Chapter Two
“It’s the ultimate irony,” Vesna said, coming out of a headstand pose to sit in lotus style and continue to amuse her roommate.
“Longest dry spell. Ovaries shouting out alarms for the past two years and what do I do? Take charge and plunk down a wad of cash with an executive matchmaking, arranged-marriage firm.”
Ayana knew all this. She dreaded it. And felt guilty that she’d taken over some of the communication with the wannabe groom in Denver because he was a night owl, and Vesna went to bed early and had also been traveling on work projects.
Ayana had only arrived home from her latest season working for a river cruise company based in Europe last night.
With the sun’s rotation being what it was, she’d been able to communicate with Cam Saunders for her roommate when necessary.
She wasn’t sure it was a good match for the lighthearted and practical Vesna, because sometimes Cam seemed warm and funny and pretty easygoing but other times he overthought and came up with the most esoteric rabbit-hole ideas, which she’d enjoyed popping down with him too much.
Sometimes she’d felt like she was cheating, although Vesna had asked for her help. She’d told Vesna she was done just as Vesna said that she had accepted an in-person meeting with her potential groom. Ayana could barely hold back the shivers about that thought.
“But now disaster.”
Ayana shoveled more noodles in her mouth. Finally, Vesna was coming to her senses and abandoning the mid-nineteenth-century ball-and-chain idea.
“Last weekend, I finally met my soul mate,” Vesna wailed.
“Huh?” Ayana paused mid-bite.
“In the Panera Bread line. I was ordering soup and struck up a conversation with Mr. Cute, Right, and Amazing and … I just knew.”
“Knew what?”
“How can you look like a dryad or some mythical fairy creature in the forest and have not one romantic bone in your body?” Vesna demanded.
She head-tossed her long, curated brunette barrel curls over her shoulder in a move that reminded Ayana of a thoroughbred horse.
“I committed to meeting a billionaire—I can google and read between the lines and count.”
“Useful skill for an accountant,” Ayana teased, a little uneasy with how Vesna was so keyed up and glowing about a man she’d just met.
Not that marrying a rich stranger was any better. Ayana couldn’t imagine giving up an ounce of her hard-won agency to any man—stranger or known—for any amount on a balance sheet.
“And then I meet the man of my dreams. But I have to make a decision now because I’m supposed to go to Denver in a few days. But Ryan is perfect.”
“Why put so much pressure on yourself?” Ayana asked.
They’d been roommates for a few years, and the situation worked because Ayana was usually gone for weeks or months at a time working on cruise ships. She loved the travel, the tips and being mostly off grid.
“Your biological clock has years before it murmurs, much less shouts.”
“Easy for you to say,” Vesna shot back. “You’re just hitting your mid-twenties. Practically a baby. I want kids. Two or three at least.”
“You’re only thirty-two. You have oodles of time and enough bank to go the sperm donor route. Why bring a man into it?”
Vesna’s mouth dropped open. “The man is the best part,” she said.
“My mom raised me and my sister alone, no help from my dad who ran off with his personal assistant in the dumbest cliché ever. With Cam, I would have had a business deal that already inked the severance package if we divorced, settled custody, and child support. I would have been set—working or not working when the kids were young.”
“That’s a business deal, not a marriage,” Ayana countered.
“I thought marriage was business … or it could be,” Vesna wailed.
“But now you’re thinking of throwing over sure thing”—Ayana did air quotes—“for a dude in Panera Bread. How is that seizing your future with a clear-eyed, smart-heart, cool-headed strategy?”
Vesna blushed to have her words from when she’d texted Ayana about her scheme and asked if she could help with some of the communication thrown back in her face.
“It’s not,” she said softly. “And yet I think I need to go with my heart, with Ryan. When you know, you know,” she said defensively.
“Standing in line when he turned around and made a little joke about the wait, I looked into his clear blue eyes—like a Greek body of water—and felt like my world finally tilted and I’d come home. Soul mate. Finally.”
Ayana opened her mouth to say … something, but it would probably be mean.
Vesna had become a friend over the past three years—an easy roommate, who didn’t ask too many questions.
Vesna hadn’t had the weird upbringing Ayana had endured, so she was free to spout off about true love.
Vesna was a believer. Princess Bride was her favorite movie.
Ayana had never heard of it and didn’t believe in fairy tales, but within a week of her answering Vesna’s online query for a roommate, Vesna had streamed the movie, peppering it with commentary, tears, and snacks. Twice the first week.
