Page 6 of Say I Do

“It’s the best policy,” I chirp.

“And it’s one of the things I love about you. I just don’t want you to have to think that you always have to be so chipper if you’re not feeling it. You’ve had a shit day.” One of the things he loves? Did I catch that right? “You okay? You went quiet on me. You never go quiet.”

“Yeah, it’s just nice to hear. Sometimes if you pretend to be happy, you can trick yourself into believing it.” I think I have been doing that for most of my life. It’s exhausting at times, but it’s also what’s gotten me through some of the toughest times.

“You shouldn’t have to pretend, Gabriella.”

Pretending is all you often have.

5

CALEB

The car falls quiet again. What I usually consider comforting is now exactly the opposite. I despise it, but I do not wish for her to believe that she is obligated to fill the silence. I don’t want her to think she has to do anything. But her words have given me purpose. I want the pretending to end.

"Oh, the address,” she finally says. “My phone is being a brat.” Gabriella lets out an adorable huff.

“Why don’t you stay with me?” I offer.

“What? I couldn't do that.”

“Why not? I have a penthouse with five bedrooms.”

“Why do you have five bedrooms?”

“I wanted to be on the top floor, and the resale value is top tier.”

“I don’t want to intrude. You’re already doing too much. The ride and then offering me a job.” Shit, how can I convince her to staywith me? An idea pops into my mind. In the corporate world, you have to think fast. Being at the top of your game is crucial.

"Actually, it's part of the job. I need an assistant.” I toss it out there.

“Don't you have one?”

“I have one for work, but I need a personal one that handles things outside of work. Keeps the rest of my life in line.”

“Hmm.” I glance in the rearview mirror. I can barely make her out, but I can see that she is tapping two fingers against her mouth as she thinks. “I’m not really sure how to do that. I’d be lost and might make things worse.”

Always so damn honest. She has to be the worst applicant ever. You’re supposed to talk yourself up, not down. Gabriella needs someone to protect her from the rest of the world. Then she can be her bubbly, happy self, and nothing can harm her.

“I’m not sure either, but we can learn together,” I offer.

“Do you really need a personal assistant, or are you being your sweet self and just offering because you feel bad?" Every time she calls me sweet, I want to laugh. No one would ever call me that.

“Trust me, Gabriella, I promise you I need this.” More than she probably wants to know. "You'd be doing me a favor." I keep going, wanting to sell this. "I'm really behind because of the holidays." Little does she know, I couldn’t give a shit about the holidays.

"Oh, like at home?" I can hear the curiosity in her voice. "Is your home not Christmas-ready?"

"No, it's not." That's the honest truth. "I have nothing done for Christmas."

"And you want to, like, decorate? Buy gifts and such?"

“Yes to all those things."

"That kinda sounds fun. I'd probably do that for free."

Jesus Christ. I don't want to think about all the ways people have likely exploited her kindness. Thankfully, I have now found her. No one will ever take advantage of her again.

"I would pay you. If I didn't pay you, I wouldn't feel right.”

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