With that, Amie’s stomach seemed to settle slightly. Maybe Zafina was right.
Or, maybe not.
***
Amie tried to overcome her misgivings about the situation, but her nerves welled up again once she entered her private car. The driver knew where to take her: the theater. That Malik sure had a sense of humor.
The outside of the theater was done up with white flowers and the marquee read Malik and Amie. At first, she had been infuriated by the fact that wedding was to take place at the theater. And yet, the more she looked around, the more she realized Malik had chosen a venue that truly meant something to them. Not only had she been in love with the theater since she was a little girl, it had been the first place they ever set eyes on each other. Not only that, she had also fallen in love with Malik the night they saw their first play together.
Shock overcame her when she saw the red carpet outside and the crowd of friends, family, and media assembled there. She grinned as she glimpsed Azim and Galina—as immaculately turned out as ever—waving at her as the limo pulled up outside.
Reporters swirled around the building, snapping photos to commemorate the marriage of Sheikh Mahumet’s son. She had known, since Malik was the ruler’s son, that the wedding would be a bit of a big deal, but not this.
Seeing the sheer amount of friends and well-wishers, Amie realized she deeply missed her own family. She wished they were here, even if it wasn’t a real wedding.
Suddenly she began to worry that her name would be dragged into online reports about the wedding. What if her mother saw? She had no idea how her mother would come across an Arabic news story, but stranger things had happened.
She watched as the hundreds of guests piled into the theater until only she and the news media were left outside. She took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, walking down the red carpet, being bombarded by questions from eager reporters. She gulped; maybe her instincts were right, maybe she’d finally bitten off more than she could chew.
“Miss Shaw! Miss Shaw!” a reporter yelled, gesturing for her to turn toward him.
She did so and gave him her best Hollywood smile; doing her best to show off her dress and to come off charming yet respectful. Her heart beat out of her chest as she entered the building, finally escaping the paparazzi.
As the music started up, an usher signaled to Amie that it was time to make her way down the aisle. The aisle was actually the theater aisle, where she was to make her way onto the main stage. How fitting, she thought darkly, that their fake wedding was going to consist of her humiliating herself on stage.
The music was traditional, with a Middle-Eastern spin, and Amie couldn’t help but feel giddy as she began to walk down the aisle. The photographers’ flashbulbs popped, making her feel even more glamorous as she made her way to the stage.
Amie’s heart all but leaped out of her chest as she approached Malik. For six weeks straight, she’d spent basically all day, every day, by his side. But now, on her faux wedding day, she hadn’t heard a peep from him, and the sight of him filled her with glee.
Malik wore a sharp beige suit and looked every inch the confident, handsome sheikh and future ruler of a nation.
As Amie approached, however, a nervous anxiety seemed to cloud his expression. He looked at her in shock, his eyes filling with affection and awe as he eyed her up and down in her dress.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered, nearly stumbling over his words.
Amie blushed and looked down bashfully as another usher hooked both of them up to microphones, so the audience could better hear them giving their vows.
The officiant made his way to the stage; he was an older man, dressed in traditional Middle-Eastern attire and also hooked up to a microphone. Malik had assured Amie over and over again that the man was a hired actor, so she wasn’t too concerned about the legal consequences. No, at this very moment, she was more concerned about getting sick all over the stage.
She grinned nervously at Malik as they were instructed to hold hands before the audience. She stared at the man in front of her as the minister began to speak, listing off reasons why this couple was going to be ever-so-happy together, painting a fairytale image of their future lives together. Laying it on a little thick there, buddy, Amie thought.