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Charlize
Poppy: I respectfully must turn down your request for me to attend your yoga class tonight.
Charlize: You are the worst cousin of life.
Poppy: Charles, you have to be a good gala girl tomorrow. I’m unsure why you’re even going to yoga tonight. Don’t you have last minute jobs before the gala?
Charlize: It’s a good thing I have a boyfriend who is willing to take one for the team and come to yoga.
Poppy: Take that back!
Poppy: Also, do you realize you just called him your boyfriend? Does this mean you’ve FINALLY turned that job in California down?
Charlize: There is such a thing as a long-distance relationship, you know.
Poppy: Pfft. No one wants one of those. And don’t think I haven’t noticed your avoidance of two things: the fact you’re now referring to Owen as your boyfriend, and your refusal to turn that job down. Surely they won’t wait much longer for your answer.
Charlize: Ugh, they convinced the girl currently doing the job to stay on for a bit longer. I have to tell them by the end of this weekend.
Poppy: Have you told Owen?
Charlize: No.
Poppy: Good. That tells me you don’t plan on taking it, which makes me very happy. As you were.
“Charlize,” my mother says, drawing my attention from Poppy. “I’d like us to go over the program for tomorrow night one more time. I’d especially like to discuss how we will allocate the volunteers.”
Mom and I are with the committee at the venue where the gala will be held. We’re going over every little detail for tomorrow one last time. The fascinating thing for me is just how much my mother is seeking my input on everything.
“Absolutely,” I agree.
We’re ten minutes into this when one of the committee members interrupts and says, “Jack Kingsley is here.” She points at the doorway where I see a dark-haired man standing with a shorter dark-haired woman. “Can you break for a minute to talk with him about tomorrow night?”
“You go,” Mom says. “I’ll keep working on this. We’ve got a lot of volunteers to sort through.”
I smile. “Okay. I won’t be too long.”
I make my way to Jack who is deep in conversation with the woman.
“Hi,” I say when I reach them. “I’m Charlize.”
Jack shakes my hand, his mouth spreading out into a smile I bet millions of women around the world would die to see up close. “Charlize. It’s great to meet you. I’m Jack and”—he looks down at the dark-haired woman—“this is Jessica, my wife.”
Jessica smiles at me. “Hi Charlize. You’re in luck today.” Their Australian accents are giving me life.
“Okay?” I have no idea what she means.
“I kept him alive just for you today.” She gives Jack the kind of look a wife gives her husband when she’s exasperated with him. “I even abstained from bringing my fishing spear with me. You’re welcome.”
I laugh and glance between them. Jessica still has that same look on her face while Jack is grinning down at her with the kind of adoration every woman wants a man to look at her with.
He meets my gaze. “In my defense, I was not aware that when a woman opens multiple tabs on a computer, she might still want them a week later.”
My eyes widen while I fake gasp, “Youdidn’t?”
Jessica’s eyes widen back at me. “Hedid.”
“I’d just like to point out those tabs had been open for one week,” Jack says. “Not one hour, not one day, but a wholeweek.”
