me. But together, we just might get through anything.

  I scooted forward on the seat, and my dad reached for the door. A few news crews approached, but I’d been expecting them.

  “Go ahead. It’s okay,” I assured my father. He was no fan of these people whatsoever.

  The limo driver opened the door, and my father got out. He held out his hand, and I took it, carefully extracting myself so I wouldn’t catch the veil or dress on anything.

  Once outside, the news crews crowded us, lobbing their questions. Not wanting to see them or ever look back on this day and remember them, I looked at my father and focused on his glowingly proud eyes. Nothing else mattered. Not even the crowd of onlookers who’d gathered across the street.

  Almost to the open double doors, I spotted our photographer waiting, crouched a few yards inside, kneeling in the aisle.

  I did it. I made it. Easy sailing from here. I glanced down and noticed my empty hands. Crap. “I forgot my bouquet. Be right back.” I turned and scurried back to the limo parked curbside and grabbed my bouquet from the seat inside.

  Halfway back to the church door, another news crew rushed me.

  Fuck, no. Not these guys. They were the same assholes who’d shown up at my apartment when Max and Patricio had gotten into a fight. They were one of those TMZ type programs, only they lacked any morality whatsoever—spying on people through windows, reporting any rumor they heard regardless of the damage they caused. These guys were vermin.

  “Lily! Lily! Have you seen the photos yet, Lily?” the scumbag yelled. “How do you feel about your fiancé having an affair with Adeline Taylor?”

  I gave the man a disgusted look. What an asshole. Seriously, what kind of person runs up to a bride and asks about her groom’s exes? I kept on walking.

  “Are you going through with the wedding? Did you know he spent the night at her hotel last night and didn’t leave until ten this morning? Have you seen the photos of the two of them kissing at the Blue Electric last night?”

  His words stopped me in my tracks, and my shock only encouraged them. The Blue Electric was the club Max had been at last night for his bachelor party.

  No, no, no. What did he just fucking say? I stared at the ass-faced reporter standing in front of me with a sadistic smirk on his lips as his crew filmed my reaction. They hoped I’d cry for the entire world, didn’t they?

  Maybe I would.

  “Tell me, Lily, how does it feel?” He urged the cameraman closer and shoved the microphone an inch from my face. “How does it feel to know your fiancé cheated on you last night, the night before your wedding?”

  I tried to blink away my tears, but his words felt like a red-hot fire poker through my collapsing heart. After everything that had happened, every tear shed, every moment of struggle, and the promises made, I couldn’t believe it had all led to this: emotional annihilation.

  The bastard cheated on me?

  What did you expect, Lily? Princes don’t fall for frogs. Not in real life. He wanted to have a beautiful life, a perfect life. He wanted a beautiful wife and beautiful babies. I couldn’t give him those things.

  I dropped my bouquet, smoothed down the front of my white dress, and lifted my chin. “It feels like shit.” I turned away from the church, ignoring the roar of the press, and got into the limo. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had heard my father calling me, but I couldn’t face him or anyone. I felt crushed. Crushed beyond all belief.

  “Drive!” I told the chauffeur.

  “Is something the matter, Lily?” I looked up at the familiar face in the mirror.

  “Callahan? Where did the other driver go?” I barely remembered what that guy looked like because I’d been so distracted with the wedding, but I knew someone else had driven us to the church.

  “The other driver will take your family to the restaurant. Mr. Cole wanted me to drive you two after the ceremony for privacy purposes.”

  Like sex, I assumed. Wow, what a thoughtful sonofabitch.

  “Miss Snow, what’s going on? Why aren’t you inside?” Callahan asked.

  “I’m not getting married. That’s why. Can you take me to my apartment, please?”

  “Of course, Miss Snow. But…are you sure?”

  “Your boss cheated on me last night with that fucking bitch Adeline Taylor. So yeah, I’m sure.”

  Callahan gave me a look. “Mr. Cole was with me all night, Miss Snow. I promise. I drove the entire party to their hotel myself, and I…” He made a strange face and wiggled his head a little.

  “And what?” I snapped.

  “I carried Mr. Cole to his room. He was passed out drunk.”

