“That’s … good.”
It’s all I can manage.
I hear him sigh. “I know you were hoping for it to work out differently, but this is such a great opportunity, Alyssa.”
I know it is. He’s explained to me the role of child life specialist before. It’s pretty much the noblest thing I can think of, being the person to coach children and parents through life-threatening surgeries, supporting their mental health during some of the most difficult times of their lives.
It’s so wrong of me to begrudge him this success. His wanting to do it … it’s one of the reasons I love him.
So I lift my face bravely and find a real smile. “I’m proud of you,” I say honestly. “You’ll do great.”
“Thank you,” he answers stiffly.
I dish up dinner, take two, and as I carry our plates over, I catch him staring pensively out the window. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Jake rubs at the back of his neck. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
I sit down across from him, smoothing my skirt. Something is nagging at me. I’ve been waiting for this night for so long, and something about it … I don’t know. I haven’t seen Jake since Valentine’s Day, when I’d insisted he fly down, and I feel all confused as to why it’s not living up to the expectation.
I have this problem a lot, though. Where reality doesn’t live up to the anticipation of something I’ve envisioned in my head.
Jake cuts his food and nods toward me. “How’d your finals go? Were they questions like, ‘pleats—yay or no way?’”
I tilt my head and reach across the table to poke his hand with my fork. “Very funny. LOL.”
Jake just loves to joke about my fashion merchandising major.
“There were actually a lot of business courses this semester. My finals were mostly math, Professor Genius.”
His eyes sparkle. “Professor Genius?”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m going to call you. If you keep mocking me.”
“I’m not mocking you. Someone’s got to pick out people’s clothes. Lord knows it’s a skill I don’t have. I look much more together when I’m in your company.”
Jake winks, and I’m smiling for real, and I think I’m finally relaxed and enjoying my food … until I look across the table a moment later and realize it doesn’t seem like he’s enjoying his. I watch him, and he’s pushing it around his plate more than anything else, taking tiny bites of chicken and ignoring the noodles altogether.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “It probably tasted better before. I just wasn’t sure if I should keep it hot or…”
“No, no, no!” he assures me quickly. “It’s excellent, I swear. It’s just … well…” Jake hangs his head. “Everything ended up taking so long, trying to get here, and I hadn’t eaten lunch. After everything got sorted out with the accident, I … I ended up stopping and grabbing some pizza on my way here.”
I set my fork down.
Don’t cry. You will not cry.
But the damn YouTube videos, the grocery list, the money I’d spent on ingredients and supplies, the thought and the effort … how worried I’d been … and Jake had grabbed pizza.
It’s not his fault. He didn’t know.
Of course he didn’t know. Because nothing is in sync anymore.
My throat convulses, and I feel the pressure in my chest, and … oh no.
Tears are not part of our perfect first evening together.
“Be right back,” I whisper. I stand abruptly and turn my face so he can’t see my glistening eyes. “Just running to the bathroom.”
I’m quick, but I’m not quick enough, and before I can duck inside the small powder room, I feel Jake’s hand closing around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.
He turns me around, his eyes scanning mine. “Whoa. Hey. Hey. What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, still trying to keep him from seeing my face, but I feel them, a couple of tears, spill onto my cheeks.
Jake takes my face in both hands and forces me to look at him. “I’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes quietly. “Really, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were cooking.”
“It was supposed to be a surprise.” My words are choked as I fight to keep more tears from falling. “I just … I worked so hard, and I have dessert ready, too … crème brûlée, and I bought that stupid little torch, ya know? And now it’s all ruined, and I just feel like…”
I feel sad.
I feel sad, and I’m pretty sure it’s not just about dinner, but dinner is something I can wrap my head around being sad about.
“I know you worked hard, and I really appreciate it, okay?” He taps my chin. “Look at me.”
I raise my watery eyes to his gentle baby blues. “It was so good of you. You are so good, and”—his eyes sweep over me—“you look gorgeous, Alyssa, and I’m … I’m happy to see you. I am, you know that, right?”
My head falls.
Suddenly I’m blurting out the truth. I only have the nerve to speak to the carpet, not Jake, as I say what’s on my mind. “I’m just not entirely sure you one hundred percent want to be here.”
In Florida. With me. Any of it.
When I make myself look back up, uncertainty is flickering in his eyes. I hate it. It’s not what I want to see there.
“Look. I know these past few months, we’ve had a rough patch.” Jake squeezes my hands. “But if I didn’t care to figure this out with you, if I wasn’t interested in fixing that, I wouldn’t be here, okay?”
I don’t answer him. I don’t want to acknowledge that this is hard now. I just want it to be fixed. Now.
Last summer had been effortless.
“Come here,” he whispers.
He tugs on my arm and draws my body against his for a real hug. It’s one I really need.
“Don’t be sad.” He squeezes my sides. “Where’s that torch? Let’s go set some sugar on fire, okay?”
I start laugh-crying against his chest. “Okay.”
“I always have room for my favorite dessert.” Jake kisses my temple.
