He studies me for a beat before pulling his lips into a line and nodding.
“It’ll take some doing, but I’m sure we can rearrange a few of the details to allow that to happen, if it’s important to you.”
“Thank you,” I say in reply, surprised at his willingness to meet my request.
Again, he jots something down on a Post-it and sticks it to the binder.
He opens another binder. “This is the list of music I suggest for the ceremony and afterwards,” he says, pointing at a list of classical pieces.
“So… no Bon Jovi?” I say with my tongue firmly in my cheek.
He furrows his brow. “I’m not sure what Bon Jovi is. Is it a piece by Mozart? No, an Italian composer. Vivaldi, perhaps? ”
“Fred, are you telling me you don’t know who Bon Jovi is?”
“I do not.”
“Do you listen to pop music?”
“No,” he sniffs.
“Why not?”
“I’m perfectly content with classical music.”
“Classical is great, but what about when you want to letloose? You can’t exactly bust out a move in a shirt and socks to Bach.”
The corners of his mouth twitch. Almost a smile. Almost but not quite. “Bust out a move?” he questions. “And why in a shirt and socks?”
“You know, for fun. To let loose. And surely you know that scene fromRisky Business. The Tom Cruise movie? His parents are away?”
“I haven’t watched teen movies since I was… well, I haven’t watched many.”
I count off on my fingers. “You don’t listen to pop music, you don’t watch ‘teen’ movies. What do you do for fun?”
“I have my fun.”
I don’t believe him for a second.
“How exactly?” I challenge him.
“I have my ways.”
“You’re being very elusive. Why don’t you tell me? It’s not something embarrassing, is it? Or illegal?” My eyes grow wide. “It’s not illegal, is it?”
“Of course it’s not illegal. Now, let’s move on, shall we?”
I cross my arms. “Not until you tell me what you do to have fun.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to be your wife. I want to know you better.”
“Astrid—”
“It’sAsti, remember?”
“Asti,” he corrects. “I’m sure you’re very good at having fun, but I’ve had to spend my life on more serious matters.”
