Page 13

Story: Taste the Love

Sullivan couldn’t believe she was getting married.

A huge abstract of swirling oranges and blues graced the expansive lobby of the Multnomah County Courthouse.

Men in suits and women in power sweater sets hurried across the marble floor.

Beside her, Opal stood in an ironed rugby jersey and Nina in a red suit that said, I’m going to annihilate you in court before mimosa brunch at the Ritz .

Sullivan had always wanted to get married.

For a while, she’d thought she would marry Aubrey.

To have someone who loved you forever. Loved your foibles.

Adored the eccentric habits you hid on the first date.

And of course, every marriage saw difficult times, but love made those hardships sacred.

This was not that marriage. And, logically, she knew her arrangement with Kia had nothing to do with whether or not another person would love her.

But somehow being married for money made her feel like no one would ever want her.

She stuffed the feeling deep in her pocket and tried to forget it.

She had a enough reason to feel sorry for herself without inventing things.

Sullivan spotted Kia as soon as she entered the huge, open space. The girl who’d helped serve crepes bounded beside Kia.

“I can’t believe I’m going to witness Kia Gourmazing’s marriage,” the girl said by way of greeting.

Her eyes got wide like an anime character looking at a cake.

“I know you’ve been in love this whole time.

You have total chemistry. Are you eloping?

” She expounded on how signing their wedding license was almost as amazing as having Jesus as a houseguest. “I mean, I’ve never had Jesus as a houseguest. Like, spiritually, I have. But not, like, IRL.”

“I’m Nina,” Nina cut in. She extended her hand to Kia. “We talked on the phone. This is Opal. She’ll witness too.”

Kia shook Opal’s hand, then introduced the girl.

“This is my assistant, Deja.”

“I am in love with your love story. You two.” She made her hands into a heart and held it over her chest. “Hashtag ‘relationship goals.’”

Please don’t let this marriage be anyone’s #RelationshipGoals.

“Hi,” Kia said to Sullivan, fidgeting with her phone, which she clasped in one hand. “Thanks for this.”

Kia wore a formfitting dress. Bands of fuchsia crisscrossed her body.

A stripe of pink held the weight of her breasts.

The dress stretched over her hips. Dark orange glitter sparkled in her hair.

She wore white boots that could have stepped off a runway or out of a military operation in the snow.

She also looked tough, a little terrified, and…

pretty . How had Sullivan been so immersed in the competition for flavor and technique, in the intensity of the rivalry, that she failed to see Kia fully?

If someone had asked, Sullivan would have said, Yeah, sure, of course she’s pretty .

But she’d never felt Kia’s beauty, not the way she felt it now.

Kia’s beauty was classic like an African queen.

Kia’s golden-brown eyes danced. Her lips looked soft and sumptuous.

The sweep of her curves was so tempting…

“Hey,” Nina prompted.

Shit. Had she been staring at Kia in a way that suggested…

the kind of interest a person should have (and Sullivan absolutely should not have) in their future wife?

A hint of gotcha pulled at Kia’s lips, just like when she bested Sullivan at lyophilization, managing to freeze-dry quail eggs and broccolini into a stunning and delectable dish.

“Let’s get this over with then,” Sullivan said, gesturing toward a wide flight of stairs.

Kia fell in step beside Sullivan as they mounted immaculately polished stairs to the second floor.

“You look nice,” Kia said.

Sullivan had worn a suit.

“You also”—Sullivan looked as far away from Kia as she could without turning her head around like an owl—“look like you dressed for the occasion.”

“I thought I could make it a little special at least.” Kia dipped her chin and blinked a few times, as if Sullivan was so wonderful she couldn’t believe her eyes. Her fake charm was not working.

“I already said I’d marry you.”

“My marketing manager said I should take some pics of the wedding in case we want to put it on the channel,” Kia said with less charm.

“Maybe. When we get divorced that’ll be off-brand, but we might just cut you out slowly and hope people forget about you.

Like when Bowling Ball the bulldog died.

They didn’t do a big death announcement, just got a new puppy and let it ride. You knew Bowling Ball, right?”

Sullivan stopped midway up the marble stairs.

“No.”

“He was almost as popular as Noodle the pug.”

Sullivan grabbed the railing like she might fall.

“I don’t mean cut you out as a person,” Kia added quickly. “Just on the channel. I mean, if you wanted, we could pretend to be married forever. You’d look great on my U-Spin account.”

Opal, Nina, and Deja had stopped at the top of the stairs and were watching them.

“Do not put me on your socials,” Sullivan spat.

“Is being seen with me that bad?” Kia’s face radiated hurt.

“I don’t want to be seen online. Period. You’re infinitely better than an off-ramp. But this”—Sullivan’s gesture took in the courthouse and everything else that was wrong with her life right now—“is too much. And being splashed all over social media… that’d be the last straw.”

“Everyone splashes everything all over social media.”

“Just, please, Kia, don’t put me out there like that.”

“Okay. I won’t. I promise.”

To Sullivan’s surprise, Kia sounded absolutely sincere, like she took the request as seriously as Sullivan did because she could tell it mattered to Sullivan.