  I looked outside at the crowd gathered around the church doors and my father tapping on the limousine window, trying to see inside.

  “Lily, I have sworn never to discuss anything pertaining to Mr. Cole’s activities, but I swear to you, that to my knowledge, Mr. Cole has not seen Adeline Taylor once since—well, I can’t actually remember the last time. It’s been that long.”

  What the hell was going on?

  “Do you have a phone? I need to check something.” My cell was at home. I hadn’t wanted to carry it around all night, and everyone I cared about was supposed to be with me.

  Callahan slipped it from his coat pocket and held it over the seat. I crouched down and grabbed it. I took a seat and typed into his browser “Adeline Taylor and Maxwell Cole.”

  Immediately, dozens of pics and links popped up. Posted an hour ago. Posted forty minutes ago. Posted two minutes ago. “Scandal before the wedding night.” “Maxwell Cole bangs ex night before wedding.”

  I tapped on one of the links and a picture came up. It was Adeline Taylor all right. And she was kissing Max.

  Wait. I looked closer. The man wore a baseball cap and sunglasses, similar to something Max might wear if going into stealth mode. His stubble even looked the same. It really looked like him.

  I toggled to the next photo, a blurry thing showing the same man rushing across a hotel parking lot.

  It was Max. But… “This isn’t Max. This isn’t Max! Max would never wear a shitty pair of jeans like that. This isn’t Max! Why the hell is Adeline running around with some Max look-alike?”

  Callahan shrugged.

  “Ohmygod. Thank you, Callahan. Thank you so much.”

  “For what? I only told you the truth, ma’am.”

  I blew out a breath. “Because I almost fucked it up again.” I rushed for the door and pushed.

  My father helped me up and out and whispered in my ear, “Lily, what’s happening?” We were surrounded by press.

  I looked up at him. “I forgot.”

  He gave me a strange look and handed me back my bouquet.

  “I forgot that Max loves me.” I deserved him. I deserved him and everything wonderful in my life despite my imperfections. I couldn’t ever feel like I wasn’t good enough again.

  “Of course he does, Lily.” My father had this look in his eyes that said, No duh, baby. No
fucking duh.

  I took my father’s arm, and he walked me inside the church. The doors shut behind us and music filled my ears. At the far end of the room stood Maxwell Cole in his tuxedo, looking so goddamned beautiful that he stole my breath. His hair a fucking sexy mess, his jawline perfectly scruffy, a crisp twinkle in his hazel eyes despite being hungover. And those sensual, full lips…

  Scowling?

  Uh-oh…

  Max gave me a disapproving look, like he used to do when I worked for him. I now knew that when he got nervous, he immediately defaulted to his pissy-faced mode to hide it.

  I walked toward him down the aisle, too happy not to smile. By the time I reached him, he, too, was beaming.

  At the end of the aisle, my father kissed me and handed me off to Max. I could hardly contain all of the emotions inside my heart.

  “Miss Snow, I see you’re still having issues with punctuality,” Max whispered. Being late, even by two seconds, was something he used to scold me for when he was my boss.

  I grinned, knowing that this time it was his way of saying he was worried as hell that I wasn’t going to show.

  “Sorry, Mr. Cole. Just had a little hiccup. It won’t happen again, sir.”

  Our daughter, Iris, was born in February, exactly eight months to the day after our wedding, and aside from marrying Max, it was the happiest day of my life.

  Iris, named after the flower that symbolized faith and hope, was nothing shy of a miracle, and I felt it every time I looked at her. Yes, there was a moment when I laid eyes on her looking all newborn red and alien like, that I wondered if she’d end up like me. I still didn’t know. But the moment I held her in my arms, I knew I wouldn’t care if she turned out to be a beauty queen or average or just plain ugly in the eyes of the world. Okay, let’s be honest, with a father like Max, her odds of turning out reasonably good looking were pretty strong. All that said, she was perfect to me. So, so breathtakingly perfect. And I’d love her always, no matter what. Most importantly, I’d teach her to love herself. I’d make her strong and confident and she’d know she deserved “a seat at the table,” as Max liked to say.