Do You Take This Man (5)
Eric rolled the sleeves on his shirt as we walked. “Did you talk to Gretchen yet?”
“We met a few days ago, and she agreed to be my mentor.”
“And you’re . . . happy about this? You look like she agreed to be your tormentor.”
“No, I’m excited.” I’d been nervous as hell to tell Gretchen she had the career I wanted and to ask her to mentor me. She’d grilled me about my goals and plans in a way that made every job interview I’d ever had feel like practice runs. “I admire the hell out of her, but you know she’s terrifying. It was like asking the goddess of war for a favor.”
Eric chuckled. “She does have a few Athena qualities, but I don’t think she’s quite as intimidating as you assume.”
I leveled him with a stare.
“Fine. She is, but she’s a person. She’s got flaws and skeletons, just like everyone else, and, believe it or not, she has a soft side, too.”
“Well, as long as she can help me have the career she’s had, I don’t need to see her soft side.” I didn’t know the full story, but Eric and Gretchen had known each other socially. He’d mentioned casually once that Gretchen had introduced him to Tyson years earlier. Still, I didn’t really believe she shed her veneer of power and poise when she left the office, which was part of what I admired. “She hates this wedding thing.”
“That’s not shocking,” he said, pushing through the door into the space crowded with other professionals who had forgotten to take lunch on time. “What’s going on with that? I was out on parental leave when it happened, and everything after that is a little blurry. You performed this wedding in the park and it turned out he was a client of ours?”
The smells of the deli made my mouth water and I made a mental note to order an extra sandwich to have for dinner later in my office. “A big client with the LA branch. After it went viral, they were interviewed constantly, and every time, they talked about the ceremony I wrote for them on the fly, how it was original and beautiful. Add to that, he told some friends who told other friends, and suddenly . . .” I paused as we stepped forward.
“Suddenly you’re a divorce attorney who performs weddings.” Eric shook his head. “Why did you get ordained in the first place?”
I sighed. “My best friend is getting married and asked me to perform the ceremony, so I did it online.”
“Got it,” Eric said. “So, now you have a side hustle.”
“Exactly,” I said, stepping to the counter and ordering my sandwiches. “I got the impression we should keep the clients happy and then I got in over my head. I am booked to do them through the summer. Gretchen doesn’t like it, but the other partners appreciate that clients are happy.”
“Clients? More than one?”
I raised an eyebrow and blew out a slow breath. “You’d be surprised how many of our wealthy and powerful clients have children getting married who are dying to be one degree closer to a celebrity.” I didn’t add how surprised he’d be to learn I kind of enjoyed doing it, or how much of a sucker I was when hearing the stories of other couples not related to the firm. I’d said yes to too many of them.
Eric chuckled, thanking the woman at the counter for his food. “I’d pay to see this.”
“See me do a wedding? You don’t have to. The video of Alejandro and George’s went viral.” That had been slightly less fun than a root canal.
“Well, I saw that already. I was up at three a.m. with an infant. I think I saw everything on YouTube.” Eric sipped from his straw, making me wait for whatever he was going to say next. It was one of his more endearing and annoying habits. “Honestly, it was amazing, especially if you pulled it together on the fly. You’re just so unromantic. It was kind of shocking to see you out there, waxing poetic about love,” he mused. “I teared up. I mean, I was sleep deprived and my shirt was stained with either poop or Coke Zero, but still. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Unromantic” was one word for it. Romantic love wasn’t meant to last. I’d never questioned that. It didn’t for my parents, it never had for me, and I made a good living at watching it not last for others. “You know I love being in charge of a room,” I deflected, even though it was a little more than that. It was easy to pretend love could last for other people, even if just for those few hours. That’s what I’d tapped into when I wrote that first ceremony. I thought about the kinds of things my best friends Britta and Kat would want to hear with their soft, love-receptive hearts. I thought about the things I’d wanted a guy to say to my mom when she started dating again. I thought about the way Eric looked at his husband, and the words came. I was pretending to believe, but I’d come to enjoy the pretending, though no one needed to know that. I’d thought about my last relationship and the peace I secretly wanted and never found and, on the fly, I’d added a line about finding a home inside someone else’s heart. My friends teased me, saying that was the line that made them suspect my anti-romance stance wasn’t as strong as I thought. I assured them I’d googled it even though I hadn’t. Eric didn’t need to know that, though, and he still eyed me. “Plus, maybe I’ll pick up some future clients.”
The woman at the counter handed me the two giant sandwiches, only one of which would fit in my purse and that I could save for dinner. Eric’s tone had shifted to cautious. “You’re being careful, though, right?”