8. Jenny
Chapter 8
Jenny
“Well, I was wondering when you two would make your way over here,” says Holly, her voice warm and inviting as she scoots over in the booth to make room. The soft murmur of the restaurant around us is punctuated by laughter and the occasional clinking of plates and glasses.
“It’s not like they could get lost in here,” laughs Gwen, leaning casually on the table. Her bright smile reflects the colorful murals on the walls. “By the way, Trent, I hear you have some big news to share with us?”
Trent nods. “I do. I know you and Niall have talked with Jenny a handful of times at the marina, but let me officially introduce her as my fiancée.”
“Congratulations, mate!” Niall says, his smile as big as the sun.
“So,” Gwen says, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes like she’s solving a crime in one of her books, “I might be the only one brave enough to say it, but this engagement caught us all by surprise. I mean, you two have only known each other a few months, right? We didn’t even know you were seeing each other and then wham! engaged.”
A beat of silence follows. A few exchanged glances. Greg lets out a low whistle.
“She’s not wrong,” says Greg, his brows raised like he’s waiting for an explanation. “I mean, I work with you both and didn’t know.”
“Of course I’m not wrong,” replies Gwen. “So why all the secrecy? We didn’t even know you were dating.”
Trent shifts beside me, clearing his throat. I see the flicker of panic in his eyes
“Well,” Trent starts, “we just—”
The tension coils in my stomach. If I don’t jump in, he might fumble this.
“Didn’t want anyone to know,” I cut in quickly. “I mean, wouldn’t that look bad? I step in to manage the marina and then end up dating my boss? We didn’t want anyone to know in case things didn’t work out.”
Where that lie came from, I’ll never know. But Trent’s shoulders dropping in relief tells me I made the right call.
“She’s not wrong,” says Niall.
“That’s true,” Gwen says, her suspicious gaze bouncing between the two of us like she’s scanning for cracks in our story.
I force a smile, hoping she doesn’t dig deeper. “We kind of hit it off from the get-go. And with Trent saving my life the first time we met, it wasn’t hard for me to fall for him.” I tuck my hair behind my ear, my pulse picking up.
Holly gasps, smacking Greg on the arm. “I knew that would happen! I knew it. I saw a spark of something between them that first day.”
“Well, with how much easier my life became when Jenny started at the marina, it didn’t take much for me to grow fond of her,” Trent says, finally leaning back, his usual confidence returning.
The tension breaks. Greg lets out a chuckle. Niall shakes his head. Gwen, however, is still watching us, her lips pursed like she’s debating whether to push further.
“How about you stop blocking the booth so we can all sit down and get some food ordered?” Trent adds smoothly.
“Of course you’d be thinking about the food, Trent,” Niall says, shaking his head.
“In any case,” Gwen says, stepping aside, “I would love to offer my event planning services to you.”
“Oh wow,” I say, “that’s so nice. You really don’t have to—”
Gwen stops me with a raise of her hand. “Nonsense. Trent has always been like a brother to me, and I would be honored to help you plan the event.”
“You might have to get in line,” chuckles Trent, sliding into the booth beside me. His shoulder brushes mine as he leans back, a faint scent of his cologne mingling with the spicy aroma of appetizers being carried to nearby tables. “I could see the wheels turning in my mom’s head the moment she heard the news.”
“Good point,” Gwen replies with a knowing smirk, pulling out her phone. “Let me text her now so she doesn’t go and get Emily Emerson to plan the event. Emily is always trying to swoop in and take my business. Give me one second, guys. This is for the good of Trent and Jenny’s wedding. I’ve seen Emily’s work, and while she’s good, she’s not me.” She taps rapidly on her phone, her fingers flying over the screen.
Our server arrives, and we all place our orders, along with a selection of appetizers for the table. The smell of frying cheese and tangy buffalo sauce wafts through the air as another table nearby receives their food.
As the others dive into a spirited discussion about song requests for the band to play, I quietly observe, watching them input their selections into the small device on the table. Their laughter and animated chatter fill the space, and I can’t help but smile at their easy camaraderie.
These are Trent’s closest friends, and while I’ve met and interacted a bit with each of them during my time at the marina, seeing them like this—so relaxed, so tightly knit—stirs something inside me. A pang of sadness washes over me, heavy and familiar.
They are like family to each other. And alright, I know that Greg and Gwen are actual family, but there’s a bond between them all that I’ve never truly experienced. The sadness sits hard in my stomach, its weight like a stone.
What am I doing? Am I invading this lovely friend group by inserting myself into the picture? Would Trent have found a wife who might fit in better with these people than I can?
