Maiden Voyage, Part 2
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"Okay, Duke, put your hand on her shoulder and smile." We stood in front of the photographer in another forced pose and grinned for the thousandth time. I had managed to walk, hand in hand with the groom, down the aisle without falling. I had hoped, prayed, begged God that Duke and I would go off alone. Go somewhere we could talk, where I could warn him, tell him of the horrible mistake he had made. Tell him what Andrea had done to us.

Instead, Nikki had guided us to an empty portion of the deck, where a photographer took picture after picture, with the ocean in the background. It was almost too much. As I posed with Duke, with his best man, with his father, it was all I could do not to dive overboard. The only thing that kept me from screaming the truth was knowing that being exposed as a man-bride would be far more humiliating than playing wife for a day. At least there was no one from Andrea's family there who could recognize me.

"You look really nice," whispered my---my husband.

"Thank you," I answered flatly. While everyone tells the bride she's beautiful, I feared that people actually meant it today.

"Okay," said the photographer. "Now let’s get the couple kissing."

While I was able to conceal my disgust at partaking in a homosexual kiss during the wedding, I couldn't do it again.
"I need to sit down," I blurted, remembering just in time to keep my voice shrill. Without waiting for an answer, I slumped on a bench.

Nikki came over and handed me a glass of water. "Andrea, honey, I know you're nervous, but you have to pull yourself together. You have such a sour look on your face."

Making sure only Nikki was in my line of sight, I leaned in to her. "Bitch," I mouthed.

Nikki looked startled, then stood up. "All right, everyone. The bride's a bit pooped and the guests are waiting. Let's head on over to the reception."

My stomach knotted. I had hoped that there would be no reception, but of course there would be. Duke Greyson was rich, and he wasn't about to elope. The reception, I was sure, would be huge.

"Darling, shall we?" Duke touched my bare arm. For the first time that day, I got a good, undistracted look at him. He had black hair, and eyes so brown they appeared black as well. White, white teeth, and just a hint of five o'clock shadow. His face was handsome, unlined, and carefree.

I grabbed his arm. "Duke," I whispered. "We have to talk."

He looked concerned. I was glad he wasn't the type of guy to dismiss his new wife's concerns outright. "Let's have a seat," he said.

Some of Duke's family was milling around, and the photographer was smoking. "Not here," I said. "Let's go somewhere private."

"There'll be time enough for that on the honeymoon!" came a laughing voice. I wanted to spit. It was Nikki. "Come on, let's get over to the forward deck. You've got guests waiting."

Duke tried to protest, but was hustled along by Nikki. Before I knew it, we were headed toward the front of the ship, where a huge dance floor and buffet table were sat up. Hundreds of guests sat around the linen-covered tables.

"We'll sneak off as soon as we can," Duke whispered to me.

As we came to the reception, a twelve-piece band began playing a romantic pop song. The guests stood and applauded.

Flashbulbs began to pop. I was horrified to notice several of the photographers wore press identification badges for newspapers and less reputable tabloids. The media were covering the wedding! How was I supposed to escape, if the whole world knew Duke Greyson had married me?

We were ushered to the head table. The waitstaff began serving dinner, rare roast beef, chicken, or fish. I was a bit annoyed to be served a vegetarian entrée, but it didn't matter. I had no appetite.

Duke seemed concerned at my lethargy and kept patting my hand. I couldn't help but notice how soft his hand felt compared to my rough one. I pulled my hand away. I'm sure I didn't look like a happy bride.

I cringed when the MC announced the first dance. I allowed Duke to take my hand and lead me to the dance floor. As he put his arm around my waist I noticed how much taller he was than me.

"I thought you were going to wear heels," he said with a smile.

I shrugged and took his other hand. He led me around the dance floor, accompanied by the orchestral music and more flashbulbs.

I gritted my teeth in agony, I didn't care how the pictures turned out. When Andrea kidnapped me, it had never once occurred to me that her crazy plan would actually work! And yet, here I was, newly married, dancing with my husband in front of nearly a thousand people, and no one suspected a thing. I was living a nightmare.

"Andrea," Duke whispered. "What's wrong, love?"

