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He then leaves, having dropped this bomb on me, but he takes the smoothie with him. I find I’m unable to be as irritated as I’d like.
* * *
The next few days seem to occur at warp speed. I allocate most of the planning to an event company, but answering questions about trivial crap still eats up every free second—Chilean sea bass (endangered but tasty) or tilapia? Ecru linens or taupe? Curved spindles on the chairs or straight?
I find myself texting Hayes often, and though he tells me I’m a nuisance and frequently threatens to fire me for asking too many questions, he’s the one who sneaks in irrelevant texts. Asking questions about my book, wanting to know more about Julian, suggesting various sexual positions Aisling might enjoy. I reply with links to websites about sexual harassment in the workplace, but the truth is those texts are the best part of my day.
By night, I’m still working on adding Julian to the book. I think I’ve almost got it when Sam calls with a new suggestion.
“You know,” he says. “I don’t love Naida.”
Naida—the woodland nymph who teaches Aisling to wield magic—is vital to the plot. It’s not as if Aisling can storm a castle full of dark magic without a weapon of her own.
“It would be a lot more interesting,” he says, “if she had an evil motive or wanted something in return, something complicated.”
“You want me to make sweet little Naida—who wants nothing more than to own her bakery outright and earn the love of a water nymph—evil?”
“Sure. Like maybe she’s trying to lead a zombie uprising and needs Aisling to lower the wards on the castle so she can attack.”
Sam always did want to add zombies to everything. I’d forgotten that about him.
Yet he’s not wrong. Those scenes with Naida bore me too. And it might be fun if Aisling had to work with someone bad in order to get what she wanted.
I think of Hayes’s latest suggestion: that Aisling could sleep with Julian to get information about the queen. He really doesn’t seem to grasp the concept of a young adult novel. (“I’m not suggesting you describe a graphic bondage scene,” Hayes argued. “Just, you know, allude to one.”) While I don’t intend to have my teenage heroine take up prostitution to save her boyfriend, I can admit he may be on to something. Working with Julian is like making a deal with the devil. In order to get what she needs, she’ll have to risk everything.
Me: You win. Julian is going to help Aisling break into the castle.
Hayes: Which she’ll pay for ON HER BACK. Don’t argue, just go with it.
Hayes: BTW, that would be a good line for Julian to use on Aisling in bed.
* * *
I arrive on Friday morning clad in shorts and running shoes, ready for the long hours ahead. The work trucks pull up to the house right behind me, and the next twenty minutes are a flurry of directions and unlocking doors and answering placement questions. When I finally get back inside, Hayes is sitting at the counter.
His eyes run over me, head to toe and back to my legs. His slow perusal makes me shiver, in a good way. “Have we changed the dress code, then?” he asks, his voice lower than normal.
“I’m not running around here in heels all day. I have my dress for tonight in the car.”
“I’m sure the workmen are enjoying this look.” His mouth flattens. “I’ll barely need to tip when they’re done.”
I roll my eyes and slide him his schedule while I look over my own. For once, I think I’m the busier of the two of us.
“So,” he says, “I guess there’s no smoothie today?”
I glance up. “Do you want one?” I feel like a Disney heroine who’s just discovered she’s got a secret power.
He runs a hand through his hair, which is what Hayes does when he feels even the tiniest pinch of vulnerability. “Only if you have time.”
I don’t. But it’s an admission, even if he doesn’t realize it: He likes to feel cared for. He likes that someone in his life wants things for him aside from what he does for them in return.
“Of course,” I say, placing his vitamin D next to his coffee with an additional supplement. “But only if you take your vitamins like a good boy. And I’m not trying to poison you. The new one is zinc. It’s good for the immune system.”
He pops it into his mouth. “And sperm production,” he adds.
* * *
The day passes in a haze of decisions and dilemmas and petty squabbles between vendors. I’m just praying it’s not a complete disaster. The biggest party I’ve ever thrown until now involved pizza for twenty, and even that didn’t go so well.
