Read Online Disastrously Fabulous: A Novel of Loves, Betrayals and New Beginnings by D.A. Prince - Free Book Online
Authors: D.A. Prince
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falling in love with someone and falling in love with someone and getting married. Usually, after you get married, you fall in love with the person even more.”
~ Dave Grohl ~
After a wild night out I proposed marriage. Max couldn't have been happier. Soon after that the date was set, and we were engaged to be married.
Our initial wedding plans fell through—Max was going through something heavy work and was partying a lot. Alcohol was flowing like an endless river, the best and most expensive of course.
We got back on course and made new plans. The night before the wedding Max surprised me with a trip to Atlantic City for the pre-party. With tickets to see Whitney Houston perform, a long-time favorite of mine. A big group of us dressed in our furs and finery, in a limo to Atlantic City.
The ride alone was a massive party, once we arrived there—it was a one stop candy shop of lavish experiences. I met up with an old model friend of mine who was one of Whitney’s dancers, and we all partied together into the morning of my wedding.
It was an extravagant wedding I pitched up an hour late to the church ceremony in Brooklyn, still trying to shake off the revelry of the night before. Max always did that far better than I did.
After an exquisite reception with more than 150 guests in a Manhattan club, we continued partying in a nightclub.
Our groomsmen partied even harder than the previous night, drinking everything in sight—the more expensive, the better. Max and I were so drunk we nearly forgot to cut the cake The amazing band, a DJ and a wedding singer - rocked the place. Boy, did we enjoy ourselves!
Max was in such high spirits that he leaped onto the table to dance, but the table leg broke and collapsed. Smoothly and effortlessly, he landed neatly on the floor beside the ruined table—nothing could bring him down from his revelry.
I was blessed with five beautiful bridesmaids, and my mom the matron of honor. Makeup extraordinaire Chanel did my face and Al Allure my hair, costing a grip, but the time for scrimping was past. My colors were white and green, fresh and bright. Everything was wonderful.
But drama was brewing. Around the time of my wedding to Max, I discovered spite and envy in the people closest to me. False friends simmered with resentment that I had made such a good catch. They wanted a shot at my husband and lifestyle.
I chose to be positive about my marriage to Max, but I needed to be on guard all the time, and it was ridiculous.
When I was younger, I had dreamed of getting into broadcasting or different career in fashion. But those ideas fell aside when I got married and became a willing slave to my husband’s every whim.
Soon after we were married, a trip was booked on the Concord for the first time. The infamous Concord Airline to Paris, France from JFK to be exact. It crunched a standard eight-hour flight into a four-hour luxury party cruise on a private airline.
With no idea what to expect as we boarded, I was confronted with opulence and airline luxury that I never experienced before. At $10,000 a ticket, this high-end flight was so top notch you cannot even go on them anymore.
A bottle of champagne was an awaiting accommodation on our flight. It came from some rare vineyard somewhere in France, where we were heading. The cutlery was made of solid silver—even the seats in the plane were made from the softest, best leather.
Restaurant quality food, expensive alcohol, and an extravagant place to nap if you felt like it… was all part of the experience. We were waited on hand and foot by the staff on board. I felt like a queen, and Max was my king. Husband and wife—together forever.
Max was a man on a mission. Wherever we went, whoever we were with—these were the elite of the world. I met celebrities and influential people, shock hands with Michelle and Barack Obama, hobnobbed with the best in the finance, music and business industries. No one was out of reach.
I clung to the
~ Dave Grohl ~
After a wild night out I proposed marriage. Max couldn't have been happier. Soon after that the date was set, and we were engaged to be married.
Our initial wedding plans fell through—Max was going through something heavy work and was partying a lot. Alcohol was flowing like an endless river, the best and most expensive of course.
We got back on course and made new plans. The night before the wedding Max surprised me with a trip to Atlantic City for the pre-party. With tickets to see Whitney Houston perform, a long-time favorite of mine. A big group of us dressed in our furs and finery, in a limo to Atlantic City.
The ride alone was a massive party, once we arrived there—it was a one stop candy shop of lavish experiences. I met up with an old model friend of mine who was one of Whitney’s dancers, and we all partied together into the morning of my wedding.
It was an extravagant wedding I pitched up an hour late to the church ceremony in Brooklyn, still trying to shake off the revelry of the night before. Max always did that far better than I did.
After an exquisite reception with more than 150 guests in a Manhattan club, we continued partying in a nightclub.
Our groomsmen partied even harder than the previous night, drinking everything in sight—the more expensive, the better. Max and I were so drunk we nearly forgot to cut the cake The amazing band, a DJ and a wedding singer - rocked the place. Boy, did we enjoy ourselves!
Max was in such high spirits that he leaped onto the table to dance, but the table leg broke and collapsed. Smoothly and effortlessly, he landed neatly on the floor beside the ruined table—nothing could bring him down from his revelry.
I was blessed with five beautiful bridesmaids, and my mom the matron of honor. Makeup extraordinaire Chanel did my face and Al Allure my hair, costing a grip, but the time for scrimping was past. My colors were white and green, fresh and bright. Everything was wonderful.
But drama was brewing. Around the time of my wedding to Max, I discovered spite and envy in the people closest to me. False friends simmered with resentment that I had made such a good catch. They wanted a shot at my husband and lifestyle.
I chose to be positive about my marriage to Max, but I needed to be on guard all the time, and it was ridiculous.
When I was younger, I had dreamed of getting into broadcasting or different career in fashion. But those ideas fell aside when I got married and became a willing slave to my husband’s every whim.
Soon after we were married, a trip was booked on the Concord for the first time. The infamous Concord Airline to Paris, France from JFK to be exact. It crunched a standard eight-hour flight into a four-hour luxury party cruise on a private airline.
With no idea what to expect as we boarded, I was confronted with opulence and airline luxury that I never experienced before. At $10,000 a ticket, this high-end flight was so top notch you cannot even go on them anymore.
A bottle of champagne was an awaiting accommodation on our flight. It came from some rare vineyard somewhere in France, where we were heading. The cutlery was made of solid silver—even the seats in the plane were made from the softest, best leather.
Restaurant quality food, expensive alcohol, and an extravagant place to nap if you felt like it… was all part of the experience. We were waited on hand and foot by the staff on board. I felt like a queen, and Max was my king. Husband and wife—together forever.
Max was a man on a mission. Wherever we went, whoever we were with—these were the elite of the world. I met celebrities and influential people, shock hands with Michelle and Barack Obama, hobnobbed with the best in the finance, music and business industries. No one was out of reach.
I clung to the
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