I couldn't tell him here. Not in front of all those reporters. Much as I hated it, I'd have to wait until the reception was over. "Just a headache," I said. Then I smiled at him. In a few hours, his world would come crashing down. At least for now, he could think he had a wife who loved him.

I guess my little smile gave him encouragement, because he proceeded to mash his lips to mine. Not like the simple alter kiss either. He held his hand to the back of my head, and gently but forcefully shoved his tongue into my mouth. I was too stunned to resist. Later, when I looked at our wedding pictures, I had to laugh at the open-eyed look of shock on my face.
When more couples joined us on the dance floor, Duke sensed my discomfort and led me back to my seat. I managed to stay there until the toasts and speeches. It was interesting to hear Duke's family talk about me as if I were the real Andrea. Of course, none of them seemed to know her any better than I did. I got the impression their engagement hadn't lasted all that long.

Suddenly, I found the microphone in my hand. It was my turn. I wanted to give a short, dismissive speech, but held my tongue. There was no reason to be cruel. This wasn't Duke's fault.

"Duke--" I stammered. "I'm not good with words. I--I just want to say-- you're a wonderful man. I want you to know that. No matter what happens, remember--remember that I love you. Never forget that. I love you."

It was hard for me to say the romantic words, insincere as they were. Duke, however, seemed genuinely touched, and kissed my cheek as his took the mike. Guests clapped.

"Andrea, my love--you've made me so happy. I can't believe I haven't even known you a year."

You should've tried to know her a little longer, I thought.

"I'm not that great with words either--" some audience members laughed. Maybe he was good with words and was being modest. I certainly wouldn't know.

"I love you darling. All I have is yours. I promise to spend my life making you happy."

Don't promise what you can't do, Duke.

As everyone cheered, Duke kissed me on the forehead. He then turned to the guests.

"I want to think everyone for coming to celebrate with us today. Thank you for your presents, your well wishes and your love. We'll see you when we get back from our round the world honeymoon cruise!"

Oh crap. He wasn't planning on leaving tonight, was he? The horrifying thought caused me to look like a lobotomy patient during the cutting of the huge cake.

The rest of the evening didn't go any better. I was forced to make small talk with people I didn't know (but who knew Andrea), dance with Duke's father, and generally pretend I wasn't miserable. This went on for hours. Duke finally took my hand at one in the morning.

"What do you say we get out of here?"

I nodded, gratefully. Even if I wasn't playing bride, I would have left the party hours ago. I couldn't stand those pompous rich bastards, with their fancy food and their fake class. I was glad I'd be gone soon.

Duke and I reentered the ship under a hail of rice. I didn't have time to talk to him, we always seemed to be surrounded by sailors, staff, or other crew members. Finally, we walked down an ornate hall towards a pair of carved oaken doors. Door opened them, revealing a luxuriously appointed suite. The honeymoon suite.

"Duke--" I had to tell him, and I had to tell him right then!

"Hold on--" without warning, Duke swept me up in his arms, carried me across the room, and deposited me on the brass bed. As I set up, I could hear him close and lock the bedroom doors.

***

Things had to stop and they had to stop right there. I certainly didn't want Duke to get started on his wedding night duties!

"Duke!" I stood up.

"What is it, my love?" he asked, kicking off his shoes.

"Duke, stop. We have to talk." I edged away.

"Talk? On our wedding night?" Duke loosen his tie. "Can we do this later?"

"Trust me, we need to discuss something right this second."

Duke sighed and walked over to the nightstand. He removed a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket and began removing the cork. "So talk."

"Duke--there's no way to tell you this..."

The cork shot from the bottle with a bang. "Tell me what?"

For the first time since the horrible day began I felt more sorry for Duke than for myself. How do you tell a man his bride is a guy? That you're the guy? "Duke, there's something you don't know about me. Something terrible."

Duke was filling two champagne glasses. "Have you been married before?"

"No."

"Is there someone else?" He handed me my glass. I'd never tasted champagne before so I took a sip. Actually, I downed the glass in one gulp.

"There's no one else, Duke. It's much worse than that." Duke refilled my glass.