Nina was waiting for them at the top of the stairs. She fixed Sullivan with a look, the same look she’d given Sullivan when they were kids and Sullivan had broken some rule of play or as teenagers when Sullivan crushed on an obnoxious boy.

“Are you two fighting?” Nina took Sullivan’s arm while glaring at Kia.

“I like to see a marriage dissolve as much as the next divorce attorney.” She flicked her other wrist, exhibiting a bracelet full of diamonds.

“Make it rain. But I asked Judge Lavigne to waive the three-day waiting period. Marriages are the only fun part of her job. Act like you love Kia so much you cry when she smiles at you.”

“We’re not fighting,” Kia said.

“Sullivan.” Nina drew out her name. “Kia is a strong Black businesswoman breaking into a male-dominated field. If she wasn’t buying the Bois, you’d love her. Play nice.”

“We’re not fighting,” Sullivan repeated.

“Fine, let’s go,” Nina said, in the same tone mothers used with children in grocery stores at five o’clock.

The group followed Nina down the hall. Nina sat them on a bench while she went for paperwork.

In front of them, a young Latine couple adjusted each other’s corsages.

One person wore a jewel-blue suit and the other person wore a simple yellow dress.

An entourage of friends and grandmas and little children surrounded them.

The person in the dress put their arms around the person in the suit and kissed them on the cheek.

Blue Suit lifted Yellow Dress an inch off the ground and spun them around.

Kia jumped up. “Y’all are too cute!”

The couple beamed.

“Could I take your pictures? I run a little social media thing. Kia Gourmazing. I just love to meet new people.”

Kia held out her phone, presumably showcasing the fabulous new people she’d already immortalized on her feed.

“I know Kia Gourmazing!” Yellow Dress exclaimed. “My uncle runs a food truck.”

“Great! I’ll tag your uncle’s truck.”

The couple was already posing for Kia’s camera. Kia beamed, took some pictures, typed a caption at light speed, and sat back down.

“Don’t worry,” Kia said to Sullivan. “I won’t put you on my channel.”

“Do you do that constantly?” Sullivan should leave it alone, get married, walk away. But Aubrey’s photo shoots had interrupted every date Sullivan had planned. She should at least get through this miserable experience without watching people cheesing for Kia’s camera.

“It’s my job,” Kia said. “If I lose followers, I lose money.”

“Real money?”

“About three hundred.” Kia started typing again.

“A month?”

“Ha. I’m not that big. A year.” Kia didn’t look up. “How do you think I’m buying your ancestral forest? I’ve got investors putting up the down payment. I’m financing everything else. I can’t do that selling hot dogs.”

Three hundred a year. Did Kia mean…

“Three hundred thousand?”

Over a quarter of a million for posting hot dogs?

Kia flipped her phone over on her knee and looked up.

“Yeah.”

Nina always said men married for money or looks. Women married for money, but they were attracted to power. Money represents power. That’s the real draw. Sullivan hadn’t gotten it. Until now. The casual way Kia dropped the sum… was impressive.

It was hot.

Objectively.

Not to Sullivan personally.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said your ancestral forest ,” Kia said. “I didn’t mean to make fun of it.”

Sullivan didn’t say anything. Kia had been a worthy rival in the kitchen. She was apparently a worthy rival in life too.

Kia looked at the young couple. “They’re going snorkeling in Hawaii for their honeymoon.”

“Think they’ll make it?”

“Snorkeling?”

“Marriage.”

“I hope so.” Kia rested her elbows on her knees, chin on her steepled fingertips.

“They look happy.” She turned toward Sullivan without lifting her chin, her eyes wistful.

“I’d love to be them. To find someone to love forever.

” She exhaled a soft snort. “That’s not in the cards, is it? Have you been married?”

That’s how little they knew about each other.

“No. You?”

“I’ll have time for that when I’m dead.” A faraway look clouded Kia’s eyes. “But when I do… if I do… I want it to be someone I have fun with, someone who’s always got my back. Shotgun rider.”

“Someone who loves me exactly the way I am.” Sullivan heard Aubrey complaining. Pull your shoulders back. You look like a cat in the rain.

“How could they not?” Kia covered her lips with her fingertips. “Sorry.” She shrugged. “You’re kind of a snack.”

Sullivan gazed past Kia’s shoulders. “I always thought I’d get married just once. I guess I’m old-fashioned. I don’t think people should stay in bad marriages, but I thought I’d choose someone who’d want to be with me forever.”

“The one thing in your life you wouldn’t have to question,” Kia added.

“Yeah.” Sullivan gave a rueful shrug.

“That’s what I wanted too. I don’t know how I thought I’d find her living in a different city every week though. I think my dad never married because he’s always moved around too much to find true love, and he wouldn’t settle for less.”

“And look at us now.”

For a second, Kia looked like she’d stepped off a bus at an empty station only to find the person she’d expected wasn’t waiting for her return.

A woman in a floral jumper stepped out of the courtroom.

“Sullivan? Jackson? Judge Lavigne is ready for you.”

“They’ll use vow seven point five in the contemporary vow set,” Nina said when Sullivan, Kia, Opal, and Deja were standing in front of the judge’s dais. Deja vibrated with enthusiasm.

The ceremony took about five minutes.