by R. S. Elliot
“Great.”
“Great.” Silence slipped between us. Only the clicking of computer keys filled the void, until the printer chimed in. Lyndsey reached behind her and removed the page from the printer before handing it back to me. “Here’s her information.”
“Thanks,” I said, once again falling into that awkward gap of uncertainty. Did I ask her about her day? It felt so cold returning to a purely professional relationship after all we’d been through. Lyndsey could barely even hold eye contact with me for longer than a second. She wouldn’t want to endure meaningless small talk for the sake of preserving a friendship.
And yet, my feet fastened to the floor. I didn’t rise to walk out, and neither did she. Did I ask her about the next steps in my relationship with Crystal? Was there something else I needed to know? This all felt like it was happening so fast, and I still had no idea how to handle any of it. I knew how dating worked. I knew how to behave around women.
Or so I thought. But I was completely lost when it came to this ordeal Vanessa had roped me into.
“So...we’re done here?” I asked uneasily.
Lyndsey’s golden brown eyes lifted up to meet mine.
That same mix of confusion and something I could not discern lingered between us. “Yes. Well, not really. I’ll just...the agency will check in on the two of you every week until you’ve made a clear commitment to one another. Since it’s not like a typical dating service, you don’t have an innumerable amount of time to decide whether you’re compatible or not. So, we usually give you both about thirty days to make your decision toward final steps.”
“Thirty days?” I couldn’t have heard that right. “To propose marriage?”
Her brows knitted into a V in the center of her forehead. “That is what you signed up for.”
“My sister signed me up for this,” I corrected. Because there was no way in hell I’d have missed a stipulation like that. Thirty days to decide on a lifetime. Were they insane?
Lyndsey huffed and leaned forward. “You didn’t want any of the mystery in dating. The system varies in that you don’t have to question whether you both want the same things or not. It isn’t like a normal date, where you ask each other basic questions on the first date. You’ve probably already talked about what kind of marriage you want or how many kids you want to have, right?”
I didn’t answer. She read the cues clearly in my face and only nodded her understanding. Of course, Crystal and I had discussed our plans for the future already. We both wanted to get married and start a family. The exact number of kids was open for debate.
Maybe it wasn’t the sort of thing you opened up with on a regular date. It was the sort of thing serious couples discussed.
So, fine. We’d already skipped about six months into a relationship. But there was no telling how we would fare under stress-induced situations or how compatible we were once living together. Would we grow sick of each other after a few months? What if I never felt that cosmic spark with Crystal?
The way I had with Lyndsey.
“The next few weeks are about how you fit into each other’s lives,” Lyndsey continued, discussing my future as easily as investing in a new home. “Things like, do you feel that spark, that connection? Can you see yourself together in the next few years?”
“Few years? You mean the rest of my life?” There was no sugar-coating it. We were talking about starting a family, building a life. This wasn’t something I could grow out of in a few years and easily exchange for something else. Whether Crystal and I decided we didn’t suit one another after one year or four, there would be repercussions neither of us would be able to avoid. “You’re expecting me to make a monumental decision based off a few weeks.”
Lyndsey shrugged. Every inch of her body language suggested this was no more than a simple transaction, something to be taken lightly. Every part except her eyes. Those bore the weight of a thousand questions, ones poised at me, to herself, and to the company she supported. When they landed on me, no matter how briefly, they harbored something akin to pity.
She couldn’t believe any of this. Lyndsey Saunders, who valued her freedom above all else. How could she sell people this trite version of “happy ever after” knowing they were taking the gamble of a lifetime?
“Think of this like an intensive course in life lessons,” she said. “You both are on the same path, but you need to know if your methods for getting there are the same. Does she do things that annoy you that you either can or can’t overlook? Is she too messy or too rigid in her routines? Are you both compatible in…”
She stopped, blushing clear down to her roots. Now that was something I thought I’d never see. Lyndsey, actually embarrassed discussing the intimate details of dating. I ignored the images induced by her obvious train of thoughts. Thinking about Lyndsey, naked beneath me, was no way to stomach this idea of marriage to someone else.
“...other areas,” she said. “It’s all just about a mock-up life right now.”
“So, we’re basically taking a test drive at the whole marriage thing.”
“Essentially.”
“This can’t be what your grandparents had in mind when they started this thing.” I wasn’t sure why I said it. Only that I regretted it the moment it fled past my lips. I had no right invoking her memories of her grandparents to suit my needs. But she had to see how far all of this was from the vision her grandparents likely had for their business.
This was cold, lifeless—all business. Her grandparents loved with all their hearts, desperately, passionately.
They lived a great love story, or so she’d said. Would this really have been the life they’d wanted for others?
However imprudent the comment, it jolted Lyndsey out of the cold facade she’d cloaked around herself. Her chest heaved upward on a sigh, as if recalling the love from ages ago. Her gaze softened over mine, overflowing with secret messages of hope and love she wanted no man to ever hear. Deep down, she was just like the rest of us. A hopeless romantic.