A strong, warm hand folds over mine. My heart skips, and when I glance over, Trent is watching me, his brow furrowed with quiet concern. I smile faintly, adjusting my position in the booth to hide my moment of vulnerability.
“So, what music do you like to dance to?” I ask him, flipping my hand over and lacing my fingers through his.
“I like most of the songs they do,” Trent says, gesturing to everyone in the booth, “but I don’t think I’ll request one tonight. Figured I’d sit back and enjoy what others select.”
Niall, who’s been half-listening, glances over with confusion etched across his face. “What? You’re not dancing?”
Trent shrugs, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand. The gentle motion sends a ripple of warmth through me. “I mean, I’d rather sit here with my fiancée.”
“You not a dancer?” Niall asks me.
“Not really,” I say.
“Too bad,” Niall says. “You’ll be missing out with Trent here then.”
“He is quite the dancer,” Greg adds.
“Is he?” I ask. I can’t help but grin at Trent, who shimmies playfully.
“He is,” Holly says. “Dancing and karaoke I have to say are some of his best talents.”
“I had no idea,” I say. “Trent, you’ve been holding out on me. What’s your favorite karaoke song?”
Gwen leans in with a mischievous grin. “Oh, that’s easy. Journey’s ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ is for sure his number one go-to song. Though he usually sings it with Margot, Holly’s sister.” Her phone buzzes, and she glances down. “Looks like your mom and I are in sync, Trent. She’s on board with me being the wedding planner.”
“Glad you could convince her,” Trent says.
“Like it was hard?” Gwen says.
Trent holds up his hands in mock defense.
“We’re meeting tomorrow,” says Gwen, “to start planning. Does that work for you all?”
“So soon?” Trent asks.
“I like to get the ball rolling,” says Gwen.
Trent looks at me for confirmation.
“Tomorrow sounds good to me,” I say. I don’t care when the wedding planning takes place, I’m just relieved that I won’t have to handle the details of the wedding alone. I’ve never been one for the logistics, not even for my art shows—I prefer to focus on creating and let others handle the rest. I actually wonder if Mrs. Hughes and Gwen would mind taking full rein over most of the details. With this being a wedding that I’ve thought of for less than twenty-four hours, I don’t have many ideas.
“If you have it at the marina,” Trent says in a joking tone, “I could probably pop in for a few minutes.” He winks at me.
“Hilarious, Trent,” Gwen says. “But I could make that work.”
The appetizers arrive, and the table erupts into motion. Plates are passed, and the sharp tang of marinara sauce mingles with the creamy richness of spinach dip. I sip my Dr Pepper, savoring the fizzy sweetness as I take in the lively atmosphere. The whimsical murals on the walls seem almost alive under the warm glow of the lights, each character frozen mid-performance.
I’m so absorbed in the details of the paintings that I don’t notice the other couples have left the booth until I see them out on the dance floor. Holly and Greg get into the rhythm of the song as they dance, and Gwen and Niall are alight with playful energy.
“They’re so perfect together,” I whisper to Trent, my eyes glued to the dance floor.
“Which ones?” Trent asks.
“Both of them.”
“They really are,” Trent says.
“Have Gwen and Niall been together long? They’re engaged, right?”
“Yeah,” Trent says with a genuine smile. “They met on the cruise for Holly and Greg’s wedding last summer. They had chemistry from the start.”
As the song ends, I clap enthusiastically, inspired by their joy. “Let’s dance one together,” I blurt out, surprising even myself.
Trent turns to me, his expression serious. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
“I’m positive,” I reply, my confidence growing. “And I think I have the perfect song for us.”
Trent grabs the device to request songs and hands it to me with a grin. “Let’s do it then! I’m always down for a good time.”
Smiling, I type in a song that feels almost too fitting. As I confirm the selection, a tingle of nervous excitement courses through me.
Gwen and Niall return to the table, glowing from their dance. Holly and Greg stay out on the dance floor as a new song, “Islands in the Stream,” begins. It’s so perfectly them—effortlessly charming and full of heart.
I watch them dance, reflecting on how Holly’s kindness has completely reshaped my life. Without her and her insistence that I was the perfect person to interview at the marina, I wouldn’t have a job, a place to live, or the chance to see Grandpa every day.
Thankfully Trent agreed with her, and now I have a fiancé.
OMG, I have a fiancé.
It’s not what I expected—I thought marriage would come from love, not a mutually beneficial agreement. But as I glance at Trent, I can’t help but think how lucky I am that he’s the one standing by my side. I feel like I’m getting more out of this arrangement than him, even if he is getting the marina.
I guess I couldn’t have asked for a better person to arrange a marriage of convenience with.