Chapter 15 #2
“Fine,” I sigh, feeling put out. “I’ll let your red flags develop naturally.”
“What about your red flags?”
“I don’t have any.”
“False.” His expression is serious. “You claim you hate my dog. That’s the biggest red flag of all.”
“Harvey? He slobbers all over everything. It’s disgusting.”
“He’s man’s best friend.”
“No, he’s your best friend.”
“You know, you could use a few friends in your life.”
“Are you implying that I don’t have any friends?” I scoff.
“You work a lot.”
“Just because I work a lot doesn’t mean I don’t have time for friends.”
“Okay.” He shrugs as if he doesn’t quite believe me.
“I have friends. Good friends.” I sit up taller. “I grew up with them, and we’ve stayed close over the years. We even get together once a month for dinner just to catch up. Remember last week? I was out with them when I came home late.”
“So tell me about them.”
“Why, because you don’t believe me?”
“I’m just trying to get to know you better, remember?”
I push back, feeling like we’re getting too personal for my liking. “Why do I feel like you’re collecting information to make a slide show presentation about me?”
“There will definitely be a slide show, but the presentation will be about me, not you. I’ll forward it to you tonight.” He motions for me to continue. “So your friends…”
I shake my head.
“I don’t know why you’re being weird about this. We’re supposed to get to know each other so we have something to tell the counselor next month.”
He’s right. But opening myself up to a man has always felt wrong, vulnerable. Every time my mom got too personal or too deep with a man, he ran for the hills. Men like the idea of knowing women on a personal level, but not the reality of it.
But this wouldn’t be opening up to a man. It would be completing homework. If I frame it that way, maybe it will make things easier.
“Well, there’s Carly,” I start. “She plans incentive trips for companies, kind of like a travel agent. In fact, she just started seriously dating her co-worker. I think they’re kind of perfect for each other.”
“So you do believe in love after all?”
I laugh, despite being annoyed by him. “For some people…when it’s right.”
“Who else?”
His obvious interest relaxes me enough to keep going. “Then there’s Blair. She’s tough as nails and oddly good at everything. I don’t really know what she does for a living, just that she travels a lot. Next is Juliet. She just got engaged to Vinny.”
“And did you try to convince her not to get married like you did with Selena?”
“No, Juliet is on her own. Besides, she’d never listen to me. She’s the least self-aware person I know. She’s unwilling to admit that she and Vinny are a terrible match. And that’s not the divorce attorney in me talking. That’s coming from Camila, the friend.”
“Why are they a terrible match?”
“It’s hard to explain. Juliet kind of controls him and dismisses his feelings.”
“So why does this Vinny guy want to marry her?”
“Because it’s easy and comfortable. They’ve been together since they were fifteen or sixteen. And every time they break up, they both just end up coming back. Their marriage won’t last, which might be good for Emma.”
“Who’s Emma?”
A small smile paints my lips. “Emma is the last of my friends—the best of us, really. She’s sweet and optimistic and doesn’t like contention or rocking the boat. That’s why she doesn’t admit that she’s in love with Vinny.”
“Wait.” He holds up his palm like a stop sign. “Vinny? The guy who’s engaged to your other friend, Juliet?”
“Yeah. Emma has been in love with him since junior high. I mean, she doesn’t tell anyone that, but we all know. I guess, maybe Juliet and Vinny don’t know. But the rest of us have a front-row view of her heartache. It’s tragic.”
“Wow, that’s quite the love triangle.”
“Messy, right?”
“I need to know how it ends.”
“Don’t we all.”
“So when do I get to meet these friends?”
“You don’t.”
“Never?”
“They don’t know about you, and I plan to keep it that way.”
“I thought you said these were your best friends.”
“They are.”
“Then why haven’t you told them about me? About us?”
“I told you, everyone is on a need-to-know basis, and so far, no one needs to know.”
He rolls his eyes, relenting. “And what about your family? It’s just you, and Selena, and your mom, right?”
My chest locks. I don’t talk about my family with other people.
