Ten Days To Say I Do

Chapter 2

Elena hadn't slept. She spent most of the night staring at the ceiling and the rest of it googling how long a fake engagement has to last, which was a mistake, because every result was a wedding blog.

By eight-thirty she was at the shop with her third coffee, dusting shelves that were already clean. The Lantern always smelled like paper and old wood, and it usually calmed her down. Today it just reminded her how much she stood to lose.

Her phone buzzed. Priya, from work.

Did you hear? New CEO starts next week. Nobody's even seen a photo of him. I say old and grumpy. Ten bucks.

Elena typed Can't talk, family stuff and turned the phone face down. She had bigger problems than the new boss.

At nine exactly, the bell over the door rang.

Jay stood there holding two paper cups. No hoodie today, just a white shirt and dark pants. He looked nicer than he had at the bus stop, which annoyed her for no good reason.

"Coffee," he said. "I didn't know how you take it, so I guessed black."

"I already have coffee."

"Then now you have two."

She took it anyway.

He walked around the shop slowly, reading spines, running a finger along the edge of a shelf. When he got to the stool by the register, he stopped. It was low and scratched, and the paint had worn off the top.

"Weird place for a stool."

"My grandfather bought it when I was five. I couldn't reach the counter." Elena looked away. "Anyway. I made a list."

She pulled a notebook out from under the register. Jay raised an eyebrow at the three pages of writing.

"Rule one," she said. "We met three months ago. Here. You came in looking for a book."

"What book?"

She thought about it. "A cookbook."

"Why?"

"Because you can't cook."

"That's fair, I can't." He took a sip. "Go on."

"Rule two, no kissing."

"Understood."

"No touching unless Victor's looking."

"Define looking."

"Jay."

"I'm asking so I don't get it wrong."

She glared, and he looked so serious about it that she nearly laughed. Nearly. She turned a page instead. "What do you do for a living? If someone asks."

"Consulting."

"What kind?"

"The boring kind."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the one I've got." He said it nicely, but he didn't add anything, and she noticed. She let it go. She'd hired him off a bench in the rain. She wasn't in a position to be picky.

They spent the next hour building a story. How they met was easy. How he proposed was a disaster. Elena wanted something small and quiet. Jay said nobody believes a quiet proposal, and that he'd never do one at a restaurant, because people clap and it's awful. They argued about it for ten whole minutes, and she was a little shocked to realize she was enjoying herself.

Then the bell rang again.

Victor walked in with his mother behind him. Aunt Diane was in a pink coat and a cloud of perfume, and she was already smiling the way she smiled when she wanted information.

"Elena, honey!" Diane said. "Victor told us the most extraordinary thing. You're engaged?"

Elena's mouth went dry. "Aunt Diane. Hi."

"And you never said a word!"

"It was private," Elena managed. "With Grandpa being sick."

"Three months," Victor said. He hadn't taken his eyes off Jay. "That's what my mother heard, anyway. Three months, and you never once brought him up. Not at the funeral. Not at the reading."

Before Elena could answer, an arm slid around her waist. Jay did it so easily that she stiffened, then remembered she was supposed to like it.

"That's my fault," Jay said. "I asked her to keep it quiet until we were sure."

"Sure of what?" Victor asked.

"Each other."

Diane pressed a hand to her chest. "Oh, that's lovely."

Victor didn't say it was lovely. He looked Jay up and down, slowly, the way you'd look at a used car. "And what do you do, Jay?"

"Consulting."

"Consulting what?"

"Whatever people are paying for that week." Jay smiled. It didn't reach anywhere near his eyes, but it was a very good smile. "It's not as exciting as it sounds."

Victor let the silence sit. Elena could feel Jay's hand steady against her side, warm through her sweater, and she had to remind herself to breathe.

"Well," Diane said brightly, "we simply must have you both for dinner. Tonight. Seven o'clock, at my place. I'll make the roast."

"Tonight?" Elena said.

"We'd love to," Jay said at the same time.

She turned to stare at him. He didn't blink.

"And bring the ring," Diane added, patting Elena's cheek. "I'm dying to see it."

Elena had no ring.

Victor smiled at her, slow and patient. "Seven o'clock. Don't be late, cousin."

The door swung shut behind them. The bell was still ringing when Elena stepped out of Jay's arm and put a hand over her face.

"We don't have a ring," she said. "We don't have a story for how you proposed. We've known each other for sixteen hours, and I don't even know your last name."

"I'll handle the ring."

"With what? You're a boring consultant."

"I said I'd handle it." He said it calmly, like it was nothing, and turned to pick up his cup off the counter.

His phone was lying next to it, screen up. It lit as she looked, and she couldn't help reading it.

14 missed calls. Marcus.

Then it lit again. 15.

Jay picked it up and put it in his pocket without a glance, like it wasn't even ringing.

Elena stood there, her heart doing something unhelpful.

What kind of man with no last name and a boring job gets fifteen missed calls before ten in the morning?