by Holly Rayner
I turn to Shelby, my chest exposed. I watch her eyes wander over my pecs, and the elaborate hawk design that covers nearly a third of my chest, extending up over my collarbone and down over the upper part of my abdomen.
“Ah, the family crest’s animal—the victorious and spirited hawk,” Shelby says.
“Well…yes. It’s not just for the reason of being proud to be a Meijer, though,” I begin.
“Oh?” Shelby asks. She rolls up one of the cuffs of her jeans, then extends her foot out of the boat. Her big toe dips into the water, leaving a trailing wake of white.
I haven’t told many people the story behind my tattoo, but I find that I want to share it with her.
“I was backpacking in Mexico,” I say. “I set out on a hike at dawn. It was a very remote area, and after summiting one of the mountains, I lost my way trying to get back to town. It was over a hundred degrees outside, and I ran out of water.”
Shelby is listening intently. The feeling of being out there in the desert, alone under the pressing heat, is so removed from where we are now, slicing through the cool evening air on a bed of water. But in telling the story, my body starts to react. I can feel the heat.
“I was exhausted—nearly delirious with thirst. I could barely move, and on top of that, I didn’t know what direction to move in. I thought I was going to die. I collapsed down into the desert sand, ready to accept my fate. And then…”
“What?” Shelby asks, clearly immersed in the story.
“I saw a hawk overhead. I got this feeling…like I should follow it, so I did. It led me to a tiny village, where a woman got me into the shade and gave me water. I learned later that my grandmother passed away that same day—she had a stroke. I couldn’t shake the sense that somehow, it was her that saved my life…the hawk, our crest, and the timing…I’m not a superstitious man, but it seemed like fate.”
“Really? Wow.”
“I swear, Shelby. I couldn’t make this up if I tried. My tattoo is a reminder that I’m never alone. It gives me a sense of strength in the moments when I most need it.”
Shelby is quiet. The boat slices through the water with a soft rippling sound. The steady murmur of wood on water is punctuated occasionally by the sound of the tour guide moving the large paddle that he uses to steer us.
“I’m sorry,” Shelby says.
She pulls her foot back into the boat and tucks her knees up to her chest. We’re side by side on a wide bench seat, and she turns her body so that she can face me. I’ve placed the pizza box and our drinks on my other side, also on the bench. I reach for them.
“For what?” I ask, handing Shelby a bottle of apple juice.
She takes it from my hands, but doesn’t open it.
“All this time—since I got here—I’ve been acting like I know everything about you. There’s so much that I don’t know about you. I’m sorry if I’ve assumed that you are the same person that I used to know.”
“I’m still the same Julian,” I say, lifting one corner of my mouth in a crooked grin. “But now, there’s more of me. I grew up. I learned things.” I think of my recent moment of revelation, on the shore. “I’m still learning things—about myself, about life. I’m still changing.”
Shelby is quiet, thinking. “So am I,” she says after a moment. “Every day.”
I open up the pizza box and hand Shelby a slice.
We sit side by side, eating pizza like we used to do, and I can’t help but wonder: is this what love is like?
For so long, I’ve thought that I was happiest on my own. I thought that my life was as good as it was going to get: I’d found massive success, and enjoyed the freedom to do whatever I wanted with it. But what if there’s something more…something that I’ve been missing, all these years?
The thought is brief, but overwhelming. Before long, I’m doubting it with all of the resistance I can muster.
Shelby and I are friends, and that’s all there is to it. Soon, once our business deal with the ring is done, she’ll go back to the States. And I have to be okay with that.
But tonight, I don’t want to think about our business arrangement, or her impending departure.
For tonight, I just want to be here, with her. And as we drift down the canal, watching the city lights and stars come out around us, that’s exactly what I do.
Chapter 13
Julian
I had no idea I would be this nervous. My palms are sweating, forcing me to wipe them on my pants before shaking the banker’s hand.
