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I marry Juliet, or I get deported.
Chapter Four
Juliet
“You’re going to be great. You’ve prepared and your presentation looks incredible,” Shawnie says.
I wish she were here in person, but we have a large fiftieth wedding anniversary party that requires one of us to be there to ensure everything goes perfectly for our clients.
I’m lucky that Shawnie is so amazing and can handle all the hoops I throw at her. Someday I hope to make her partner. She’s certainly earned it since she started with me four years ago.
“I hope you're right. This means so much to me, and I need to impress them with my presentation," I say, pressing the elevator button to ascend to the corporate offices, following the instructions in their email.
Being back at the Stadium the day after Ryker's offer to secure this contract in exchange for marrying him, has my nerves on edge.
He asked me if I had plans for Valentine's Day and then invited me to the game to hear my answer. My stomach has been in jumbled knots all day wondering if I just agreed to a date with Ryker and whether or not I would run into him this morning at the stadium.
Do I want to see him? Or don’t I?
I can’t make up my mind but since I don’t have an answer for him, it’s probably better I don’t see him.
I went to visit Jerrin this morning on my way to the Hawkeyes stadium at the center he has an apartment at, and told him about my trip to the hockey game. He didn't say much, but his eyes lighting up told me everything I needed to know.
I don't like labeling my brother's autism, but his specialists say his ASD level ranges between a one and two. He's very capable of doing most things on his own, which is why he can live in an assisted facility, and in an apartment he shares with another resident, but his desire to communicate verbally is minimal. I believe that's a product of the trauma from our father leaving him at such a young age. However, he and I communicate just fine, whether he chooses to use words or not. Maybe it’s that brother/sister bond or the fact that he knows I’ll do anything for him.
His favorite nurse called me right after I stopped at the cafe for my coffee on my way to the Hawkeyes stadium to tell me that Jerrin is wearing the Hawkeyes jacket that I brought him. And asked her to find him old replays of Hawkeyes games.
In an hour, he already has a favorite player: center forward Ryker Haynes, captain of the team, and Hawkeyes number nineteen.
I suppose I brought that upon myself.
Riding up to the third floor, I fidget with the strap of my laptop bag and stare back at the reflection of myself on the metallic surface.
I look the part in a designer pant suit with cropped blazers and heels. My raven hair slicked back into a low bun at the base of my skull.
I’m wearing my signature red lipstick, meant to signify power, but right now, it isn't giving me the confidence boost it usually does.
Impostor syndrome sets in, and I take a deep breath to calm my nerves.
The thing is, I know I can do this.
I might not have as many years as some of the other planning companies coming in today, but I know I’m the best. I know I can do this job. I just need a chance to prove it.
But what if they can’t see past the small boutique wedding planner who’s never held a contract this size before? What are they aren’t willing to take the chance on me?
“Everyone has to start somewhere,” my mother always reminds me, and she’s right. I guess that’s why growing pains are just that—painful.
“I can almost hear your panicked thoughts from here,” Shawnie says, her voice clear through the receiver.
I’m surprised to still have such good reception in the elevator.
“I’m not panicking.”
“Yes, you are. Take a deep inhale because you’re about to ace this thing.”
Before I can say anything back, the elevator doors ding on level three and the doors start to open.
The third floor opens into a modern space with tall ceilings, dark espresso wood-stained floors, and grey and turquoise painted walls.
