Page 58 of Love in Fine Print

“Your destination is on the right.”

I looked up and saw the sign for Morton’s Formal Wear where I was meeting Olivia in ten minutes. I’d told her that she didn’t have to come to the appointment, but she insisted. That’s not true, she hadn’t insisted. She’d just gotten quiet until I said that I’d love for her to come.

It was strange but I felt like even though we’d only known one another for a short time, I was getting to know her at an accelerated pace. We’d been engaged for one week now and we’d spoken every day, several times a day through text and FaceTime calls. Sadly, we hadn’t seen each other since I’d shown up at her house with Chinese food and a ring, and the truth was, I missed her.

Her caseload at work had kept her busy from before the sun came up to long after it went down. She’d been in court, meetings, or in mediation twelve out of the twenty-four hours she’d had in the day. And then she spent at least six hours on paperwork. Which left only six hours to eat, sleep, and shower. Which was why I’d tried to tell her that she didn’t need to comewith me today, but she probably wanted to make sure I didn’t embarrass her in our wedding photos.

Wedding photos. For some reason thinking about the wedding photos made everything feel more real to me, probably because the walls of Ever After were plastered with couples' wedding photos.

Even though I thought I was doing the right thing, I still worried sometimes about whether or not Gran would approve of this. Shehadalways been a fan of unconventional relationships. She’d even been a proponent of arranged marriages. She’d studied cultures where that was the norm in her relentless pursuit to be the best matchmaker in the world and they had very high success rates not just in terms of the percentage of divorces being low, but also the scale of happiness and fulfillment that people in arranged marriages experienced.

From what I remember, Gran said it was because they had more realistic views of what a marriage was and didn’t rely on feelings as much. Their love for one another was based on values, respect, and honoring one another. At least I think that’s what she’d said. I wish I’d paid more attention when she’d talked to me about all the things she’d learned. I’d usually zoned out because I’d never planned on getting married.

“Hi.”

A familiar voice sounded behind me and I turned around. Just like the first time I’d seen her, the air left my lungs. Her beauty was breathtaking. Literally.

She was dressed casually in jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt with a scoop neck, and she wore a delicate silver chain. Her long blonde hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders and her makeup was minimal. She looked soft, sweet, and very sexy.

I wondered, not for the first time, why she needed a fake husband. How had this woman remained single for over thirty-five years? She had a tough exterior, but anyone who spentfive minutes in her presence had to see past that. She had a huge heart, she was smart, funny, and, despite her prickly presentation, was very easygoing.

“You’re early,” she stated, seeming pleasantly surprised.

“You’re…beautiful.” I hadn’t meant to say that. My brain had overridden my mouth and forced it to come out. How could it not? She was absolutely stunning.

Her full lips turned up in a small grin. “I appreciate the method acting, but you don’t need to say that.”

I’d noticed that she did not take compliments well. The few that I’d given her, which in fairness were basic, and pretty lame, she’d dismissed immediately.

Could this woman actually be unaware of her appeal?

“I’m glad we have a few minutes. There’s something I’ve been needing to discuss with you, it’s why I wanted to meet last Saturday, but then you showed up and…” She looked down at her hand. “And I got distracted.”

Seeing the ring on her finger again instantly filled me with that same euphoric inner glow that I’d had when I’d slipped it on. A tingling warmth spread from my chest through my body.

“And then I kept meaning to bring it up,” she continued as she took a steadying breath, “but this week’s been crazy and I didn’t want to discuss it on the phone.”

“What’s up?” I asked, wondering why she sounded nervous.

Her eyes lifted to mine. “Cohabitation.”

It took a second for my brain to process what she’d said. I wasn’t expecting to hear that word, but she was always surprising me. “Do you mean living together?” I clarified.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” I nodded.

“I think we should.”

“Oh right.” I wondered why I hadn’t thought of that. Of course, we should live together. “Yeah, I agree.”

“We need to discuss it, obviously, but I love my condo and I know there’s not a backyard for Dolly, but I can walk her every morning and at night and yeah, I guess I’m asking, do you want to move in with me or…” her words trailed off. It was obvious that she wanted me to say yes, I would live with her, and I understood why. Her condo was amazing, and the house I lived in was over a hundred years old, the plumbing was bad, and it did not have central heat and air.

“I would. I love your condo, it’s amazing but?—”

“The business,” she inserted.

“No, it’s not the business. Do you remember Miss B? My neighbor.”

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