It’s the same banker I met before, but he looks more imposing this time. Am I imagining it? His eyes, which seemed watery and weak to me before, now look steely and focused—determined to uncover the truth.
“Mr. Meijer,” he says. Even his grip feels firmer as we shake. He moves on to Shelby. “Miss…?”
“Bright,” Shelby answers. There’s a waver in her voice, and it sounds high and strained, almost like she’s unsure of her own last name.
Come on, Shelby, I think, silently trying to encourage her.
“Welcome to Van Boor N.V.,” the old man says. “This is Mr. Visser, our organization’s top lawyer.”
I recognize the lawyer from my meeting last week. He acknowledges me with a curt nod, and then does the same to Shelby. He doesn’t look nearly as friendly as he did when he was congratulating me on finding love, just a few days ago.
Mr. Visser, speaks next. “As you both know, we are gathered here today to verify the relationship between you, Julian Meijer, the heir of the Meijer Ruby, and Miss Shelby Bright, the woman you plan to propose to. The purpose of said verification is to avoid any false, untruthful scenarios, in which the integrity of the will would be violated. Now,” he clears his throat, “I’ll begin with some prepared questions.”
Shelby looks like she’s about to faint, and I’m betting I don’t look much better.
I shift in my chair, trying to shake off some of my nervous energy. It won’t do any good to tip them off to our game this early on.
“Julian,” the lawyer says, reading from an off-white sheet of paper. “Tell me about your first date with Shelby.”
Whew. We’ve practiced this one, and I know the pitfalls to avoid.
“I was in college and Shelby came to Europe to visit me. We went to a rugby game, then out to dinner. Asian fusion, if I remember correctly. Is that right, honey?” I look at Shelby, and see a smile creeping across her lips.
“That’s right,” she says. “Julian was going to get me a hot dog, but I’m terribly allergic to mustard, so we went to this great fusion restaurant instead. We had a wonderful time.”
“Sounds very sweet,” the banker said, nodding. “My wife and I—”
“Julian,” the lawyer says, cutting the banker off short. He seems to want to stick to business. “When is Shelby’s birthday?”
For a minute I feel fear, but then the date tumbles from my lips from somewhere deep inside of me. “June sixth,” I say. “She’s a Gemini, and I guess our relationship was written in the stars, since I’m a Leo—her best match. If you believe in that stuff,” I say with a chuckle, hoping it doesn’t sound forced.
“Her mother’s name?” the lawyer asks.
“Diane.”
“Her father’s name?”
“Shelby’s father chose not to be involved in his daughter’s life. She doesn’t talk about him much, but I believe his name is Chuck.”
The lawyer nods. “Shelby,” he says. “How long have you known Julian?”
“Since I was twelve,” she says. She’s still smiling, and I can tell that she’s warming up to the topic.
“Ah. And how did your relationship develop?”
“We went to school together,” she says. “We became friends. It happened pretty quickly, actually. I was put into an advanced English class, and Julian was held back because he was struggling with some of the translations between Dutch and English. We found out that we had a lot in common, and the things that we didn’t share, we b
oth wanted to learn about. We were both smart kids, curious and excited about everything around us.”
“And the friendship turned into more?”
Shelby nods. I see her blush. “Yes,” she says. “That’s the basis of all good relationships, isn’t it? Julian became my best friend when I was twelve, and he’s still my best friend, to this very day.”
I see the banker nod, his double chin turning into a triple one. He seems satisfied with her response.
But the lawyer keeps questioning Shelby, firing a burst of quick questions like Tennis Coach Tristian launches balls during a lesson.
“What is Julian’s birthday?”
“Fifteenth of August.”
“Favorite food?”
“It’s a tie between three: pizza, bacon, and sugary cereal that makes the milk turn different colors.”
The banker looks at me with disbelief, and Shelby smiles.
“He looks like he lives on kale, doesn’t he? He loves food, but he also loves to work out. He spends two hours in the gym, six days a week.”