"Then what is it? Whatever it is, it won't make a difference to me, Andrea."

"Duke, will you listen to me?"

Duke wasn't listening. He placed his hands on my bare shoulders. "Could it be," he paused. "That you're not really Andrea?"

The sensual expression that had been on Duke's face was replaced by one of intense seriousness and concern.

"You--you knew?"

"C'mon, whoever you are." Duke's voice wasn't angry, it was hurt. "Do you think I wouldn't recognize my own fiancée? Your nose is different. Your voice is different. The freckles on your shoulders are different. You're close, but you're not Andrea."

I collapsed on the bed in relief. "So why didn't you say something before?"

"I couldn't during the ceremony. Andrea's your sister, right? You're the orphan she was talking about. Her twin."

"Duke, all I came for was a wedding. Andrea drugged me and made me up like her. I didn't come to until just before the ceremony. Ask Nikki, she'll tell you how I tried to get away."

Duke seemed far away. "They said she couldn't be trusted. I said she was different. I thought she loved me."

"Duke, she's going to steal your money. She knows that her name's on your accounts now. She said something about Rio. You need to put a block on your cash."

Duke shook his head. "I lied to her about that. I wasn't going to put her name on anything until after the honeymoon."

"I'm sorry, man. All I wanted to do was meet my sister. I didn't want any of this shit."

Duke sat on the other side of the bed, facing away from me, occasionally taking a drink straight from the champagne bottle.

"Everyone said Andrea was a gold digger. Everyone said she was just in this for the cash. I thought I saw something no one else did."

"It's not your fault. She fooled us both. I thought I had found a sister, instead she slips something into my drink and leaves me in her place." While I was pleased he wasn't freaked out about my gender, I wanted to get back to the issue at hand. Mainly, finding me some clothes and getting me the hell off the ship.

The man I'd just sworn to stand by, for better or for worse, was only half listening. "Yeah. Both of us--um, what's your name?"

"Andrew."

Duke's head shot up and I was horrified to see a look of unbridled fury across his handsome features. "What?" he almost screamed.

"What's your problem?" I stood up and back away.

In a heartbeat, Duke pounced at me. Grabbing the front of my dress, he yanked, tearing the expensive garment and exposing my flat chest and tiny nipples.

"You faggot! You're not Andrea's sister! You're--you're her brother!"

So that's why he'd been so calm. He knew I wasn't Andrea, but he had no idea I was a man.

"Duke, listen to me--"

Duke's hand shot up and slapped me across the face, sending me to the floor. "You sick queer! Everyone in the world saw you! Saw us!" He grabbed me by the arm and yanked me to my feet. "Do you realize what you've done?"

I tried to sputter out that I was as embarrassed as he was, probably a lot more so, but I couldn't get the words out. Only when I saw his hand go up to strike me again, I knew I had to take control of the situation.

With the experience of a dozen brawls behind me, I placed a well-directed jab right where it hurts (no, not there, on the bridge of his nose). This caused him to stagger back. As he recovered and tried to lunge again, I snatched up the champagne bottle and broke it nicely across a dresser. The jagged shard in my hand stopped his advance.

"Now listen here," I said, very calmly. "I know you're humiliated and hurt. You're betrayed. But so am I. I'm no fag, I never wanted to be your wife, and whatever embarrassment you went through today, I went through it twice."

Duke was kneeling on the floor, clutching his bloody nose. He tried to say something, but I stopped him. "I know you're a big shot. I know the world watches every time you take a shit. And I know what would happen if anyone found out what happened here tonight. But I don't want anyone to know any more than you do. So here's the plan.

"Get me some clothes. Say they're for you; they'll be a little big, but that's okay. I'll stay the night here, I'll sleep on that couch. In the morning, Nikki or someone can sneak me out. Tell the media you got an annulment. Tell them Andrea was a gold digging whore. Tell them anything. You and me, we never met."

Duke didn't say anything for a long time. Finally, he stood up. "Wait here," he said, and was gone.

