She is not someone I’d gush to about my private life. It’s not private now, though. It’s public. On purpose.The purpose being one point three million dollars! Girl, smile harder!
“Sodreamy, right? He, we, we’ve known each other for years. We, um, were sort of dancing around it all that time and then in Vegas together everything just uh…jellied.”Shit,I meant gelled. She squeals, though, mercifully picking up the lies I’m putting down, so I go on, “We wanted something that was just us, just ours, so we did the eloping. I think we’ll do a big, uh, shindig, at some point.”
“Uh huh, and the proposal?”
Ahhhhh!
Ben and I really should have discussed this but, true to his word, he shooed the photographers away, stuffed me with the best steak I’ve ever tasted, and tucked me into my room at 8:59. He actually noted the time, trying to be cute. And, okay, succeeding a little bit.
But then he was gone, on a jet to some appointment across the country, promising to touch base sometime today. Today’s technically been today for thirteen hours and twenty three minutes so far. Not that I expected a morning text but a game plan after my early flight this morning andbeforeI walked into work would have been smart.
“It was, uh, less of a proposal and more of a we should get married and then baddabingbaddaboom we were in a jewelry store.”Baddabingbaddaboom? What’s happening to me?!
“Oh my gosh, just likeSweet Home Alabama!”
“Kind of, yeah.”
“So, you’re really just going to keep working here?”
I nod, “That’s the plan. Until I’ve fulfilled my contract.”
“Huh. You do you, I guess,” she murmurs.
Maybe I should let Benedict change my contract after all.
As if he can sense my panic, he calls.
“Oh, this is him now,” I say, trying to back away from Ellie and toward my desk.
“Tell him to buy you some fall flair!” she yells, gesturing to my blank cubicle.
I can hear the smile in his voice when I bring the phone up to my ear and tuck myself down into the innermost corner of my cube. “I need to buy you what?”
“Nothing, we have a problem.”
“What’sit, love?”
“What’sit?What itis,is that I am not good under pressure! We should have made a plan for questions about the proposal and the honeymoon. Ellie just grilled me and I failed miserably.”
“Come now, it couldn't have been that bad.”
“I said…” I wince, “I said, Baddabingbaddaboom.” He makes a disturbed sound. “Exactly.”
“What else did you tell her?” he asks with a chuckle.
I recap the conversation quickly and at a whisper, looking around for snoopy co-workers. He laughs and then encourages me. Now my answers are our official answers. It’s nice how easygoing he is. Except that relaxed nature of his is why I was flailing in that conversation to begin with.
“What’s our plan? Are you headed here? Have you picked our first outing or whatever? We need to get our stories straight.”
“Okay, darling, okay,” he exhales. “Mitch found me a house so I can come out by the end of the week.”
“A house?!”
He goes on casually, because yes, a house. He said that was his plan. I must’ve blocked it out because it’sa whole househe just bought for this little ruse, like he was buying a cup of coffee. “What’s your little town got going on Friday?”
“Ugh, probably fifty things.”
“Brilliant.” I sigh and fight the urge to groan but he ignores me, “You text me more questions people will ask, we can work on the answers.”
