My lips twitch. “In romance books and movies, it’s the moment a couple has their first meeting, usually in some sort of adorable way.”
“I see.” He scratches his head. “I didn’t realize it had a name.”
“It does. Most romances follow the same formula. There’s a meet-cute. The fun-and-games slash getting-to-know-you stage. The climax. The dreaded third-act breakup. The makeup. And finally, the happily ever after. It’s why junkies like me keep coming back for more. We crave the predictability.”
“Is this something I should be taking mental notes on for our own story?”
“No. We’re not in a book or a movie.” I place a hand on his shoulder. “Your job is to focus on sellingusto your family. Leave the details to me.”
“Phew.” He relaxes. “That’s good because memorizing things is not my forte.”
“I feel like there’s a story behind this.” I grin.
“There’s many stories.”
We arrive back at the car. He clicks the key fob.
“What’s the most recent blunder?”
He opens the door and pauses. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to make fun of me.”
“I won’t.” I hold up my hand. “Cross my heart.”
“I was asked to give the best man’s speech at my cousin’s wedding.”
“Uh-huh, and . . .?”
“I put it off until a week before the event. Even though I practiced, when it was my turn to stand and deliver, my mind went blank.”
“Did you have a paper copy of the speech or index cards you could use?”
“No.” He palms his forehead. “I was so confident I could do it without. I left them at home.”
“So how did the speech end up? What did you say?”
“I pulled a few song lyrics together from Taylor Swift and tried to pass them off as my own advice.”
“That’s actually pretty clever, but I can’t imagine people fell for it.” I shake with laughter.
“No, they didn’t. One of my biggest mistakes was telling Frankie about it. She wouldn’t stop singing or playing Swiftie songs every time we coached together. It was a miserable few weeks.”
“Remind me never to get on her bad side,” I muse, climbing into the car.
“Deal.”
As we back out of the parking lot and make our way toward the city center, I find myself feeling increasingly connected to the man sitting next to me. Being in this fake relationship is going to be a piece of cake. I won’t have to pretend very hard to be attracted to him or play off his personality. I almost wish I’d suggested it sooner.
Chapter Thirteen
We’re into day three and a half of our road trip. Although we’d initially planned to travel along the coast to Murcia, the capital of the region, Fernando talked me into changing our itinerary. We traveled north toward the cities of Toledo and Madrid. As he put it, aside from some Roman ruins and the world’s largest palm grove, there wasn’t much to write home about in our original plan.
Toledo, on the other hand, is famous for its jewelry, the one thing I have a weakness for. I don’t have a large collection, but the pieces that I do own are all things I’ve inherited from my grandma or pieces of fine jewelry that I’ve treated myself to whenever I hit a milestone, like graduating from vet school. The way I look at it is that one pair of diamond earrings will last you a lifetime, unlike the less expensive imitation stuff.
“What did you think of the factory tour?” Fernando asks as we leave the jewelry maker’s workshop and enter the retail showroom.
“I’m mind blown. The craftsmen have so much talent. I can’t believe they can make such tiny, intricate items by hand.”
During the tour, we watched as an artisan carefully inlaid threadsof gold into blackened steel, creating the intricate jewelry Toledo is famous for. First, they sketched designs directly onto the metal surface, then chiseled delicate grooves to hold the fine gold or silver wires. We watched how they hammered the wires in place, then polished the entire piece until the designs gleamed.