He hugs me one more time, turning to lead me back toward the kitchen, and I decide maybe the night can still be salvaged. After all, dessert is the best part of any meal, and everything is better with a little sugar sprinkled on top.
chapter 3
On Monday afternoon, I leave the park after a full day comprised of multiple appearances at the Princess Brunch and meet-and-greets at the Diamond Palace. I walk out with Chrissi, who’s often at my side during meet-and-greets, embodying my fairy godmother. Enchanted Enterprises opted for a younger, more spritelike godmother in their movie rendering of the classic tale, and Chrissi more than fits the bill.
I’m not even sure if Chrissi’s five foot; she’s petite and somewhat unkempt, with this wild dark blond hair that is perpetually twisted up in a messy bun. She dances through life with the grace and stamina of a ballerina on speed, constantly surrounded by this fluttering energy field that sometimes causes me to stare at her back to see if actual pixie wings are sprouting there.
We talk as we walk—well, Chrissi talks, the way she often does without taking a breath. “And I mean, it’s laughably ridiculous that the second Memorial Day rolls around and the princess summer squad is in town, Kellen’s already organized a party to harass the newbies, but on the other hand, it’s a beautiful night and who doesn’t love a good courtyard party, so I told Rose—”
She stops suddenly, midsentence, and stares at me. “Pause. What is that face?”
“What face?”
“That face.” Chrissi points at me. “This week … knowing the big countdown was almost over … you’ve been smiling so hard it was like you were going through auditions all over again, excited as you’ve been.” She shakes her head. “So today I expected, I dunno”—she’s still carrying her magic wand and waves it in the air as she makes her point—“mussed hair. Dreamy smiles. Swollen lips. But you seem down.”
I realize I’ve automatically plastered a wide
smile on my face in response to her mentioning its absence, something I do as a reflex. The Enchanted Princesses are never to be caught without a smile. So it’s easy to protest. “What do you mean?” I touch an index finger to my lips. “Still smiling here.”
But Chrissi keeps looking at me, and even though my mouth is cooperating, a worried little sigh escapes through my nose.
It makes her stop in her tracks. “Seriously. What’s wrong?”
I pause, then slowly lower myself onto a nearby bench, making sure I choose my words carefully. No need to make any of this seem like a bigger deal than it is. After all, Jake himself had reassured me.
Hadn’t he?
I shake my head to clear it, hair brushing back and forth over my shoulders. “It was tough, us being apart so long. Conversations just didn’t flow the way they used to. Inside jokes weren’t quite as funny anymore since we never had a chance to make new ones. I guess I just thought the second we were back together, everything would gel right away. Just … naturally.”
“Just naturally?” Chrissi plops down next to me. “You surprise me, Alyssa.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You’re an Enchanted girl at heart. And relationships are like anything else.” With a giggle and a grin, she produces a tiny canister of glittery pixie dust from her bag, uncorks the top, and blows some in my direction. It coats my shoulders, and she nods with satisfaction. “You need a touch of magic to make them work. To make them really come to life.”
My eyes widen and I throw my hands up. “I brought the magic! Trust me!” I spend the next several minutes detailing my perfectly planned romantic meal, my efforts all the way from dredging the raw chicken to setting the sugar crystals on fire.
And when I’m done, Chrissi’s staring at me skeptically.
“What? It was amazing!” I assure her.
She cocks her head. “The concept that the way to a guy’s heart is through his stomach is super outdated.” Her eyebrows disappear beneath her bangs, and her tongue appears in the corner of her mouth. “There’s another type of magic they appreciate much, much more.”
I giggle. “Chrissi!”
She puts her hand on my knee. “No, I’m serious here.” She shrugs. “Us girls, we have this tendency to want all the emotional stuff to feel perfectly aligned in order for the physical to be good, right? But guys, they’re backward that way, most of them anyway, and sometimes, surprisingly, getting physical together can make the other stuff click. Help all involved parties relax a little bit and just have some fun together. Reconnect. Ya know?”
I stare at the lazy crowds passing us by, considering. I’m not sure I do.
“So maybe you should do something to really knock his socks off.”
Hmm. Jake and I had had, like, four opportunities to be in the same place at the same time since last August. I had thought mere proximity would be sock-knockin’ worthy. Yet … he hadn’t even stayed over that first night. He said he was beat from the trip and needed to get settled in his apartment before he started working, but … maybe I could have stepped up my game a bit.
I chew on my lip as I glance at Chrissi from the corner of my eye. “You really think?”
“Yeah. I do. At the very least, a little effort on the sexy and seductive front can’t hurt.” A second later, her eyes widen and she sits up straight. “I know! We should go into downtown tonight. Go over to Bare with Flare.”
“I just can’t take that store seriously.” I laugh. “I mean, that sign…”
“No, it’s cool now,” she assures me. “I heard they’re carrying that new Enchanted Beneath It All line.”
I sit up. “Really?” Now my interest is piqued. I’d seen some online samples of the new princess-inspired lingerie line, and they were supercute.
“Yup.” Chrissi stands, pulls me up, and we resume our course toward the exit. “So let’s go home and shower. Then we’ll meet back at our place and go shopping. I’ll tell the girls.”
A moment later, she looks at me again. “And screw Kellen’s party,” she adds quietly. “We can just hang out and have some girl time if you’d rather.”
