Page 21 of The Romantic Agenda
Malcolm sits on the bed. “I’d like to keep the surprise shopping trips to a minimum so we can stay on schedule.”
“Hey, that’s on her.”
“You could’ve said no. Next time, you should.”
Joy bites back her retort, deciding to cut her eyes at him instead. Malcolm has... control issues. Everything always has to go according to plan, and she hates that for him. Truly. Most times, she can work around it, but once he starts telling her what to do? Telling instead ofasking? Things fly off the rails with the quickness.
Several calming breaths later, Joy busies her hands sorting through her clothes and putting some of the items on hangers. “I figured it was a good opportunity for some reconnaissance, since she knows oh so much about me and I don’t even know her last name.”
“And? What do you think about her?”
“Too early to say. She cares about you, I think.” Being honestwith him will only help her in the long run. This isn’t her first potential girlfriend rodeo—just the first time she’s planning to use what she finds out for herself. If all goes well, he won’t be able to tell anything is amiss.
“Good.” Malcolm tugs at the hem of his shirt. “Earlier, I didn’t mean that I don’t want you two to spend time together. I do. Obviously.” His short, nervous laugh implies otherwise. “But I think it might be better if you focused on Fox like we agreed.”
For an apology, it’s one of his weaker ones. He knows he was rude, but he said what he said. And he meant it.
“I know how to multitask. Let me work, damn. You’re cramping my style.”
“All right.” Malcolm grins at her, shaking his head. “I sent you the weekend agenda while you were gone.”
Joy finds the swimsuit she wants—a navy blue bikini with gold chains for straps—and lays it flat on top of her other clothes. She quickly reads the weekend agenda email and suddenly her vacation feels like work. Like they’re prepping for a new pitch or executing a new contract. He’s given her the details and it’s up to her to help him see it through, because he’s the dreamer with the big ideas and tireless work ethic and she’s his touch of realism keeping him grounded with the finer details.
Malcolm approaches romance almost identically to the way he approaches business. If an exact formula for romantic interludes existed, he’d find it, patent it, and make even more money off it. The email contains an hourly schedule of events, extensive notes, conversation topics to avoid, and a list of Summer’s favorite things—even more proof that this trip had truly been custom-made specifically for her. Camping, boating, animals—
“Hiking!” Joy glares at him. “I don’t have—”
“Aht, hold on.” He gets up and retrieves a shoebox from the closet, sitting it down next to her.
“And I didn’t bring—”
Back to the closet he goes, returning with a bag from her favorite clothing boutique. “Already washed.”
Summer hit the gift-giving nail on the love-language head. Malcolm gives everyone presents all the time. Little things to let them know he appreciates them or that they’re on his mind. He’s so generous that it’s hard not to read more into the presents than what really existed on his end.
So no one, not even Grace, was surprised when Joy fell for Malcolm all those years ago. All their friends had thought he wassointo her too because he didn’t pay attention to anyone else the way he did to Joy. For her, they weren’t just little gifts from him—they were earnest proclamations of his feelings. She built it up in her heart on her own, but her friends built it up in her head first.
“He’s not into me like that.”
“Girl, yes he is!”
The more they speculated, the realer it felt.
Joy glances at the bag and box, heart swelling uncomfortably in her chest. He’d gone out of his way to specifically pick these items out for her, washed them, hid them in the closet so he could surprise her because he knew she would complain about not having hiking gear. Malcolm doesn’t do that for everyone. He only gives this level of attention to Joy and Joy alone.
Now.Joy should tell him now while they’re alone and her feelings are bubbling up so close to the surface.
But what would she say? How would she say it? In all her frantic panic of the morning, she never once considered the wordsshe’d use to confess. She hasn’t had time to find the right combination of sentences or how to make it sound heartfelt.
Joy decides to start slow. “When did you buy this? You invited me yesterday, so you couldn’t have gone this morning.”
Malcolm shrugs. “All that matters is you’re comfortable. I really do appreciate you being here.”
Now! Now! Do it now!
“Malcolm.” Joy hiccups a breath. She can’t look at him,she can’t, but she can say it. “Malcolm. I love you.”
“I love you too.” He says it quickly and without thought. Of course he does.
