Chapter 6 #2
“Yes, obviously.” She rolled her eyes and laughed. “But why? We didn’t talk about exchanging gifts tonight.”
“It’s not an exchange. You’ll understand after you open them.”
Jordan had reserved what he thought was the best table in the restaurant—a small private alcove that overlooked the bay.
They slid in on opposite sides of the brown leather booth, meeting in the center, and her irresistible perfume swirled around him as she took in the view.
The setting sun turned everything a brilliant shade of orange.
Sailboats gently coasted on the waves. Seagulls soared overhead as the incoming tide overtook the rocky shore.
She sighed. “And to think, I almost suggested my favorite taco truck.”
“I love tacos. That would’ve been great.”
“Yeah, but this is better.” They shared a smiling moment as the server approached their table. Jordan literally had to force himself to stop looking at her—quietly clearing his throat and flexing his hands.
“Hello, my name is Brett and I’ll be your server this evening. Before I take your drink order, would you like to hear about the day’s specials?”
“You know what? I would. Tell me everything.” She beamed a friendly smile at him, whole face lighting up with interest.
Brett began his spiel…and went suspiciously into enthusiastic detail every time she asked a follow-up question.
Hmm. As far as Jordan knew, she wasn’t a foodie. He moved closer, pretending to read the menu over her shoulder—and didn’t miss the way Brett’s gaze covertly, dismissively, slid to him.
“Do you know what you’re going to get?” she asked Jordan.
“Not yet.” He kept his voice low and just for her. “Help me choose?”
She turned to the waiter. “Sorry, we need more time.”
“Of course.” He smiled unmistakably, and only, at Zinnia. “I’ll be back to check on you soon.”
Jordan quietly scoffed. Most customer service workers were overly nice because it was their job. That wasn’t the case with Brett, just like it hadn’t been with Spark at Tantivy.
“So, what are you in the mood for? I looked up the menu online. It’s pretty safe to say I mostly have it memorized, but their specials change every day.
” She glanced at him. “Sometimes Fiona gets anxious when we try new restaurants. This is how I help her feel as comfortable as possible. It’s a habit now, I guess. ”
“I was worried they wouldn’t let you meet with me again. Actually, I fully expected them to be here too.”
She laughed nervously. “It’s fine. They’ll come around—it’s just a lot to take in. Everything is fine.”
Ah, the bad news. He didn’t have their blessing. “What about your parents? Do they know?”
“I told them I was a finalist to join a reality TV show, just not which one. My parents can be trusted but my mom might tell my grandma, who will tell the church. Also”—she paused, scrunching her face—“I’d originally planned to wait a year.
I wanted to make sure my marriage was solid before I let my spouse meet them. ”
His eyebrows shot up. “Oh. That’s…a long time. But if it’s really important to you—”
“It is.”
“Okay. I can’t promise a year, though. There’s always the chance someone could spoil or leak something and once the season trailer drops, that’s it. Secret’s out because you’ll definitely be in it.”
“Right.” She nodded, suddenly looking a little nervous. “When it’s trailer time, I’ll be ready. We’ll be ready.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Negotiating with Zinnia felt like standing on a dock, ready to board and sail off into the sunset together. No expectations for anything more than what was agreed upon. He almost couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten.
Zinnia
Fiona and Grace weren’t outliers. Her parents would’ve tried to stop her from marrying Jordan so soon too. They’d sit in the family room, her mom’s concerned scowl balanced by her dad’s weighty pout.
“She has to live her life, honey,” she’d say.
“Not like this! Encourage her about something else!” he’d shout.
Zinnia had really put her family through it growing up, but they never failed to give her what she needed. She’d turned out fine, free spirit and confidence intact, thanks to them.
Jordan wouldn’t even be allowed to see their pictures until she wholeheartedly trusted him. He finally stopped pretending to look at her menu and used his own.
“What sounds good?” she asked again. “What do you want?”
“You.”
“Stop making that joke.” She laughed anyway.
“Stop setting me up for the punch line. And I’m not joking.”
Yeah, that was the problem. She couldn’t tell if he was flirting with her or at her. Maybe it just came naturally to him, and he didn’t know how to turn it off.
“Will you please pick something before he comes back?” she asked.
“Are you in a rush to be somewhere else?”
“I don’t want to waste his time.”
Jordan smirked. “He’d stand here all night if you asked him to.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I agree with you. I don’t want him to waste his time either.”
Brett returned a few minutes later and took their orders before dashing off again. Zinnia held up her gift and asked, “Can I open this now?”
He nodded and placed his elbow on the back of the booth, propping his head up with his fist.
The card inside the envelope was thick and had writing on one side.
“ ‘Dearest Zinnia,’ ” she read aloud, “ ‘Save the Redwoods League thanks you for your generous donation. Two dozen redwood trees will be planted in your name through our reforestation program…’ ” She stared at him, wide-eyed with her mouth hanging open in shock.
“Keep going.”
There was more: twenty-four trees and an entire restoration grove. She was nearly speechless.
“I thought you might prefer redwoods over roses on the occasion of our potential marriage-merger.”
“I do. I mean, thank you.” She read the card again. “Oh my god.”
He chuckled, rightfully pleased with himself. “Open the box.”
Her second gift was a rose gold tennis bracelet. She watched his face as he focused on securing it around her bare wrist, fingers brushing against her skin.
