Page 39 of A Storybook Wedding

“Still. This is the age of Me Too, and believe me, I’m the last person who would intentionally get caught up in anything that could be misperceived. People know me. I’m sure there are people out there who would love to see me suffer. You get that, right?”

She sighs, and I find myself feeling bad for her, even though I’m the one who’s going to get canned come Monday at noon. “Like that awful bitch, Professor Devereaux,” she says.

“Exactly.”

“So let me get this straight. Not only are we concerned about your job, but we’re also concerned about what this could do to your writing career because even just the word scandal is basically a quick way to get you canceled.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Here, she stills for a beat. Finally, she whispers, “Damn.”

We’re both quiet on the line now. Images of Block Island run through my mind. I enjoyed it there, I think. It really jump-started my writing again.

I’ll be sad to lose it.

“You still there?” she asks.

“I’m here. Sorry. I was just thinking.”

“Thinking what?”

I inhale deeply. “When I took the job at Matthias, it was just so I could hide out, you know? Run from my deadline and all that. But it really helped me, being on the island. I started writing again. It just sucks. I’ll have to resign. And I should probably give my agent a call. Figure out how to minimize the fallout from all this.”

“Wait.”

“My editor is going to be so pissed. You know, it’s funny. I’m actually kind of surprised I haven’t heard from either of them about this yet.”

“Nate.”

“Especially my publicist, Marissa. She’s so tapped into social media and anything that could ultimately be turned into a GIF, it’s insane.”

“Nate!”

I stop. “What?”

“I think I have a solution.”

“CJ, I wish there was a solution, but it’s pretty obvious that at this point, I need to pivot to damage control.”

“No! You’re wrong. Hear me out.”

“Okay,” I say, sensing a combination of urgency, guilt, and sadness in her voice. “Go ahead.”

“I think we should get married.”

“What? Are you nuts?” Did she really just say that?

“I’m serious. Read the thing! It says, ‘If a faculty member is married to a student, this relationship must be disclosed to the Director of the program in which the faculty member works. The Director may use his/her discretion to determine if the married student can participate in the program; however, under no circumstances will the student be permitted to be placed in a grade-bearing workshop/class or receive formal mentorship from his/her spouse. These special circumstances are evaluated on a case-by-case basis.’ So all we have to do is get married and then beg Dillon Norway to let you stay!”

“Do you hear yourself right now? All we have to do is get married?” She’s crazy. I mean, it’s sweet, but also definitely not a choice.

“I mean, I don’t know your stance on marriage, but I can tell you that I personally don’t really care all that much. My goals include getting an agent and publishing a book. I want to be an author. I’m sure I’ll have relationships, and one day I might wind up married, but that’s not my number-one priority right now. So it really wouldn’t be any skin off my back.”

“CJ, I have never met a woman who didn’t at least secretly fantasize about a big wedding with a fancy white dress like what you read about in fairy tales.”

“Well, now you have,” she retorts. “What about you? Are you one of those horse-and-carriage white-knight Cinderella grooms?”

“Um, no. But I’d be lying if I said I’ve never thought about getting married.”

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