‘Why do they call you Big Rig?’ Lady Chassis, stunning young heiress to the Chassis family fortune, asked her driver en route to her arranged marriage. Rig Transit sighed rustically, revealing the slow, wide load of misery on his mind.
‘As a baby I was abandoned on a church doorstep before being given to a kindly trucking family, the Transits, whose young heir you will marry today at noon. The Transits gave me their name and raised me as the son they never had—until they had a son—at which point they still raised me as a son—just not an only son; the bigger son—Big Rig.’
‘I see,’ said Chassis, and she did. That would explain why Rig was the driver of the B-double at the head of this literal convoy of love—the ceremonial road train that would unite the Chassis and Transit trucking transport dynasties. ‘Shall we commence our journey?’
‘Journey,’ Rig laughed rustically. ‘That’s a funny word.’
‘Is it?’ Lady Chassis inquired with a curious face.
‘Not to me. To me it evokes feelings. Feelings of irony.’
Lady Chassis’ face became even more curious.
‘It’s ironic that I’m driving you into the arms of another man.’
‘But, Rig …’
‘I love you. I loved you the moment you slipped into my ergonomic seat.’
‘I’m to be married!’
‘Not for an hour. Buckle up.’
Rig swept Chassis into an engine-revving, airbag-deploying embrace. Chassis’ response was automatic; she clutched at him, fingers racing exhaustively across his body, getting his motor running, driving him on and on. ‘Strange,’ she murmured, as they idled a moment to catch their breath, ‘you don’t seem like a commoner—and yet you are!’
Rig smiled rustically. ‘I’ve got you to elevate me.’ He veered into her lane with a kiss; Chassis’ desire roared back into life, overheating her senses, overclocking her emotional odometer, and sending her desire into overdrive. Rig had the key to her ignition, and his body had given hers a movement order. They were on the highway of love and he needed no directions to find her route. Chassis ached for his gear stick, longed for a honking … but she had travelled too far, accelerated way off track. She was lost in Transit. Her conscience jackknifed as she applied the emergency break to her heart. ‘Rig! We mustn’t!’
Chassis shook her beautiful head. Someone of Rig’s unfortunate background couldn’t be expected to understand her family responsibilities. ‘I took a wrong turn, Rig. But now you must give way. The wheel turns. I’m back on the right path now. And it must be a one-way street.’
Rig laughed with rustic bitterness. He was handsome but angry. ‘Looks like I’ve been taken for a ride.’ He looked tired. Like he’d been tread on. But he semi-understood the mechanics of the elite and knew that higher social responsibilities were motorvating her.
Chassis felt as though her heart had been in a terrible crash. She’d been true to her family’s business interests but her love was in a traffic jam—Rig was the only man for her.
The convoy of recently acquired pain reached the wedding venue. Chassis was parked before her pleasant but unheroic husband-to-be, the Honourable Mack Transit, and the ceremony commenced. When the marriage celebrant asked if there were any objections to the union, Chassis’ eyes steered towards Rig, but his expression was in neutral.
‘I have an objection!’ came the matriarchal voice of Baroness Transit. ‘Mack must not marry Lady Chassis, for he is not the most immediate heir to our family fortune. Big Rig is!’
The high-society wedding crowd gasped, and Chassis looked really beautiful as Baroness Transit continued her tale. ‘For important transport reasons we couldn’t allow our business competitors to know we’d started a family back when we had Rig. We abandoned him then offered to raise him as our son—which he is. And as our eldest, it falls to him to secure our business interests through marriage to the Lady Chassis.’
The newly Honourable Rig Transit broke into a rustic but socially powerful grin as the sun travelled into Chassis’ heart. She knew she’d sensed good bloodlines in that kiss! Mack reversed appropriately away from Chassis as Rig manoeuvred into his rightful place by her side.
‘My family taught me to drive,’ he told the adoring crowd, ‘but Chassis has given me direction. As I change gear into this new, even more privileged life, I promise to give our joint family business interests, and my beloved Chassis, a very smooth ride.’
The crowd was transported. As they trafficked around industry’s newest it-couple to convey congratulations, the marriage celebrant expressed the words Chassis and Rig had been longing since that morning to hear: ‘I now pronounce you man and wife. Keep on trucking!’
About the Author
A highly intelligent, natural born leader, Valkyrie Cul-de-sac is the Convenor, Grand-Vice-Executive-Chancellor, and Supreme Foundational Member of the FFA. She is aware of many awards.
Among Valkyrie’s myriad gifts is a preternatural bespoke-artisanal-boutique-couture writing talent that is the envy of other people’s eyes; but she does not let their jealousy affect her generosity. Valkyrie formed and commands the FFA as part of a commendable philanthropic desire to ‘give something back’.