We all laugh before the lawyer brings us back to task.
“What is his biggest fear?”
“Commitment,” Shelby says without hesitation. She looks over at me. “Thankfully, he found a way to overcome it. And we make sure to give each other space when we need it.”
“And…” The lawyer leans back in his chair and tilts his glasses down off of his nose. He looks between Shelby and me as he asks his next question. “What do you love about this man, Miss Bright?”
Shelby looks over at me. Her eyes are so big, so beautiful. I don’t look away. I find that I am dying to hear what she has to say.
“I love the way we laugh together,” she says. “I’ve never laughed as much with anyone else as I do with Julian.”
Her tone is full and authentic. She’s either being completely honest, or she deserves to win the highest award out there for her acting abilities.
She continues. “I love his intensity. The way he embraces life, like he’s at a banquet and wants to enjoy everything that’s spread before him on the table. He’s passionate. He gets excited about things. He’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. He’s not afraid to fail. He’s generous. He has faith in life, and that makes him a joy to be around. I have fun with him. And…” Her lips curve into a soft smile. “And he makes me feel beautiful. There’s that, too.”
“Very well. And, Julian,” the lawyer says, peering out at me. “What do you love about Miss Bright?”
Okay. Here we go. I can’t screw this up.
I have the feeling, now, that we’re nearing the end of the interview. Shelby has passed with flying colors. Now, I have to dig deep and make sure to hold up my own end.
A superficial answer won’t cut it here. I have to be honest.
It’s not easy with two sets of beady black eyes on me, peering over the large wooden desk, judging my response. More than that, it’s not easy to have Shelby sitting beside me, waiting for my answer.
I’m not used to putting my feelings into words, but I have to try.
“I love…how it feels when she smiles at me—like I’m contributing to her happiness. That’s a real honor. Shelby is a special person; it didn’t take me long to figure that out, even though we were just kids when we met. She’s not like anyone else I’ve ever met, and if there’s one person that I want to make happy, it’s her.”
I look down at my hands. I feel so vulnerable in this moment, but I make myself keep going.
“I love the way she listens to me. Instead of just thinking about what she’s going to say next, she actually listens. I love her mind, her soul, her body…I love the way we share so many passions, and above all, a passion for life. She’s a good partner—the best one I could ask for. There’s no one else I’d rather be on this adventure with.”
I finish, and the room is silent. You could hear a pin drop. The lawyer, who has been so quick to fill silences with words, now lets the quiet stretch on and on, until it’s uncomfortable.
I look up and see the lawyer packing up his papers.
Is that really it? Is it over?
I had a feeling we were nearing the end, but I didn’t know it was so soon.
Maybe I said something wrong. I was trying to be honest, but maybe those aren’t good enough reasons to love someone. What would I know? I’ve never really been in love, have I?
The banker reaches for the phone on his desk. What is he doing?
I glance at Shelby. Her eyes are misty, like she’s about to cry. Did I do something wrong?
The banker speaks into the phone. “Yes, get the director on the line. Tell him we’re ready for the ring in my office, please.”
Ready for the ring. It takes a moment for the words to hit me.
The banker stands up behind his desk and reaches out his hand. The lawyer stands as well, and then Shelby. I’m the last one on my feet.
The two men shake Shelby’s hand, and then mine.
“Congratulations,” the lawyer says. “You two are quite obviously a genuine couple. More authentic than many already married couples, I might add. Some people get married for the wrong reasons, but you two…” He shakes his head as if in awe.
“Yes, yes,” the banker agrees. “It’s a pleasure to see two young people so deeply in love—gives me hope for future generations.”
“I think we’re done here,” the lawyer says.
“Indeed. We have all of the information we need,” the banker confirms.
I’m still in shock. Our handshakes wrap up, and I feel a goofy smile plastered on my face. Shelby’s smiling as well, and she looks just as stunned as I feel.
