***
“Breakfast in bed, m’lady.”
I brushed the hair out of my eyes and tried to work out where I was. I had that weird slightly jet-lagged sense of disorientation. I looked through my bleary eyes up at Aaron’s smiling face.
He was holding a tray. I could smell coffee and eggs and, good heavens, bacon. I pushed myself up in bed and he unfolded the trays legs then balanced it across my lap. There was a bud vase holding a single red rose in the corner. It was, tragically, given the giver, the single most romantic moment of my life.
“This is awesome.”
“I figured since you’ve made me a few meals now and I haven’t done anything for you.”
“You’re marrying me,” I whispered. “That’s more than enough. But this is still awesome. Are you going to sit with me?”
“Be right back.”
He returned with his own cup of coffee. “I already ate while I was cooking. I brought the papers, too, in case you’re interested.”
And so it was that we sat up in his big bed, reading bits of the paper and eating breakfast just like an old married couple, and I had to admit it was nice. Until his mother stuck her head through the doorway.
“Isn’t this cozy?”
She looked like she was off to meet the Queen so dolled up was she. It was quite the contrast to my own unglamorous appearance.
“It is. Very.” Aaron raised his coffee cup. “So you’re off then, Mom?”
“Yes.” She was giving me the stink eye. “I’ll be back this evening.”
“Have a good day.” He didn’t get up or even move, just sipped his coffee.
She turned on her heel and clacked down the stairs. It wasn’t a happy walk. Oh well, if only one of us could be happy, I was all right with it being me.
At two o’clock, Aaron decided we had to get up.
“Can’t we stay here all day?”
“Seriously, this is your idea of a perfect Sunday?”
“Well, yeah. Big bed, the papers, good company. Not yours?”
“It would be perfect if you only threw in some sex.”
I swatted him with the comics section.
“I know you find me repulsive. You’ve made that abundantly clear.” He said.
“I don’t… I never said that.”
“Well, if we’re not having sex, we need to get out of this bed, my self-restraint is running low.”
My hair was askew and I was in a big t-shirt. I waved my hands like a game show hostess to highlight my many attractive features and chuckled. “This is very alluring; I can see why you’d be struggling to resist”
Then I hopped out of bed and headed for the shower.
“I’ll be thinking about you in there.” He called from behind me.
I would be thinking about him, too, but I didn’t share that fact.
An hour later, we were walking across Boston Common. Aaron decided we should talk about our wedding. He had a plan to book us flights to Vegas the following Friday so that we could do the deed.
“You just focus on your big business deal this week and I’ll plan the best elopement ever.”
“You’re such a girl,” I teased.
“I know. I’ve been dreaming of this day my whole life.” He batted his pretty eyes at me. Then he paused. “Well, maybe you have. Is there anything you especially want at our wedding?”
“That’s very sweet. It’s not a real wedding. I mean, I know it’s real but, it’s not real.”
His face went sort of strange looking. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be nice.”
We were marrying in Vegas so I considered what that meant.
“True. So, no Elvis please. If you don’t mind.”
“Got it.”
“And my favorite flowers are daisies.”
“Daisies. Okey dokey.”
“And I really don’t like buffets so if we could not have a buffet for our wedding meal, that would be fabulous.”
“You think I’d take you to a buffet for our wedding feast?” He looked incredulous.
“Vegas is famous for its buffets,” I pointed out.
“Do I look in any way like a buffet guy to you who would take his bride to a buffet?”
He looked like a guy who would find the most expensive restaurant in town to take her. Or maybe a guy who’d have a fancy meal delivered to the suite. A meal that came on trays wheeled in by men in tuxedos who stood there while a string quartet played and then lifted the cloches in unison. He looked exactly like the sort of guy who really wouldn’t be marrying me because my guy probably would take me to a buffet.
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Okay, no Elvis, no buffet and some daisies for my bride then.” He slung his arm around my shoulder. “And maybe a few surprises.”
This whole experience had been nothing but surprising, I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. I hardly recognized my life after a week with this guy, what would it be like in a year?
I managed to make it home Sunday night without seeing my future mother-in-law again. Apparently, she was leaving Monday night. I had so much to do to be ready for my meeting with the investors on Tuesday that there was no way would I be seeing her again this trip.
“She hasn’t visited for over a year. With a bit of luck, your paths won’t cross again,” Aaron said.
I wasn’t sure how to take that. Was he ashamed of me? Had his mother’s disapproval reminded him that I was, indeed, not marriage material?
As he piled me into a cab to go home, he gave me a searching look and squeezed my hand I was sure he had something to say but what?
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yes. Absolutely. Never better. I’ll call you tomorrow. Focus on the tour and the business deal. You’ll knock their socks off.”
“It’ll be fine. It’s the last hurdle. If I can leap over it, then I’m golden.”
“Go make like a gazelle, then, and leap.” He kissed my forehead and closed the taxi door . He gave the roof two taps.
Giddy-up, I thought. Here we go.
Any Way You Slice It Page 11