“I loved the story behind your heirloom lucky bracelets.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “I know it’s not the same, but I thought this could be the start of our first tradition. Something old made new.”
Her soul was full-on about to abandon her body. Poof. Gone. Never to be seen again.
“I don’t know what to say.” She looked away from him, only to become transfixed by the delicate bracelet sparkling in the low light. “I love it. Both gifts. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I feel terrible for not getting you anything.”
“That’s not how gifts work. I bought them because I wanted to.”
The specter of their unfinished business loomed over their entire meal. Lulls in their conversation led to exchanging knowing looks before one of them rushed to fill the space with anything else. But they were running out of time.
While Fiona had come around somewhat, Grace had refused to budge.
That didn’t stop her from emailing a list of negotiation points for the Zaffre Hours contract, including paid security during and after Zinnia’s time on the show and strict usage limits on the Find Your Zin brand.
Zaffre Hours and all associated entities would hold no rights whatsoever.
They also couldn’t force Zinnia to include it on air.
Sadie had personally emailed a revised contract accepting all of Grace’s terms within an hour.
Zinnia’s lawyer had also advised the prenuptial agreement was ready to go because Jordan had paid expedited fees to both law offices.
California law required they wait seven days before signing—which fit Jordan’s timeline so perfectly, it actually made her a little suspicious.
Not to mention that a contract and prenup couldn’t cover the inner workings of the marriage itself. There wasn’t a line item that could legally ensure she’d have her own room.
Zinnia’s nerves were eating her alive. Just gnawing her down to the white meat. She expected to have open communication in their marriage, so she might as well start now.
“I have an idea,” she said, pushing her half-eaten dessert to the side. “What if we came up with some more clauses together?”
“Together,” Jordan echoed. He basically hadn’t stopped smiling since the appetizers arrived and every time he aimed it at her, warm reassurance temporarily soothed her ravenous nerves.
“Marriage-merger promises,” she explained with a nod. “We already have the Open Door clause, the Parent Trailer clause, and you know this isn’t about falling in love, but it’s important to me that we’re close. I want us to have a supportive and caring marriage, in case that wasn’t clear.”
“I understand. I want that too,” he said, earnestly. “We also have your Separate Bedroom clause—”
She was going to faint any minute now.
“—and I think we should have a Birthday clause. We promise to always remember and do something special on the day. Yours is February thirteenth.”
She laughed at the expectant look on his face. “December twenty-ninth. Don’t ever doubt me.”
“Never again.”
His undefeatable smile persisted as he took a sip of his drink. She was fully obsessed with how comfortably he showed his emotions and was praying that vulnerability extended beyond happiness.
“I’d like a Quality Time clause,” he said thoughtfully. “You have to promise to do things with me.”
“Oh? Do tell.” Zinnia fought the sudden urge to move closer to him.
But Jordan had no such qualms. He leaned into the respectable distance between them in the booth. She inhaled deeply as his subtle, pleasant cologne wafted over her—how had she not noticed that he smelled so good?
“I love going out,” he said. “There’s always something to do. Music festivals, flea markets, cultural food fairs, road trips to new places just because, but I also love staying home too. Being boring and enjoying each other’s company.”
“I’m in. One hundred percent. Do you like going to the movies?”
“I love going to the movies. How do you feel about plays? Theater?”
“I feel like that’s a yes for me too, but I’ve never been.”
“Oh, that’s unacceptable. We’re fixing that as soon as we get back.
” His expression suddenly dipped, becoming somber, and her stomach flipped.
“And I’d like…I don’t think it’s right to make this a clause, but I really hope that you’ll be kind to my family.
They can be a lot, but please give them a chance. ”
“Of course I will. No clause required,” she promised. “All I know about them is their names, their faces, and that you love them. We’re starting from scratch, as it should be.”
“Thank you. That really means a lot.”
His eyes were so soft and so nervous it almost took her breath away. Prayer answered.
“Now, back to business,” she joked to lift the mood. “Do you want to have kids? We never explicitly talked about that.” She was more curious than hopeful.
“I don’t know yet. I definitely need to see how we function as partners before throwing parenting into the mix, but there’s no rush on my end.”
“Same. When I picture my future there’s a place for them. I’d love to meet them someday, and if it’s meant to be I will. But more than that, I want to live a life filled with the people I love and the people who love me. However that looks.”
“Let’s call this the Five Year clause because I like what you said before. Five years of us first feels right.”
Zinnia stared at him in disbelief. This man had really remembered everything she’d said without a single reminder. “Why me?” she blurted out. “I’d bet money, real American dollars, that you’d be able to convince almost anyone to marry you.”
He blinked in surprise, but it quickly faded into certainty.
“I meant it when I said you convinced me. You changed my entire plan—my mindset, actually. I didn’t realize how long I’d been living on pause until you showed me a new starting line.
I want this kind of marriage as much as you do.
I just have this feeling that we’ll be good together. ”
“Jordan?” She exhaled, staring into those brown eyes of his burning in the sunset. “Will you marry me?”
“That’s supposed to be my line.” He reached into his pocket and set a ring box down in front of her. “I wanted to be ready. Just in case.”
He’d picked a gorgeous diamond ring that matched her bracelet.
She pulled a ring box of her own out of her purse. “It was my grandpa’s. I want you to have it.”
A gold wedding band dotted with sapphires.
“Borrowed and blue,” she said.