50 Shades of Drake 5 and 6

Chapter Ninety-Six

    "Fugly. Fugly. No. Meh. Sure, if you want to look like a Pokemon character." Carlos watched Destiny flip through a wedding dress catalog, and he couldn't look more bored if he tried. Decked out in his nerdy chic garb, he sat on his Italian leather sofa with one leg dangling over the other. He quite literally and figuratively looked down his nose at every dress that she pointed out.

    Running a hand through her hair, Destiny said, "The dress isn't really all that important."

    "The dress isn't really-" Carlos stopped in mid-sentence and clutched his chest. Looking up to the ceiling of his condo, he muttered under his breath, "Lordt, she not knoweth what the fucketh she sayeth, please forgive this bitch for her blasphemy."

    Destiny laughed. "I could wear a paper bag and not care, because I care about is the man I'm marrying, and the child I'm carrying."

    Carlos held up an index finger. "First of all - barz, mama. But don't go around making cute quotes like that whenever you're interviewed, or else everyone will suspect that you're Aubrey's ghost writer when he finally gets off of his ass and returns to music." Raising his middle finger next to his index finger, he continued, "And second, because of the man you're marrying, you can't walk down the aisle just wearing any old thing. Bitch, I know you and I and a lot of the world these days call him Aubrey, but he's Drake. The Drake. And you can't just wear any burlap sack of a wedding dress, you. Have. To. Slay, my dear. You have to wear a dress so classic that it's befitting of Beyonce. You want to end up on the fashion pages and for good reason."

    "You know I don't care about all of that."

    "Then move the hell over and let someone else worthy of marrying his ass get a chance," Carlos grumbled, snatching the wedding catalog out of her hands. "Because God knows that I nominate myself el primero choice as your backup in the event that your basicness overwhelms you."

    "If I'm basic, then Aubrey loves it," she retorted, shrugging her shoulders.

    Carlos narrowed his eyes, and she could tell he was racking his brain for a comeback. He gave up and rolled his eyes. "Fine I'll give you that, but before he started looking all crisp and clean in those damned suits, he had his Canadian tuxedo era. We've already visited this topic. Didn't end well for your boy." He licked his fingers and flipped to another page. "Can I just say how tragic it is you're looking for a wedding dress in a catalog at all? Again - you're marrying Drake. He has fashion designers at his beck and call. Pick one. You don't want to go for a dress that any old basic wench can point at in a catalog." With those words, he tossed the catalog down on the couch. "We should head to Melrose or Rodeo. Check out some real shops. Get some real inspiration."

    Destiny opened her mouth.

    He raised a hand to silence her. "And if you say anything other than 'Yes, Carlos,' I will kick your Aubrey-turned-me-into-a-hermit-ass-bitch-with-his-constant-dick-down-sessions self all up and through the hallway just outside of that door over there."

    "I was going to say that it was a good idea." She arched a brow at him.

    Grinning, he stood and extended an arm to her. "Oh - then pretend that I didn't say that last bit, then."

~~~~~~

    "When I think of Destiny's wedding dress, I think...modern-day Cinderella." Carlos spread his arms wide as they walked down Rodeo Drive. "I think epic, grandiose, the kind of dress that takes ten, twenty years for someone else to top. I mean...after all, Aubrey is kind of your nasty, perverted twist on Prince Charming."

    Destiny rolled her eyes while surveying the window displays of the shops they passed. "You act like that's all there is to him."

    "I know there's more to him, Des," he said, adjusting the Ray-Ban sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose. "But I can't very well compare him to a Disney character without making a disclaimer, because chances are the shit Aubrey is into would make Walt Disney roll over in his cryogenic chamber."

    She laughed and linked arms with him. "I think of him more like a king than a prince."

    "I'm sure you do," Carlos said, wearing a smirk.

    "And anyway, enough about me. Are you still liking your job?"

    "I don't think anyone would say that they like working in a mailroom," he said, chuckling. "It has its moments, these little bits of drama that I live for. I get to see the love notes passed between married co-workers, the interoffice mailers that go back and forth with hotel room keys dropped inside. It's very Young and the Restless in that bitch, but then again we have to look at who owns the company, right? Mr. Messy himself."

    Destiny pinched him. "If you don't leave my man alone..."

"You're going to what? Submissive me to death?"

    She stopped walking and punched him in the arm.

    "Ow!" he yelped. "Shit! Okay, I give, I give. Dayum." He rigorously rubbed his arm, slowing his steps to a halt just a few paces ahead of her.

    "Watch what the hell you say."

    For one of the first times since she'd met Carlos, he actually looked frightened of her...almost like he didn't even recognize her. "Damn. I will."

    She continued walking, passing him and tossing her thick curls over one shoulder.

    He jogged to catch up. "But one question before I start, like, behaving and shit."

    She rolled her eyes in anticipation of what no doubt would be an unnecessary, no-fucks-given question from him.

    "When Aubrey fucks you in the ass, does he leave his dick in there? Or does he ever take it out? Like...is it stuck up your ass right now? Because you're acting seriously uptight."

    She ignored him.

    "He knows that he's supposed to pull out at some point, right?" He went on. Then he cast a pointed glance down at her stomach. "Well duh, never mind. He obviously knows nothing about pull-out game. Front or back. Forget I asked."

    "Are you done with the fuckery now?" she asked him. "Will you help me find this damned dress?"

    Beaming, he nodded. "Yeah. I think I got it all out now."

    "It only took, what?" she asked, removing a pair of sunglasses from the outside pocket of her purse. "Three hours?"

    "What can I say?" he quipped, watching her slide on her sunglasses. "You and Aubrey bring out the extra in me."