I smile gratefully back at her. “That’s sweet of you. But I told Jake I’d grab a late dinner with him when he’s done tonight.”
She actually winks at me. “And after our trip, you’ll be the most appetizing thing on the menu.”
I fall over giggling, jabbing her with my elbow. “You’re ridiculous.” Then I throw my arm around her and plant a kiss on her cheek. Because I do feel much better after talking to her, like my head is clear and like I actually have a plan to make things better. “Thanks for trying to help.”
She’s waving her wand in the air again. “No need to thank me. What kind of fairy godmother would I be if I didn’t help you bring a little magic?”
* * *
I PICK UP Chrissi and Rose at their apartment. Rose and I have to remind Chrissi she needs shoes, because she starts walking out the door without them, but eventually we’re on our way.
I talk fashion with Rose as we clomp down the outside stairwell, pointing toward the green-and-black, palm-patterned dress she’s paired with shiny red sandals. “Your dress is supercute. ModCloth again?” She has a bit of an addiction. I think mostly because she’s obsessed with the catchy names they assign their items.
She nods. Then grins. “It’s called a girl’s best frond.”
“Cute,” I say again.
Rose runs her finger along the fabric of my dress. “This is really nice. Has to be Lilly, right?”
I nod in response. I don’t bother to say it’s from two years ago and that I snagged it off eBay for twenty bucks and had to bleach it twice to get rid of a makeup stain around the neckline.
The three of us talk park politics, share bits of gossip, and update one another on returning cast members as we walk, and ten minutes later we’ve made it to the downtown shopping and restaurant section of the complex. I see the sign for Bare with Flare, a cheesy neon creation that portrays a teddy bear wearing lingerie and doing some type of PG-13 striptease, at the end of the block. It does little to convince me that we’re on the right track here.
However, the second we step inside, my eyes are immediately drawn to the front right corner of the store, where they’ve highlighted the new arrivals from the Enchanted Beneath It All collection. With a squeal, I make a beeline toward the familiar color combinations and the signature elements of the Enchanted Princesses.
There are undies comprised entirely of tiny satin red roses, silky aquamarine camisoles bearing the Little Mermaid’s scales, and, be still my heart, a Cinderella bridal line that’s all white, each item accented with countless tiny crystal hearts. There are sets in Rapunzel’s signature emerald green and gold, sets in Beauty’s signature royal blue and crimson. The pieces are individually, and collectively, delicate and beautiful, each bearing a tiny, hidden golden silhouette of the princess they’re representative of.
Beside me, Chrissi flips impatiently through a rack, dislodging several hangers. “Surprise, surprise. No fairy gear. That’s not right! Fairies are supersexy!”
Rose, who’s inspecting a deep red low-cut chemise from the Rose Red collection, clucks in sympathy. “Poor Chrissi.”
I’m too busy filling my arms with every last Cinderella signature item to comment.
Chrissi turns to me, and then frowns. “Um, no.”
“No?” I hold up a pair of white silk panties, the back of which is practically see-through thanks to a large mesh heart cutout. “These are so hot!”
She snatches them away and shakes the hanger. The tiny undies shimmy in the air. “These are white! And gold! And Cinderella! Everything you own is white and gold and Cinderella.”
I cross my loaded-down arms over my chest. “Not entirely true.”
“So entirely true,” Rose chimes in.
Chrissi reaches past Rose and grabs something from the red and black section and turns around to present her pick, a red lace busti
er and coordinating boy shorts. A subtle rose pattern borders the top of the bustier and the bottom hem of the shorts. “I betcha next week’s paycheck that Jake has never seen you in red lace. This will make him sit up and pay attention. This is magic.”
I have to admit it’s a hot little combo, and in the spirit of doing something new and different, I agree to try it on. I’m kind of surprised when I turn around and look in the mirror, because I’m so unused to wearing bright colors. I look … okay, I look pretty sexy, but I can’t say that I look like myself.
I meet my own gaze in the mirror. Why should not looking like myself have to be part of the plan?
I turn around and redress before giving it any further consideration.
When I emerge from the dressing room, Chrissi raises her eyebrows and I begrudgingly admit, “It might be a good pick.”
“Knew it.” She nods in satisfaction, grasping a chocolate-colored teddy bear wearing a, you guessed it, teddy.
“What is that?”
“It’s the Bare with Flare bear.” She grins. “I’m totally buying it.”
I shake my head. “Where’s Rose?”
“She’s still trying on.” Then she actually shoves me toward the register. “You go and pay before you change your mind.”
When we leave the store fifteen minutes later, Rose glances at her watch. “What time is Jake done tonight?”
“He’s working till eight. Then he has to take the shuttle back and shower.”
Chrissi links her arm through mine. “So you’re gonna come back and watch The Bachelorette premiere with us, right? I know you can’t resist the notion of love at first sight.”
I chew on my lip. “I don’t know. If I watch the premiere, then I’ll watch next week, and the week after that, and then before I know it I’ll be trying to arrange my work schedule around being home on Mondays at eight o’clock.”
“That’s what DVR is for.”