Page 67 of Olivia's Only Pretending
“A hit with the kids.”
“Says the young buck.” I chuckled. “It would be fun to explore history through the lenses of romantic literature through the ages. My mind’s been running away with ideas since that meeting.”
“If your mind is running with it, that’s a sign, Liv.” Victor leaned his shoulder against his driver’s side door, tan arms crossed over his chest.
I shook my head. “It’s not at all how I envisioned this next step in my career going. It’s a little risky. I’m not sure what the department chatt?—”
Victor broke through my storm clouds like a warm ray of sunshine. “Remember why you’re doing this?”
I blinked.
“Your students. Not your career expectations or timelines, or even your department—it’s about the students. That’s who you spend ninety percent of your time talking about when we talk about work.”
I could still see how Chloe’s face lit up when she let the literature infuse the history lesson. How it got her an A.
“I say, run with the daydream.” Victor shrugged casually, but his voice was rough with emotion.
“Speaking of daydreams.” I walked closer to him. Watson was snoring loudly inches away in the truck’s backseat. “I need to see a picture of the wedding arch. I was told you would send me a picture, and you still haven’t.”
He closed his eyes and let out a breath. “It’s not ready.”
“Not ready?” I cocked my head to the side. “Is this like an artist thing? Can’t-show-it-until-it’s-done thing?”
He set his eyes on me. My arms felt nearly bare where he’d usually have grabbed them in playful annoyance.
“It’s more of a terrified-to-show-my-work thing.”
“But it’s me.” I pressed a hand to my heart.
He chewed on his lip. “Yes, it’syou. I probably care the most what you think.”
A breath hitched in my throat. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’sme, the girl who loves everything you make.”
Victor ran a hand through his mess of waves. I reached up, grabbing his wrist without thinking, and pulled him a step toward me.
“I don’t have to see it to know it’s going to be one of Emma and Gabriel’s favorite parts of their wedding—because everything you make is my new favorite thing ever. Victor Hernandez is the most talented carpenter. Everything he makes is magic.”
“Magic.” He fought a grin.
“Magic.”
He took a deep breath in and out, then pulled his hand from mine to pull out his cell phone. “Man, your speeches always work on me.”
“Yay.” I clapped my hands eagerly.
He held his phone in front of me, open to a photo of the wedding arch. Two teakwood triangles overlapped one another. The smaller, wider triangle and the narrower triangle both shared a space in the center, both together, both separate.Breathless, I zoomed in to see how he’d already begun his trademark engraving details—little vines of ivy.
I glanced up to find his eyes warm on me, studying my face as if my words were critical to him. A remedy he’d been waiting for.
“Like I said, magic,” I said, my voice tender at the core.
He sighed deeply. His relief was palpable.
“Get ready, buddy. Your inbox is going to be flooded with requests after the wedding guests see this. It’s …” I looked at the picture again. “It’s truly beautiful.”
A car rolled past us in the parking lot. Watson’s tail wagged in his sleep. He cleared his throat. “Thank you. But there’s still some work to be done.”
“I’d use it at my own wedding as is.”