Never have.
Never will.
“Actually, I have a lot of work to do.” I start gathering my things. “I'd better get going.”
“It’s seven p.m.”
“Yes, the night is young. Plenty of time to put in a few good work hours at home.” I scoot out of the booth and stand. “But this was a helpful homework session. Now we know a few things about each other we can tell the counselor next time.”
“So you’re leaving?” He seems genuinely disappointed, and it’s cute—so cute that I need to leave immediately.
“Yep.” I’m already halfway to the door.
Things were getting too personal.
I like surface. I’m good at surface.
Anything beyond that isn’t in my wheelhouse.
That night, as I wash my face, a text comes through.
Hess
The promised slide presentation.
The text is followed by a PDF attachment. I click on it, feeling a grin spread across my lips. The link opens up a Google Slides file with the title in bold black letters: Get to Know Your Cowboy.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I laugh, jumping on my bed like I’m sliding into home plate.
The first slide has a picture of Hess when he was maybe two or three.
He’s wearing a tan vest with fringe and matching chaps, holding a fake cap gun.
Everything about the toddler version of him is adorable.
Introduction is typed across the top in bold letters with three bullet points.
I read through the bullet points one by one.
Harrison Taylor: nicknamed Hess because my older sister couldn’t say my full name when I was born, and it stuck
Twenty-eight years old and newly single (if you don’t count our marriage as part of my status)
Owner of Step and Spray
I click to the next slide, eager to read more. Family is the title of this one, accompanied by a picture. I zoom in on Hess. He’s in a cowboy hat, and it’s as good as I imagined, hair curling out the sides and back with a charming smile on his face.
“Whew!” I sigh, forcing myself to move on to the bullet points.
Parents: Bart and Anita Taylor. Traditional, church-on-Sundays, meat-and-potatoes kind of people
Youngest of five children: Dane, Rhett, Noah, Ashley, and Harrison
Favorite uncle to eleven nieces and nephews
Slide three is titled Things I Like. On the left of the page is a picture of him shirtless with a painted red face and chest with a gold A on top. I zoom in on this one too. Unfortunately, the body paint doesn’t give me a clear picture of his abs.
Riding horses at sunrise or sunset
And now all I can think about is riding off into the sunset with him, preferably on one horse with his arms around my body to hold the reins.
Country swing dancing
Dang, there’s another version of the fantasy. Hess swinging me in and out, throwing me around his body with ease. I could get behind that.
Arizona Sun Devil football
Playing with my nieces and nephews
Playing horseshoes
I laugh, already clicking to the next slide called Quirks That You Might Call Icks or Red Flags. There’s a selfie of him with one of his horses.
Owns a lot of pairs of dirty work gloves
Sings off-key but does it anyway
Talks to my horses like they're people and expects them to answer
Cuddles with Harvey in the middle of the night
Very heavy sleeper
For some reason, none of what Hess listed turns me off. Instead, it makes him seem relatable and endearing.
Fun Facts is written at the top of the next slide with a stock photo of Blue Bell ice cream.
Broke my arm falling out of a hayloft at age ten
Thinks ice cream is its own food group
Never learned how to skip properly
Believes cowboy hats should come with a warning label: dangerously attractive
“Tell me about it,” I mutter.
I flip to the last slide and straighten when I see the title Things I’d Love to Know About My Wife. The playful feeling in my chest morphs into something tight as I read through the list.
Your family
If you couldn’t be a lawyer, what would you be instead?
What you do for fun
Quirks
The secret behind your obsession with cowboys
That’s one piece of information I’ll never tell. You couldn’t waterboard it out of me.
I tap on my phone, trying to decide how I want to respond. I flip open messages and type something out—something that downplays how much I loved this little gesture.
Camila
I can’t decide what’s worse: that you made this or that it actually has pictures in it.
Hess
You’re welcome. Can’t wait for your slide show presentation.
I fall back on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling.
Why is Hess’s Google Slides presentation the cutest thing a man has ever sent me?