At the mention of Lacey, he tightens his grip on the wheel and presses his lips into a firm line. “I’m not sure why we saw her here, but yes. She will most likely be at the wedding.”
“A wedding? You need me to be your fake girlfriend for a wedding?”
His voice is cold as he replies. “Yep. My buddy, Tate, is getting married this weekend. I need to drive down to Dasher Valley tomorrow morning to be there for the bachelor’s party tomorrow night. Then the wedding is Saturday afternoon. We will drive back on Sunday.”
“We? I haven’t said yes,” I state. He looks at me for a brief second. It’s an expression I would imagine a fox, if it were human, would wear the moment it knew it had locked onto a rabbit. Or maybeit’s the look a bird of prey sports as its talon close around a small puppy.
“Yes, we. Us. You and me. I hope you didn’t have weekend plans. If you did, cancel them. I’m cashing in on the whole ‘I’ll make it up to you’ right now.”
“He didn’t give you any more information?” Emma Jane asks, a certain joyous flair to her voice. I narrow my eyes at the ash-blonde barista who is currently sitting across from me in the empty café. I helped her clean earlier as we chatted before we sat down to talk some more. She’s been my constant companion since everyone else abandoned me at the beginning of the month.
Ugh, fine. I know I need to quit thinking that way.
Karoline got married and moved to Nashville, and my sister got engaged and moved to a whole different country. They both call me frequently and check in on me and love me well from afar, but it’s not the same. I also have my lifelong best friend, Hadley, but she’s married and now expecting. I don’t always want to pull her from taking care of Braxton and her pregnant self over my inconsequential, miniscule lack-of-love problems.
I’m thrilled Emma Jane came to work at this coffee shop-slash-bookstore, and I’m ecstatic she’s single and intent on staying that way.
I take a sip of my vanilla latte. “He told me to be ready to go by six in the morning and to pack a pretty dress. That’s all.”
She rests her chin in her hand as she leans on the square, wooden table. “Hm. That doesn’t give you much to go on. How long have you two been dating? What’s the meet-cute story? Do you know each others’ favorites?” She drums her fingers as she continues to spout off things me and Stone apparently need to talk about on the drive down to his hometown tomorrow.
His hometown.
I’m going to my boss’s hometown tomorrow and will presumably meet his family as his pretend girlfriend while some pretty married woman, who gets him in a dark tizzy, will be watching us at his friend’s wedding.
What in the romantic comedy novel is my life right now?
I should’ve said no.
Stood my ground.
But the romance author inside of me was a little too greedy to get her hands on this situation for “book research,” the lonely girl inside me was chomping at the bit to escape for the weekend, and the dark woman inside of me was foaming at the mouth to experience a date with Stone Harper.
My brain packed up its bags and took a vacation during that interaction, much to its dismay now.
“Good thing we have six hours to discuss all the things,” I jest with a roll of my eyes and another sip of my latte. “I need to quit my job after this.”
“Why quit? You don't trust yourself to go back to professionalism after pretending to be his girlfriend for the weekend?” Emma Jane bats her eyelashes innocently.
“Correct.” I decide to be honest with her since she’s one of the few people I have in my life right now, and she’s not directly connected with my other friends. “I might actually date him if I don’t quit.”Or worse…“This close proximity is slowly suffocating me. He’s the devil, and I have no business dancing with him.”
“You’ve danced with him once, I recall.” She giggles and stands, mimicking parts of our dance from back in February with shocking grace. How does she remember that? I didn’t even know her as well back then.
In fact, I still don’t know herthatwell. We talk about me when we’re together. I should change that.
Because I think Little Miss I’m Never Going to Get Married might be a closeted romantic. “The mistake of my lifetime.”
“Well, if you do date him, then great. If not, that’s great, too. I’m currently matchmaking an important person in my life, and I believe it’s going well. I even smell a wedding on the horizon. If you and Mr. Desperately In Love With You don’t work out for some reason, I can get you a new man.”
Yep. She’s a romantic. I should have known that by the nickname she gave Stone when I confessed to her about his insistent behavior a couple weeks ago.
“Matchmaking?”
She nods. “Mhmm. I’m quite good at it, too. I’ve only had this one success, but I used to mentally pair up couples in my head as a child. I’ve only now begun to act on it. I’m starting my own business. What do you think of my idea?”
Emma Jane is still dancing around tables on the wooden floors of the empty shop, her long skirt and apron billowing with herturns. She looks carefree and happy and graceful as the string lights create a warm ambience to the night. Books and Beans is technically closed, but she let me in and made me a cup of coffee anyways. I kind of adore this girl.
“I love that idea, E. J. What would your parents think?”
