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“Good idea.” I manage to pull my head out of the gutter before the waiter returns.
“So this could actually work in our favor. If no one ever really met him, it’ll be easier for me to take his place.”
“How long would you stay? Or just do things remotely?”
“Oh, I’m very hands-on.” I don’t miss the way his voice drops an octave. “I think it’s important for me to be there as much as my schedule allows the next four weeks. I’ll come to Magnolia Grove and go to the appointments with you. I’ll work on the article; you do what you do best. It’ll be the photojournalistic approach; follow you around and get shots of what you are planning and then detail. Which, judging by your overstuffed notebook there, I’m guessing you have all mapped out.” He nods to where my trusty notebook lies on the table.
“Yeah, so I have a thing for making lists. It’s a combo of my attempt at control and also…” I can’t believe I’m actually going to admit this to him. “My mind tends to be a little chaotic sometimes, so if I write it down, I can release it from my brain.”
“Seems logical enough, but you know they do make these handy things called iPads.”
“You know, now that you mention it…” I tease. “But have you ever been at a wedding or any event and your phone dies? No charger, no outlet. What are you going to do?”
“Good point.”
“But to answer your question, I did have several ideas mapped out.”
“Don’t most little girls dream about their weddings and plan them like them when they’re like ten?”
“I was an early bloomer. I planned my first wedding out behind my grandparents’ farmhouse at six, maybe seven, mostly using my cousins, toys, and pets as my test subject. But yeah, I spent a lot of time planning and playing wedding. How about you?”
“I can’t say that I ever played wedding.”
“No,” I laugh. “Did you always want to be a writer or editor-in-chief for that matter?”
“Actually, yeah, as long as I can remember. Ever since my mom gave me my first journal. But when I got my first laptop, it was love at first sight.” He looks away as if remembering.
Love at first sight.
If we had met under different circumstances, could what I felt last night be something more?
If I wasn’t fresh out of a broken engagement.
If we didn’t have an article to pull off.
If we didn’t have a lie to sell.
We’ve drifted off topic. But it’s so easy to talk to him
“Well, my first love was Mr. Teddy. A trusty brown bear that I slept with every night until… well, that number isn’t important.” Because I was still hugging my emotional support stuffed animal well into junior high, especially after my first heartbreak.
“Lucky bear,” he mumbles under his breath. But I heard the implication loud and clear.
The waiter returns with our pastries. “Thank you.” I smile up at him.
“So dream wedding is in the notebook and up here?” He taps his temple with two fingers.
“More like right here.” I place my hand over my heart. “But that’s not the wedding I’m planning for the magazine.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Well, for starters, what I want is more eclectic, a whimsical vintage aesthetic. It didn’t line up with Henry’s tastes.”
“Fuck Henry.”
“And it’s not trendy. It’s not like flea markets are buying ad space. I don’t know,” I sigh, finding it difficult to find the words to better describe my vision. “It’s hard to explain. Sharing that with the world feels too intimate. For me, it’s less about the things and more about the location and the people. It’s building a bridge between my past and my future and crossing that bridge with my future husband’s.”
I look up to see him watching me with an emotion I can’t paste flickering over his face.