As soon as he left, I ripped off the gown and kicked it into a heap on the floor. The bra, the gaff, and the fake fingernails soon followed. Poking around in a closet, I found a bathrobe with the monogram 'DG.' Perfect. Not only was I anxious to get back to looking like a man, I didn't want Duke to be reminded of me as a bride. That would be dangerous for us both.

I found the suite's bathroom and stared at my reflection. My makeup was a bit smeared, my hair was a sticky heap of hairspray, and a red welt was raising on my cheek from where Duke smacked me. I no longer looked like a bride, I looked like a drag queen who'd been in a bar fight.

I plunged my whole head into a basin of hot water and attempted to remove my makeup and straighten my hair. It helped a little, but it would really take cream, soap and a lot of shampoo, and I didn't want to be in the shower when Duke came back.

He returned all too soon, and he wasn't alone. Nikki, carrying a small sack, followed him. I was pleased to see her face was red and pained looking; she'd been crying. Good. It was her fault I was in this mess. I know she didn't know what was going on, but if she'd just listened to me when I tried to protest the wedding, we'd all be a lot happier.

Duke surveyed the shattered remains of his honeymoon: the cast-off gown, the broken glass, the shivering man-bride. I could see him tense, then settle.

"Have a seat," he gestured Nikki and I to large armchairs. "We have a lot to talk about. First of all, just who are you, and how did you end up here? No lies."

It didn't take long to explain, about the orphanage, traveling to Savannah, Andrea drugging me. It all seemed so ridiculous. As I explained, Nikki passed me the sack. Glancing inside, I found a pair of blue jeans and a man's shirt, along with shoes and underwear.

"Nikki, do you believe what this--this person is saying?" said Duke, when I was finished.

Nikki nodded, not looking at me. "He came here all excited about meeting everyone. He made a big fuss when security wouldn't let him it. He wouldn't have done that if he were planning something."

"I see." Duke got up and began pacing. "Well, thanks to my slut of an ex-fiancée, we're screwed."

"Why are we screwed?" I asked. "Just get a divorce. No one's the wiser."

He shook his head. "You don't know what it's like to be in the public eye. If I get a divorce after one day, they're going to want to know why. They'll know there's dirt to be found, and they'll find it. How'd you like what happened tonight to be all over next week's headlines?"

The thought sickened me. Just when I thought the worst was over, he throws this at me. And he was right! I saw how the media jackals go after celebs who screw up. Damn, they'd love this.

"So what do we do?"

"Andrew--" it seemed hard for him to call me by my male name. "There is an option. I don't like it, neither will you, but it's the only way."

My stomach gurgled. "What?" I whispered.

"Andrea and I were scheduled to go on a round the world honeymoon trip. We'd spend most of the time on the boat, and only go to shore occasionally."

I suddenly knew what he was about to suggest, but he got it out before I could protest. "If you were to stay on board and pose as my wife during those few trips ashore--"

"Hell no!"

"Just a few times a month. In a year, we could file for divorce..."

"No!"

"And no one will be the wiser. A year-long marriage isn't that odd, and we'll be old news by then anyway."

I jumped up. "No! That's final. Good Lord, a day as a woman was bad enough, and you want me to spend an entire year? I'm out of here." I grabbed the bag of clothes and started to leave.

"You're not going anywhere." Duke's voice was firm.

"Is that a threat?"

"That's a fact. We've already set sail. We'll reach Miami tomorrow night, until then, I want you to consider some things."

Huffily, I sat back down.

"First of all," began Duke, "if you leave in Florida, you'll be found out. They'll track you down. You think the those tabloid jerks can't find out about Andrea's brother? You'll be a drag queen all your life-- Andrew.

"Secondly, you won't have to do a lot. Just be seen with me in public. I don't care if you're cool to me, that will make our eventual divorce look more natural. Just pose for the cameras."

I rolled my eyes. Did he really think I'd even consider this?

"Thirdly," he continued, "for your services, I'm willing to pay you one million dollars."

The figure didn't register for some time. I was dimly aware of Duke asking Nikki to serve as a lookout, so the crew wouldn't know he hadn't spent the night in this cabin. By the time I looked up, I was alone.

A million dollars?