Ayana had survived but still didn’t believe.
“I can’t believe it, but I’ve made up my mind.
Whew!” Vesna sang out. “Let’s celebrate my decision to chase love not money and to you being home.
Oh and to true love.” Vesna mimed making a toast. “I’ll make us an Aperol spritz to celebrate.
It will feel like I’m at a café in Paris—something you’ve probably done dozens of times.
Paris.” She snapped her fingers and bounced to her feet.
“I’ll suggest that Ryan and I should go to Paris for our honeymoon. I’ve always wanted to go.”
“Mr. Billionaire could probably fly you to Paris for the weekend at your whim.” Ayana’s inner devil—the one the Family insisted she harbored due to her smart mouth and outlandish ideas—didn’t want to shut up about the absurdity of Vesna’s crazy scheme—first mail-order bride; now floppy-haired, dreamy-eyed soul mate, woodworker—Ryan.
In line for soup. How could a staple create such chaos-thinking? Up until a couple of hours ago, Ayana had felt like Vesna was grounded and practical and strong—not someone who would hand over their heart and future into a man’s carelessly indifferent hands.
“Cam probably has adventures every weekend, but now he wants to buy a ranch in Montana. That’s what intrigued me,” Vesna said from the kitchen.
Ayana heard the pop of a cork. Good thing because Vesna wouldn’t hear her muttered BS oath. “Girl, you have weekly appointments at Spa Blissed Out for nails, brows, facial, massage and cupping, and whatever. Ranch Montana will have none of that.”
Never let it be said that she wasn’t practical, even though she did give off mermaid vibes.
One of the reasons she’d cropped her long hair—less noticeable to men or anyone asking about her.
At least the Family hadn’t believed in the technology to take pictures.
Her job with the cruise ship company had made her feel safe.
No way would the Family travel to Europe, especially aboard a high-end cruise.
“True. It doesn’t matter now.” Vesna returned with two flutes brimming with bubbling bright orange liquid. “But Ryan has no aspirations to go rural. He’s actually in the process of moving home to Savannah.”
Relief coursed through Ayana. Long distance would kill the soul-mate idea. Vesna liked attention. She sensed Cam did as well. That had been one other black mark against the match. There could only be one star in a relationship.
“He inherited a little house with a workshop from his grandparents outside of town so he can pursue his carpentry business.” Vesna sipped and smiled. “I can transfer or get a new job or start my own accounting and bookkeeping business.”
Ayana choked on her drink. “Don’t you think you should give it a week before quitting your job and moving north with your new pretty Jesus, Ryan, or booting Big Bucks? Shouldn’t you at least meet Cam before calling it game over?”
What was she going to do if Vesna moved?
The apartment was in her name. All the furniture was hers.
Affordable apartments in Atlanta were scarce.
Vesna was her only contract in the city, and now that the job was over, it had been time.
She’d stayed too long, but she hated being blindsided. She was a planner. Always.
“Sometimes you just have to leap into love.”
“And maybe crash.”
“You are so cynical.”
“Guilty.”
“And why are you suddenly standing up for Cam? I took a screenshot of your face when you heard about my mail-order-bride scheme. I could make horror-movie memes.”
“No,” Ayana said quickly.
She’d have to delete those screenshots. She’d made her way across country over the years, and she had no intention of leaving any social media breadcrumbs.
Vesna laughed. “You are so ridiculously photogenic and yet camera-shy. Okay. No horror memes. That will be my gift to you since Ryan and I are already strategizing the move.”
“So you’re just going to leave Cam hanging?” Ayana demanded, not sure why she was arguing against what to her seemed like two evils—arranged marriage or running away with a woodworking soul mate Vesna had known a few days. She’d been texting with Cam for weeks.
I’ve been texting with Cam for weeks.
“I can’t spend the weekend with Cam in Denver. That would be like cheating.”
Ayana stared at Vesna, feeling the pieces of her tenuous life shift and slip. Again.
“It’s gonna work out great. Cheers.” Vesna clinked glasses, sloshing liquid on Ayana’s hand as well as her current knitting project, a triangle bandana type of scarf with an intricate Celtic knot border.
“Well, you should at least cancel Cam then,” Ayana said, sipping at the champagne and mentally calculating her next move. She’d need a job. And a new place to live if Vesna was really leaving. She couldn’t afford the full rent.
She lived and traveled light. It was safer. And she had savings, but she didn’t want to have to dip into them. She’d be fine. She was a survivor.