Page 220 of The Black Trilogy

Three hours later, I stood in front of a fat bloke dressed as Elvis with Black beside me. Thanks to the concierge, we had the licence thingy and a bouquet of flowers, and Nate had bought us rings.

Black squinted at one of the cheap gold bands. “They’re engraved?”

I leaned forward to see for myself. CB & MB 4EVA?

“What’s with the text speak?” Black asked.

“Chief Petty Officer Black and the Mad Brat Forever. Appropriate, huh? And it’s your initials as well, sort of. Get it?” He poked me in the arm. “Get it?” he asked again before noticing our exasperated looks. “What? The engraving was free. We might as well take advantage of it.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Black said dryly.

A lady with bouffant hair and a clipboard marched up, her face arranged in a fake smile.

“Ma’am? You’ll need to put the wine bottle down before the ceremony starts.”

“What?” I glanced at my hand and realised I was carrying a bottle of rosé. “Oops. Here, take it.”

“Have you written your own vows, or would you like to use the standard ones?”

Vows? I could barely even speak without slurring. “Uh…”

“The standard ones,” Black said.

He looked remarkably calm for a man about to sign his life away. My bottle disappeared, replaced with red roses, and Elvis coughed in front of us. Boy, his collar was really shiny.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God to join Charles Edward Black and Amanda Emerson in Holy Matrimony…”

After one small hiccup where I told Black I took him to be my wedded wife, we got through the ceremony and mugged for the camera while Elvis snapped a picture. Bouffant lady handed it to us minutes later in a cheap cardboard frame, our only reminder of this oh-so-momentous event in our lives.

“I’ll always be by your side, Diamond,” Black mumbled. “In spirit if not in body.”

Where had he got that whisky from? I wanted some, but Nate confiscated the bottle.

“Time to go, buddy.”

The wedding package included a limo, one of those tacky stretch ones with fancy lights and vaguely sticky seats, and we returned to our hotel as Mr. And Mrs. Black.

At that point, I was just trying not to puke.

“Now what, Mr. Black?” I asked as we staggered into the Bellagio.

“Bar, Mrs. Black?”

“A marvellous idea, Mr. Black.”

We could barely walk at all, let alone straight, and instead of ending up in one of the many lounges, we found ourselves at a poker table in Club Privé. Black shoved a pile of cash at a croupier as my buy-in.

“Happy wedding, Mrs. Black.”

He pressed his lips to my forehead then stumbled off to the speakeasy-style bar. He didn’t come back. Through drooping eyelids, I saw a slender blonde dressed in stilettos and feathers leading him by the hand as they headed towards the bedrooms, and although an irrational spike of jealousy flared in my chest, I quickly extinguished it with a gin and tonic. Black was my husband in name only. At least one of us would be getting some on our wedding night.

I didn’t even make it to bed, let alone with a man. When I woke in the bathtub the next morning, blotchy circles covered my skin, imprints from the pile of poker chips I’d fallen asleep on. Half a million dollars, I found when I counted them up. That was a lot of splodges. Really, I should play poker drunk more often.

Back home in Virginia, we had a late wedding reception for appearances’ sake. Neither of us could be bothered with the details, but the party planner went all out. Black knew loads of people and a few hundred turned up to offer congratulations, toasters, cutlery, and bed linen. Miriam arrived with a set of polyester napkins. Unfortunately, she didn’t keel over and die, but her face did go disturbingly purple as she berated him for his lack of prenup.

“Did you leave your brain at home when you went on your gambling spree?” she hissed. “Because I can’t see any other explanation. Where did you find her, anyway? On a street corner?”

“We met in a wine bar in London,” Black said, sticking to the cover story we’d concocted for the occasion. He gazed down at me adoringly. “And Emmy’s my soul mate. We’ll be together until the day I die.”

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