Page 76 of Proposal Play
“God no,” she says, frowning. “But I was in a bookstore the other day and overheard some of the employees talking about words they don’t love in romance novels. One of those words was ‘folds,’ which then turned into a conversation about different sizes of folds, which then turned into a conversation about labia, which then turned into a discussion on how nobody should discuss labia so I thought I should pass it on.”
“I am shooketh,” I say.
She nods in solidarity. “I am also shooketh.”
“And yet you still said labia.”
“That is how much of a good friend I am to you. I don’t want you to run into the fold problem. So I’m passing on the tip.”
I let my gaze turn skyward. “How on earth am I going to make it through dinner now without saying folds orlabia?” I narrow my eyes and look at my friend. “Thanks, Everly. Thanks a lot.”
She smiles. Serenely. “You are welcome.”
“You are not helpful,” I say, wagging a finger as a text from Asher pops up on my phone, letting me know he’s here.
“Oh, but I think you’ll find I really am,” she says. “I guarantee you won’t say labia.”
“Stop. Just stop speaking,” I say, then I give my friend a hug and head downstairs to meet my husband.
Husband.
Such a strange thought. But I glance at my ruby ring, and something feels a little fizzy in my chest. I head outside and find Asher waiting on the steps, looking mouth-wateringly hot in tailored charcoal slacks and a purple dress shirt that shows off his firm chest and strong biceps.
I stop in my tracks for a second. His eyes widen. “Wow,” he says, right as I say, “You clean up well.”
We both laugh, a little awkwardly. Is this how newlyweds behave? I don’t know. They’re probably used to compliments. I back up and try again.
“You look great,” I say.
“And you’re stunning,” he says, then holds my gaze for a long, weighty beat that makes my pulse skitter. “Should we go?”
“Right. Yes. We should.”
He walks me to his car at the curb, his hand on the small of my back the whole way.
And the whole way to dinner, I’m thinking of his hands on me, and his lips, and how he kissed me the other day by the Golden Gate Bridge.
Well, that’s a better thing to think about than folds.
Asher and I step into the restaurant’s private dining room, greeted by a long, elegantly set table filled with flickering candlelight and soft conversation. The board members of Total Teamwork are already seated, with Soraya at the head of the table, her usual poised and warm smile in place.
“Mr. and Mrs. Callahan, right on time,” she says, standing to greet us. “Glad you could make it.”
I flash a smile, hoping it hides my nerves. How do actors do this acting thing? “Wouldn’t miss it,” I say, hoping that sounds likewife-speak.
Soraya introduces us to the rest of the board members, who nod in greeting. There’s Terrence, the retired football coach with a booming laugh; Lydia, sharp and no-nonsense, known for her commitment to charity; and Marcus, a laid-back sports psychologist. My brother, Beckett, and his wife, Reina, are also here along with Soraya’s partner, Aram.
We take our seats, and the conversation flows easily—sports, the upcoming family picnic in the park, anecdotes about the others’ work with kids. Soraya pipes up, saying they need to push the picnic out by a few more weeks due to a scheduling conflict with the park. “No problem,” Asher says. “I don’t have a game that day, so the new date works just fine.” He turns to me. “And you?”
I’m flattered to even be asked, but yes, of course it works for me. He’s staying married to me for the mural job, which will go for at least a couple more weeks after that so that’s all good.
The conversation shifts to tales of past glory and present. Asher’s in his element, flashing that easy charmof his. But it’s more than charm—there’s real passion behind it, and watching and listening to their conversation eases my mind.
After we order, my pulse settles more.
I’ve got this. I know the marriage script we wrote the other day. We’ve been friends for years, made a marriage pact for fun at my brother’s wedding, and once we were in Vegas, we just knew it was what we wanted—getting hitched.
I’m ready for their relationship questions if they ask them, and just as appetizers arrive, Terrence leans forward with a grin as if on cue. “So, newlyweds, huh? Have you planned your honeymoon yet? Or are you two still in work mode?”