Chocolate for Two (4 page)

“Clearly not. Well, Jake and I haven’t even begun to think about dates yet, but it definitely won’t be before February. I was thinking maybe we’d do something next summer. Probably something really small.”

“Out here?”

“I guess, but to be honest I haven’t been able to face the idea of making endless to-do lists for the big day. It just seems like so much work to get to the
married
part, which is all I really want.”

“You think his mom would be cool with a small wedding? I get the impression that’s probably not what she has in mind.”

I glanced at the enormous wedding planner sitting—still untouched—on my desk. Before I could reply, my doorbell rang.

“Let me guess, that’s Jake,” McKenna said.

I raised my eyebrows. “How did you know?”

“Just a feeling. He’s still ringing the bell?” Jake had keys to my apartment, and while he used them to enter the building, he was too polite to let himself into my apartment. He always rang the bell, or knocked softly if it was late. I thought it was adorable.

I stood up and started walking toward the kitchen. “What can I say? He’s crazy-polite. Always has been, always will be, I imagine. I’m certainly not complaining.”

“You’d better not be.”

“So I guess I need to run, prego. And I guess I need to start calling you
prego
again, even though I feel like I just stopped.”

“Good timing, anyway, because I need to get home and prepare Elizabeth’s dinner.”

“Are you going to fry up the bacon you’re bringing home?”

She laughed. “Hardly. Notice I used the word
prepare
, not
cook
. Warming things up is about all Hunter and I have time for these days.”

I set my wineglass on the counter and turned toward the front door. “Hey, as long as your child isn’t starving, it’s all good. You’re talking to a thirty-one-year-old woman who still eats ice cream for dinner at least twice a month.”

“Ah, that makes me miss you, my friend.”

“I miss you too.”

I hung up the phone as I opened the door. “I’m so sorry for keeping you wait—”

I stopped midsentence.

Jake was standing there, a bouquet of white flowers in his hand.

I smiled and put a hand over my heart. “For
moi
?”

He looked behind me. “Are there any other beautiful women I want to marry here?”

I snatched the bouquet and stood on my tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. “You know, speaking of marrying me, I haven’t asked you yet if I look any different.”

“What do you mean?”

I held my arms out to the side and spun around once, still holding the bouquet. “I mean, I am a
betrothed woman
now, Jake. Do I look any, you know,
different
?”

“How exactly would you look different?”

I shrugged and let my arms go limp. “I don’t know. It just sort of seemed cool to think I might look more grown-up or something. So, are you hungry? I was thinking we could order Thai.”

He laughed. “Sounds good.”

I walked into the kitchen and pulled out a vase. “How about a glass of wine? I just poured myself one.”

“I’d love one. You want me to put those in water for you?”

I handed him the bouquet and nodded to the vase on the counter. “Sure, thanks.” He turned on the tap as I reached back into the cabinet for another wineglass.

“So, guess who called me with big news today?” I topped off my drink, then pulled a corkscrew out of a drawer and went to work on a fresh bottle of pinot noir.

He looked at me. “Big news?”

“Yep.”

He took the vase into the living room and set it on my wicker chest, then kicked off his shoes and took a seat on the couch. “I bet…McKenna’s pregnant.”

I froze.

“How did you know?” I set the bottle on the counter and walked into the living room, my hands on my hips.

“I’m right?”

I nodded. “How did you guess so fast?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just had a feeling.”

“I don’t get it.” I held my palms up. “I’ve known McKenna since freshman year of college, and
I
didn’t see this coming. How do you know these things, Jake?”

He chuckled and shrugged again. “I don’t know. I just do.”

I pointed at him before turning back to the kitchen. “You’re too perceptive. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair that I’m perceptive?” he called after me.

I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me now. “No.”

“Why exactly isn’t it fair?”

I picked up the glasses and walked back into the living room, then handed him one and plopped down on the couch. “You’re already good-looking, funny, athletic, and super thoughtful. Now you’re beginning to make me think you’re an alien or something.”

He scratched his eyebrow. “You think I’m an alien?”

I laughed and sipped my wine, then gestured toward the vase. “These beautiful flowers, for example. What are they called?”

“Camellias.”

“Never heard of them, but I’m sure you have. And I bet they mean something, right?”

He smiled. “Maybe.”

I pointed at him again. “See? How do you
know
these things?”

He laughed. “I don’t know. I just do.”

“So what do they mean?”

He set his glass down, then leaned toward me and pushed a loose strand of hair out of my eyes.

“The camellias?”

I nodded.

“They mean I think you’re adorable,” he said softly.

I swooned and forgot all about my little rant.

I set my glass next to his, then scooted closer to him and leaned my head against his arm. “What did I ever do to deserve you, Jake?”

“I think the same thing about you every day,” he whispered into my hair.

We stayed like that for a few wonderful moments, then I gave him a quick kiss and stood up. “You do realize that every time you come over here, we order out, right? Please tell me you’ve noticed that.”

He nodded. “I’ve noticed.”

“So you do understand that means I can’t cook, right?”

He scratched the side of his neck. “You think that’s some sort of secret you’ve managed to keep under wraps until now? Because I hate to break it to you, but I figured that out a while ago.”

I put my hands on my hips. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re marrying. It’s not like after we say
I do
I’m going to turn into Rachael Ray or anything.”

“I know what I’m marrying.”

“I also can’t sing, and I can’t draw either. I have a big mouth, and you already know I have a terrible sense of direction.” I counted out the deficiencies with my fingers. “Shall I go on? I’m highly flawed, Jake.”