Even if she didn’t want to admit it.
“It was a different time back then,” she said softly.
“No,” I whispered. “I’m not buying that.”
“This is what you need to do.” She tapped her hands against the table, reasserting the procedures with a force both in her words and actions. Was she now trying to convince herself? “If you don’t want to waste everyone’s time, then it needs to be thirty days. If you decide in, say, a year from now that you and Crystal aren’t compatible, you’ve not only wasted her time and opportunities to meet someone else, but yours as well.”
“Yes, because making life-changing decisions on a schedule is completely rational.”
She tilted her chin higher, glaring down her nose at me. “People have gotten married in less time.”
“And ninety percent of them regretted it. Eighty percent probably even got divorced.”
“You’re being cynical.”
“I’m being cynical?” I nearly propelled myself across the table. “You’re the one manipulating my marriage into a business transaction. Who expects someone to get married after knowing a person for only thirty days?”
“It’s reasonable.”
“You don’t really believe that.” She couldn’t. This was all madness. “You of all people know you can’t make decisions like this.”
“I know that when you meet the right person, it doesn’t matter what limitations of time you have. You just know they are the one you want to be with.”
Well, she had me there.
Though such a declaration hardly made me feel any better. The only person who incited those types of emotions was sitting right across from me, urging me to fall in love with someone else. “You know that?”
“Yes.” She swallowed, her voice hoarse and dry. “I also know it isn’t fair to string someone along if you have no intentions of proposing to them in the future.”
An old ache pinged in the center of my chest, setting o
ff like a signal triggered by an unknown assailant. No. No one wanted to get their hopes up about a relationship, only to find the one person they wanted was the one person they couldn’t have.
“So, just take thirty days to make a decision,” Lyndsey added. “No one is saying you have to propose at the end. If you aren’t feeling it, then it’s a ‘no’. And we start all over again.”
“Fine.” I nodded. There was no going backward, only forward. If this is what I still wanted, then the only option was to keep trying and pursue the next steps. Only one persistent question held me back.
Did I still want any of this anymore?
Chapter Sixteen
Lyndsey
Of course, they were perfect for one another.
Crystal was everything Hunter wanted in a woman. Safe, reliable, and nice to look at, like a shiny new car.
And she would love Hunter and be completely, endlessly devoted to him.
Who wouldn’t? The man actually cared about people and put his life on the line everyday to protect them. He listened, even when he didn’t have to. His embrace made a woman feel warm and wanted, safe.
Loved.
Not to mention, the man could kiss like the devil. Among other things.
Warmth scaled up the side of my cheeks, lapping against my skin with its fiery touch. Just imagining his hands on my body, his lips roving over my most intimate parts was enough to leave me begging for more. Getting through that meeting with him had been just short of being in a medieval torture chamber. Not only did I have to ignore the tension pulling deep within the pit of my stomach and fight through a flood of fantasies only Hunter could fulfill, I had to mercilessly coerce him into accepting our thirty-day policy.
The one that said he would have to propose marriage or choose another candidate.
There would be no other candidate though. If there was such a thing as a perfect match, Crystal was the woman for him. I knew from the moment I first met her, she was the one.
His missing half.
There was no prolonging the match. If I sent Hunter out on a string of unsuccessful dates, then his frustration would lead him to leave the service, which would put me in the same situation as if I’d slept with him anyway, only without all the entertaining parts.
This was all for the best. Hunter and I weren’t meant to be together.
And I had no intentions of giving him everything he wanted. I wanted to see the world, try new things, and start new adventures. None of which I could do while being tied to my home and the eight children he expected his wife to pop out at will.
You know very well that, that’s not what Hunter’s about.
No, that was my fear of commitment talking. My fear of doing anything longer than three weeks at a time.
Though, it was slowly giving way to another fear. One I didn’t think was possible after all this time.
I passed through the hallways, leaving Hunter to mull over his decision in the conference room in peace. A colorful painting in the hallway caught my eye, the only splash of color in the bland furnishings my cousins undoubtedly selected.
My grandparents loved color and flair, as was evident in the many themed bedrooms upstairs in Hummingbird Hollow. Every room told a story. Even the downstairs rooms, which varied from blue and gold color pallets to rich autumn hues. They had not been the ones to decorate this office. At least not as it stood now.
Except this painting.
The painting stood out on its own, depicting a wintery scene beside an ice skating rink. Colorful lights twinkled on a Christmas tree, towering over the small people and nearly meeting the tops of the small downtown shops and buildings. A few daring skaters braved the frigid temperatures, twirling about on the ice in frozen portraits of happiness.
Two figures stood out among them. Both skaters, locked in a loving embrace, stole the viewer’s attention almost instantly. They were clearly the focal point of the entire piece—two hearts suspended in one moment in time.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A voice said beside me.