Just then, there’s a knock on the office door. A man steps in, crisply dressed in a designer royal blue suit with a red handkerchief poking out of the top pocket.
The elderly banker we’ve been working with steps out from behind the desk to introduce the man. “The head of Van Boor N.V., Mr. Milan Janson. Mr. Janson, this is Mr. Julian Meijer, and Miss Shelby Bright.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Mr. Janson says, looking pointedly at me. He then shares a friendly smile with Shelby. “It has been my honor to protect your family’s valuables for all these years. If you are ever in need of banking services in the future, please do consider Van Boor N.V.”
He produces a steel box and a key and walks to the desk. He sets them down, then opens the box with a twist of the key.
I watch with anticipation as he dips his hands beneath the steel edges of the box. When he removes his hands, he’s holding a wooden jewelry box. This, he also opens. He holds the box up, and Shelby and I move forward.
I let Shelby lean in first, and I hang back slightly. Even from just behind her, I can see the sparkling ruby, surrounded by diamonds that are so bright, they almost look as though they are lit from within.
Mr. Janson reads my cue and hands the ring to Shelby. She holds it carefully, as if it’s made of eggshells.
“What do you think, honey?” I ask, aware that we have to keep playing our parts.
“It’s—it’s—” Shelby is breathless, speechless. She’s turning the ring over in her hands, and each time she does, the light catches on the ruby in a new way, creating unique colors and shades.
“Try it on,” I say.
She slips it onto her ring finger.
My heart is soaring. I feel so happy to have the ring—it means so much to my family. What I wasn’t expecting is how happy I would feel at seeing it on Shelby’s finger.
I step forward and place my arms on Shelby’s shoulders. She looks up at me and I step closer still.
“It looks perfect on you,” I say softly, before leaning down and kissing her. Our kiss is deep, passionate, full of all of the attraction and emotion that I’ve been trying to keep at bay for the past several days.
When we part, I feel almost dizzy with joy. Shelby holds up her hand, and we both look down at the ring.
“It does?” she asks.
For a moment, I completely forget that there are others in the room. All I see is Shelby, looking up at me with a question in her eyes. I know her. I know how she is. She thinks that it’s too flashy, that she doesn’t deserve to wear such an opulent piece of jewelry.
I want her to know how valuable she is. How much she truly deserves.
“Yes,” I say softly, reaching for her hand. “It looks perfect on you. Absolutely perfect.” I turn the ring on her slim finger. “It’s a little big; we’ll need to get it adjusted so that it fits you just right.”
The lawyer gives a dry cough, as if he’s embarrassed to interrupt our moment of intimacy. “There’s a jeweler one block down,” he says. “I’m sure they would be very pleased to work with you.”
At his words, the room comes back into focus. I release Shelby’s hand, but remain close at her side. “Wonderful,” I say. “Now, do we have to sign release papers? How do we make this official?”
Later that night, after Shelby and I drive back from The Hague and I drop her off at her hotel, I can’t stop thinking about our afternoon. Somewhere along the way, I lost my sense of perspective completely. I forgot that it was a game, that we were role playing—it all started to feel so real.
I stretch out over my Egyptian cotton sheets with my hands behind my head, thinking over the hours after we got the ring. It felt so good to introduce Shelby to the jeweler and his staff as my girlfriend, and to explain that we wanted the ring fitted so that it could be her engagement ring. Everyone was so excited for us, so happy. When they looked at us, they saw a happy couple who were deeply in love and about to get married.
For a stretch of time, I’d allowed myself to believe in what they saw. And—this is the puzzling part—I liked it. A lot. I loved it, actually. I was happy.
Am I in love with Shelby?
For once, I ask myself this question without pushing it out of mind within two seconds. I lie there, thinking about all that’s happened over the last week. It’s all happening so fast, and under such bizarre circumstances. We’re pretending to be in a relationship, yet it feels like one is developing at the same time.