***

I awoke from a series of frantic, surreal dreams and for a few moments I didn't know where I was. It was only when I saw Nikki sitting next to my bed that I remembered.

"What do you want?" I snarled.

Nikki was looking at the floor. "I brought you some breakfast." She gestured to a small cart, where a covered dish, a carafe of orange juice, and a bowl of fruit were laid out.

Making sure I was still in my boxers, I walked over to the spread. Under the cover was a warm plate of steak and eggs. For a guy who considered a meal at Hardee's splurging, it was a bit much. There was even a fresh rose in a vase on the cart.

As I poured down a third glass of OJ, I felt Nikki's hands drape my shoulders. "This is all my fault," she said. It was a simple statement of fact.

Last night I would have yelled out her, shoved her away. Today, I sat quietly. Her smooth, painted hands felt good on my bare shoulders.

"Andrew--I'm sorry."

I turned to her. "Nikki--I guess you're not to blame. We both know the one to blame."

Nikki began to rub my shoulders. "I shouldn't have tricked you. I thought you just had cold feet."

Something about that struck me as funny and I laughed. "Don't beat yourself up."

She let go of my shoulders and fluffed out her long, blonde hair. "So, have you given any thought to Duke's proposal?"

"To act life a wife? As if!"

"Andrew," she picked up an orange wedge from my plate and nibbled it. "I know what you must think. But listen.
"You're obviously very poor. Don't you ever dream of a better life? A home of your own, a big one? Don't you have any dreams you've wanted to follow but couldn't? Don't you wish you could be someone important?"

"Like Duke's wife?"

"I don't mean like that. I mean after a year. When you become a millionaire. You haven't had an easy life, I can tell that."

She laid her hands on my cheeks. The feel of the older woman's soft palms on my cheeks brought an unwanted, though not unexpected, physical response and I pulled away.

Nikki continued. "You could buy a house. Start a business. Go back to school. Anything you wanted."

"And sacrifice a year of my life in dresses?"

"Andrew." Nikki's tired, grey eyes held mine. "Haven't you ever did anything humiliating to survive?"

"I dunno--"

"Where do you eat?"

"I can buy food. And, there's charity--"

"Have you ever eaten out of the trash?" I hung my head. Not often, but I'd had to go that route a few times.

"Where do you get your clothes? Goodwill? Do you sleep in a bed at night, or an alley?"

I began to pace. "Okay, I'm a bum! You happy? I'm a worthless, no good, stinking bum!"

Nikki followed me across the room. "That's not what I'm saying. But wouldn't you like to eat the richest, most expensive food you've ever tasted, every night for a year? Enjoy the best entertainment, the most exclusive resorts, meet famous people, basically be on a fabulous vacation for a year?"

"A vacation? Dressed like--"

"How? In the most expensive, fashionable clothes?"

"Dresses! Skirts!"

"So? Would you rather go back to your rags?"

"It's not that--"

"Then what? For the next year you'll live a life of luxury. You'll be wined and dined and see exciting places for free. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"For you maybe. You'd do great as a pretty wife. Not me."

Nikki seemed genuinely touched. "Maybe someday. But Andrew, tell me, can't you try it for a while? Duke and Andrea were supposed to go to a party in Miami. Could you give it a shot for one night?"

I wanted to say no, but I stumbled. Everything was so confusing. I needed more time to think things through.
"There's no way I could pass myself off as a woman at a party."

"You did a pretty good job at your wedding."

"That was different. I didn't have to say anything there. How can I survive talking to people?"

"I teach you everything I know about being a fancy woman. If you don't think you can do it, we'll stop."

I sat back down and picked at the eggs. "Nikki, why are you so obsessed with me doing this?"

Nikki didn't answer for a while. "I've worked for Duke a long time. He's been good to me, no not that way! Stop looking so smug. He's just really done me some good turns, got me out of some jams. I really owe him."

"You really owe me too."

Nikki touched my shoulder. "I do. If you really go through with this, I'll be by your side every second. I'll make this as painless for you as possible. In the mean time, eat up. I'll be back in an hour to help you pick out a dress."
She was out the door before I could protest.

Continued