Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I shrug a shoulder. “I … I love how excited you are to marry me. I love that you’re so sure about what you want … I just … I feel like we’re rushing things.”
“Babe.” He exhales, smiles, and places a hand on my shoulder. “Tell me what you’re worried about and then let me quash those concerns for you. I love you, Brie. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”
“What’s my favorite movie?”
“What?” He half-laughs.
“What’s my favorite movie?”
Grant’s brows intersect. “I don’t see how that’s relevant to this particular discussion, but okay. Um … your favorite movie is Die Hard.”
“Grant.”
He smirks. “I’m kidding. It’s Splendor in the Grass.”
“Okay. What’s my favorite book?”
“The Bluest Eye,” he answers without hesitation. “Your favorite color is indigo. Your favorite day of the week is Sunday. Your favorite lipstick is called Crimson Crush. You’re a Gemini. Fittingly. And your favorite childhood vacation was when your grandparents took you and Kari to Mackinac Island for a week, just the four of you. Next question …”
“You proved your point,” I say. “I just … don’t you want to get to know each other at least a little more before we make it official? I’ve only met your parents once.”
“And wasn’t once enough?” He winks.
“Stop.” I swat at him. “Your parents are wonderful.”
And they are. His father tells the corniest jokes and complains about how expensive everything is, and his mother carries a knitting bag with her everywhere she goes, working on blankets she sells on Etsy and donates to local church fundraisers.
They’re wholesome, perfectly imperfect.
And they love their son more than all the stars in the sky.
“Look,” he says. “I get that you’re scared. You’re an intelligent, self-made woman. You’re independent. You don’t need me, and I love that about you. Brie … for the first time in my life, I feel like I’ve met my match. If I made a list of all the things I wanted in an ideal partner, it would describe you right down to the way you laugh in your sleep and the to-die-for omelets you make on Sunday mornings. Your family? They’re amazing. I know your sisters can be a little much sometimes, but your mom is like this … glam hippie. And your dad is this badass businessman that encompasses all the things I want to be as a father someday. God willing. Your family is the loud, crazy, thick-as-thieves family I never had. And if I can’t have you, can’t have this … I don’t want it at all.”
“Grant …”
“Now, I know I just rambled on about all the things I’m getting out of this.” He takes my hands in his and turns me to face him. “So let me tell you all the reasons I’m going to make this the best decision you’ll ever make in your life …”
My phone chimes from the kitchen, where it’s been resting on the charger for the better part of the night.
“I’m so sorry,” I cut him off. “It’s probably work. I’ll be right back …”
Ordinarily I wouldn’t take a work call in the middle of a heartfelt speech given by my soon-to-be-husband, but my company is in the process of hiring a temporary CEO after the board voted out the last one unexpectedly earlier this week, and I’ve been tasked with leading the hiring committee.
I trot down the hall and jerk my phone off the charger just in time to catch the call before it goes to voicemail. “Hello?”
“Miss White? This is Barb at Fairway Recruiting. You have a moment?” the woman asks.
“Of course.”
“I found you two highly competitive contenders. Both interested. Both highly qualified. Neither of which are able to fly to Phoenix in the next week. Conveniently, they’re both located in New York. I know you have a satellite office out there. I could have them come in and interview with someone on location there or you could do a Skype interview … let me know what you prefer.”
“Actually, I’m headed east next week. I could fit in a couple of interviews while I’m there.” I swipe a pen off the counter as well as an envelope from a nearby pile of mail and flip it over. “What are their names?”
So I can Google them …
“Lucinda Meyers and Robert Goldberg. I’ll send you everything in an email,” she says.
“Great. Thank you, Barb.” I place the pen aside and return the envelope to the stack of mail, only something catches my eye—an unfolded contract on DuVall, James, and Renato PC letterhead.
Grant—
This is our boilerplate prenup. I took liberties and added in a few fitting clauses based on what we’d talked about. If everything looks good, give me a call and we’ll finish the rest. I’ll need your future wife’s identifying information at that time as well.
See you next month.