I turned toward Irma, who smiled up at the painting with the same starry-eyed look in her features as I felt in mine.
“It was your grandfather’s gift to your grandmother,” Irma continued. “He gave it to her on their tenth wedding anniversary.”
I nodded. “It’s breathtaking. But why is it all the way back here? It should be in the lobby or something like that, where everyone can see and enjoy it.”
Irma laughed, a tight sound somewhere between a snort and scoff. “It was at one point. But your cousins thought it was too sentimental. They wanted to move it into Hummingbird Hollow, but your grandmother insisted it remained here. It was a symbol of your grandparents’ love. One they hoped to bring here, to others.”
That sounded all too familiar, too. None of this felt like my grandma and grandpa, or any of the principles they stood for. Kyle and Vanessa must have spent years slowly appropriating everything they could get their hands on, dissolving the pieces of the company that reflected the interests of our grandparents until nothing of theirs remained.
This was Kyle’s company now. It likely had been for years. My grandmother lost interest in it after my grandfather passed away. And even before then, they’d been too distracted and too tired to put all their time into it.
This can’t be what your grandparents had in mind when they started this thing.
Why had those words bothered me so much?
He was throwing my words back in my face, using personal details I never should have shared with him against me. And yet…
He was right.
My grandparents stood for love. It was all they ever cared about. Yet, somewhere along the way, their business stopped being about love and more about the results.
“It is lovely,” I said again. “Maybe, I’ll move it back out into the lobby when Kyle and Vanessa aren’t watching.”
“I wish but they miss nothing.”
“What happened to this place?” I asked, to no one in particular. “Was it always like this?”
Irma laughed lightly, only this time without a hint of sarcasm. Only a soft, pleasant nostalgia reigned over her as she stared through the hallways around them. Whatever she saw in her travels through the past, it was not the cold monochromatic walls surrounding them now. With my grandparents at the helm, I imagine this place looked entirely different.
“It was wonderful,” Irma explained. “Customer satisfaction was through the roof. There was no need to worry about retaining clients so long as you treated them like people. Your grandparents took care of everything. I was their assistant, but they met with every client individually. They asked them specific questions about what they wanted, and they always seemed to match the right people with one another. It was a thing of magic to witness.”
“Then Vanessa and Kyle took over,” I said, recognizing the course of events instantly.
It was no surprise. My cousins’ idea of marriage and love existed on an entirely different plane than the rest of the world. It only stood to reason they would build an empire based on finding mutual agreements for marriage, rather than pairing up individuals with their soulmates.
“It didn’t change overnight, you know?” Irma explained. “Kyle was actually quite amazing at first. Vanessa, too. But something changed once they took over more responsibilities. I’m not sure if it was the need to make more money or feeling like they needed to compete in a market of dating apps. I always thought what made your grandparents’ business so special was how it didn’t do what all those newfangled apps did. It brought people together in ways almost beyond this world.”
A fire kindled deep within my heart, one fueled by pride and love for my grandparents who deserved every word of admiration. It was exactly how I remembered my grandmother and grandfather. They loved bringing people together. They loved people in general. It was why they always hosted so many parties, why Hummingbird Hollow acted as a home away from home for me.
They truly
lived in a world all their own.
One I could only hope to get close to one day, with someone who loved me even half as much as they loved each other.
“There is someone here to see you, by the way,” Irma said, suddenly. “I told him you were with a client, but he said he would wait. He’s in the lobby.”
“Thank you, Irma.” I squeezed her arm gently and exited to the lobby.
Flynn stood by the doorway, his back pressed against the wall and scouting his surroundings. When he saw me that rakish smile spread across his lips, and I swear the receptionist uttered something short of a swoon.
Sure! There was no doubt Flynn was attractive. He stood about six-one, with bright gray eyes that looked like storm clouds in a wintery sky. Every girl from our high school loved him. He exuded charm from every pore and would have been a great distraction from the concerns taking hold of me these past couple of weeks.
Except for the whole thing about seeing him like a brother.
No, I would need to find another way to keep my mind off of Hunter. Maybe I could go out to a bar one night and find a total stranger to occupy my time. We wouldn’t have to talk about our families or share intimate details about our lives. We could remain completely anonymous, then part ways without ever seeing one another again. It would be exciting.
Or would it? Was that what I even wanted anymore?
“What are you doing here?” I asked Flynn, my mind still raging with an onslaught of questions.
“I wanted to make sure we were still set for the party next week,” Flynn said, and closed the distance between us. “I assume your cousins approved?”
“They did. So, now I have the unpleasant task of putting this whole thing together in a week and two days,” I explained. “So, thanks for that.”
He inclined his head forward, tilting an ear toward me as if straining to hear me. “Thanks for coming up with a brilliant plan that keeps you safe without spending a fortune? You’re welcome. I’m always happy to help.”
“You’re sure this will work?”