“I love your flaws.”

I snapped my fingers. “Okay, then, just want to make sure we’re clear on that.” I pointed to the phone. “So are you good with pad thai chicken and drunken noodles with shrimp? Maybe some spring rolls to mix it up?” I did a little cabbage patch dance.

He covered his eyes with one hand. “If you stop dancing immediately, I will eat anything.”

“Deal.”

I placed our order, and as soon as I hung up the phone, Jake cleared his throat.

“So, my mom called today.”

I was suddenly a little nervous, although I wasn’t sure why.

I sat back down on the couch. “What did she have to say?”

“She and my dad want to throw us an engagement party.”

“An engagement party? Really?”
How nice of them.

He cleared his throat again. “Yes…um….this Saturday.”

I flinched. “As in five days from now?”

He nodded.

“As in the weekend Andie gets here?”

“I know it’s a bit rushed, but apparently it’s the only date before Christmas that works for all my mom’s closest friends. And as you’ll soon learn, she’s really into her friends.”

I stood up and started walking toward the kitchen. “Where do they want to have it?” Jake’s parents lived in Florida.

“Would you call off the engagement if I said…Florida?”

I stopped walking.

A party for us.

With practically zero notice.

All the way down in Florida.

With a bunch of people I’ve never met.

The same weekend one of my best friends is moving to town.

I bit my lip.

Ugh.

“What do you think?” Jake said.

I forced a smile.

“Sounds wonderful.”

He laughed. “Liar.”

“Okay, you’re right. It actually sounds excruciating. But I’m guessing we don’t have a choice?”

“Define what you mean by
choice
.”

I pointed at him. “Very funny.”

“I promise it won’t be that bad. On such short notice, they’ll probably just have it at their house.”

“Their house? Really? Is it big enough?” I pictured my dad’s place, which could fit like eight people on a good day.

Before he could reply, the buzzer rang.

“That can’t be the food already.” I stepped to the door and pressed the intercom. “Yes?”

“FedEx for Waverly Bryson.”

FedEx again?

I trotted downstairs to retrieve the package.

It was from Ava McIntyre.

As I opened the box, I felt a tiny pit in my stomach.

This one was full of bridal magazines, each one marked with dozens of sticky notes.

Oh boy.

I was walking home from work that Wednesday when my phone rang. I fished it out of my purse and smiled to see Jake’s name on the display.

“Why, hello there,
fiancé
,” I said.

“I could say the same to you. I’m just about finished here. Want to meet for a drink? Maybe a little dinner?”

I brightened up. “Now? I thought you were working late tonight.”

“I was, but my last meeting got canceled, and I can’t think of anyone I’d like to spend my newly free evening with more than you. Though I could stay here and do paperwork…”

“No paperwork! Paperwork sucks!”

He laughed. “You don’t have to do anything for the show tonight?”

I shook my head. “Tonight? No. Tomorrow? That’s another story. Tomorrow is going to suck.”

“Do you realize you just used the word
suck
twice in the span of like ten words?”

“I know, I suck. I’m just frazzled.” I gave myself a little tap on the head.

“Meet me at Armando’s in twenty minutes?” Its convenient location a few blocks from my apartment, yummy pasta dishes, and generously sized wineglasses had turned Armando’s into my and Jake’s favorite neighborhood date place.

“Deal. See you there,
fiancé
.”

I walked slowly up the hill to Cadman Plaza Park, which marked the end of Dumbo and the beginning of Brooklyn Heights. Summer was still in full swing, and though the heat could be unbearable during the day, the reward was a steady stream of gloriously balmy evenings. Gloriously balmy evenings only occur about once every three years in San Francisco, so I savored every single one here and tried my hardest not to curse the hot, humid days when I was a sticky, sweaty mess.

As I crossed through the park, I happened upon a pickup soccer game. I knew I’d easily beat Jake to the restaurant if I walked straight there, so I decided to stick around for a few minutes to watch. The players, all male, ranged from late teens to gray-templed dads, and judging by the way the ball kept flying out of bounds, their skill level was just as varied.

I took a seat on an empty bench, and soon a ball came rolling my way. As I kicked it back toward the field, I was struck by a vivid memory. Years earlier in San Francisco, after a run across the Golden Gate Bridge, I’d walked by the Marina Green on my way home. Along the way I passed a bunch of guys playing football, all of them clearly having fun and most likely completely oblivious to my presence. At the time I’d desperately wanted to stop and watch, but I’d kept walking, too self-conscious to just stand there by myself. What had I been so afraid of?

This time I sat on the bench, alone, and watched.

I wasn’t nervous.

I wasn’t self-conscious.

I was just happy to be there, enjoying a beautiful summer evening.

While the guys played their game, I played with the ring on my left hand.

I was happy it was there too.

I couldn’t help but think how much had changed in my life since that day at the Marina Green in San Francisco.

I finally felt like a grown-up, and I’d never been more excited about my future.

I was two blocks away from Armando’s when my cell phone rang again. I fished it out of my purse and looked at the caller ID.

No way.

I held the phone up to my ear.

“No way.”

“Bryson! How goes it?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Is this a crank call?”

“Awww, you’re killing me.”

“Davey? Is it really you?”

“Yes indeed, the one and only. How are you?”

I was momentarily speechless. Davey, or Dave, Mason, had been my biggest (and favorite) client back in San Francisco for several years, during my days as an account director at KA Marketing. We’d been pretty close, but then one day he quit, got married, and took off backpacking around the world. We’d lost touch somewhere along the way.