“I love you,” Noah says in a whisper to Amelia after the kiss, but I’m sitting close enough to hear it.
I smile down at my lap because I adore Amelia and Noah’s relationship. I think it must be similar to what my parents had. Sturdy, deep, and dependable. And they sure look at each other with hearts in their eyes just like I’ve seen in all the photos of my parents. It’s the kind of love that just works and makes everyone around them envious. It’s what I want. The superglue-sticky, not-going-anywhere, till-death-do-us-part relationship. Someone to step up beside me and lend me his hand where we’ll walk happily together through life.
Noah eventually leaves, and Amelia’s cheeks are completely pink as we watch my personal favorite out of all of Audrey Hepburn’s films, Funny Face. I deeply relate to Jo—the character Audrey plays. Jo works in a bookstore (which would be my dream job if I didn’t already have a dream job owning my own flower shop), and she is considered quiet and introspective, maybe even a little plain.
But in the movie, Dick Avery (who is played by Fred Astaire), a famous fashion magazine photographer, spots Jo and sees something in her that isn’t plain or quiet at all. Together, he and Maggie Prescott, the editor of Quality magazine, sweep Jo off to Paris, where they pull her out of her shell, turning her into a model and teaching her how to dress and pose and carry herself like a woman of Quality. Of course, in the end, Jo and Dick fall madly in love and live happily ever after—ending like every good story should.
“See,” I say with a big sigh as I point to the TV after the final scene of Audrey and Fred dancing to the song “?’S Wonderful.” “That’s what I need.”
Maddie and Emily are in the kitchen and out of earshot.
“An old man to fall in love with you?” asks Amelia with a chuckle.
I gasp. “Don’t you dare slander the great Fred Astaire and the hero of my favorite movie.”
Amelia grimaces and leans forward to grab another handful of popcorn from the coffee table. “Normally, I wouldn’t say a word against an Audrey movie. But even I have to admit the pairing is odd here. Audrey was in her twenties and Fred was definitely in his fifties.”
“Oh. Deflating,” I say staring at the screen again.
“So anyway, why do you want a major age-gap love affair, Anna-banana?”
I pull my legs up onto the couch and wrap my arms around them. “I don’t want an age-gap love affair. I just want a love affair in general. So I’m saying I wish I could have someone like Dick Avery or Maggie Prescott swoop in and teach me how to be the Quality woman everyone wants to date. Or at least I want my dates to not say I’m boring and then have their friends call and make up excuses to leave.”
“What?!” says Amelia a little too loudly.
“Shh!” I hiss, looking over my shoulder to where my sisters are busy cooking something in the kitchen. Actually, Madison is cooking, and Emily is hovering around her and badgering her with itinerary questions for their upcoming trip to Mexico for a vacation with a few of their other teacher friends. They’ve been saving for a year to afford it.
“Is that what happened tonight?” Amelia asks me in a whisper this time.
“Yes.” I rub my hands up and down my shins. “But don’t blame him—”
“I do.”
“I was a terrible date. I barely talked and then when I did, I sprung marriage on the poor guy. And then even after all of that, Will made him pay for the drinks even though I dumped John’s in his lap. It was a disaster.”
Amelia sits forward abruptly. “Wait, wait, wait. Go back. Did you say Will?”
I nod. “Yeah, Will. You know? Will Griffin.”
“Will Griffin, as in my bodyguard Will Griffin? He was on your date?”
“No.” I pause. “I mean, yes. Your bodyguard was at the restaurant where I was having the worst date of my life, but he appeared to be on a very successful date of his own.”
“But he hung out with you?”
I raise a shoulder. “Well, sort of. He came over and said hi, but that was right in the thick of John getting the heck out of Dodge, so then Will walked me out to the truck and we talked.”
“You talked. To Will?”
“Why do you keep repeating my statements and forming them as a question?”
“I’m just trying to picture it.” She circles her hands in the air like she’s trying to conjure up an instant replay. “He’s always so businessy with me. I practically have to pry friendship from him, and here he is just strolling right up to you and chatting.”
I frown and take another bite of popcorn. “It was only for like five minutes tops. Not a big deal,” I say, completely disregarding the slightly too alert look in Amelia’s eyes. Maybe she thinks I have a thing for Will and is worried I’m going to try to date him? Ha! A hilarious thought. “Anyway, he went back into the restaurant pretty quickly and said he’s staying the night with the woman he was on a date with and that he’ll be in Rome tomorrow.” I nudge her knee. “I didn’t know you had hired him to come back, by the way. Are you having safety issues?”
“Not really. A few paparazzi have been getting too close lately, but I haven’t felt worried. They’re just hungry for wedding details. Keysha is the one who thought it was time to call in a mobile guard until things settle down again after the wedding.”
Keysha is Amelia’s manager. She hired her a year ago after finding out her old manager had been doing some shady business behind her back. I think Keysha has been really good for Amelia—as is Claire, the personal assistant Amelia hired to help her life run a little smoother.
“But you’re wrong,” says Amelia abruptly. “Will isn’t coming tomorrow. He’s here now.”
Wait, what? I try not to look too excited at that prospect and mentally intimidate my cheeks into not blushing at just the mention of his name. “But he told me he was staying with Gretchen tonight.”
Amelia looks like she’s studying me for answers before a big test—expecting to find them written all over my skin in red ink. “Interesting. All I know is about thirty minutes ago, Harold, the night shift guard, texted me and said that Will had arrived at the surveillance trailer and got his emergency satellite phone”—which they keep on hand because service is spotty around here—“and then went on to Mabel’s Inn for the night and would be ready to start at eight a.m. tomorrow. So he must have decided to cut his date short.”
Amelia is in the process of having an actual guard shack built on their premises, but it won’t be ready for at least another month or two. Until then, her security team always stays down the road at Mabel’s Inn.
Also, I will choose to not read anything into the fact that Will didn’t stay the night at Gretchen’s place.
I. Will. Not!
Do you hear that, you romantic schmuck of a heart? There’s absolutely no way Will coming to Rome a night early has anything to do with me and our meetup earlier tonight. For all I know, they hooked up super fast and he left. End of story.
“What are y’all talking about?” Maddie asks, popping her head over the back of the couch.
Without looking the slightest bit suspicious, Amelia says, “My bodyguard—Will Griffin. I was just telling Annie that he’s going to be back in town and sticking with me until after the wedding.”
Maddie’s eyes light up and, for some reason, it makes my fingers twitchy.
Emily rounds the corner and sits back down in the armchair. “Wait, who?”
“The hottest bodyguard in the country,” says Maddie, also coming to take a seat in the living room.
“Oooh, Will Griffin?”
Again, I don’t love that she immediately knew who Maddie was talking about. But I’m not sure why I care. It’s not like I have hopes where he’s involved. And, honestly, my outgoing, gorgeous sisters have way more of a chance with him than I do. Oh, and you know, the most important part: I want a stable relationship. Will in no way equals stable.