Page 47 of A Storybook Wedding

“Well, I’d like to apologize for anything we did that undermines the university in any way.”

“Nate. This could turn into a huge scandal, both from a sexual harassment standpoint and a—”

“I know, Dillon, but there’s something you don’t know.”

“What’s that?” he sighs.

“CJ and I are married,” Nate blurts out. I reach into his lap and thread my fingers through his, even though it’s not something Dillon Norway can see on the screen.

“Excuse me?” The look on Dillon Norway’s face shifts from being aggravated to confused.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I say. Shut up, Cecily. Let Nate handle it.

“So am I,” Nate says.

“When did this happen?”

“It’s recent,” Nate goes on. “Like I said, CJ and I have known each other for a while. We dated for a little while before the pandemic but were separated when the quarantine orders were put in place in March 2020.”

“My family’s very overbearing,” I add. “They wouldn’t let me see him because he lived in the city.”

“And then my book took off and my life got turned upside down, so I wasn’t available to date anyone.”

“And you found each other on the island?” Dillon Norway asks.

We both nod. “It was fate,” I say.

“Except she was a student, and I was a professor, and I knew the university would frown on that,” Nate adds.

“But we didn’t want to wait two years to be together,” I chime in.

“I couldn’t risk losing her again.” Here, he looks away from the screen and directly at me.

His gaze is like magic; I freeze and feel a sudden tidal wave of intense sexual energy roil through me, beginning in my throat and burning through my chest, then dropping heavily into my abdomen, and landing squarely in between my legs.

“I love her,” Nate says.

Whoa.

All I can do is swallow. I’m stuck in his eyes.

I feel him squeeze my hand, which he’s still holding, and it jolts me from my trance. Now’s your chance, girl. Earn that Emmy. I turn to Dillon Norway. “I’ve been in love with him for years, and when he proposed, I couldn’t say no.”

“We knew it was a risk to my job, and I was going to tell you first, but I just felt like it would be a lot more illicit if we weren’t married. I planned to discuss it with you before the upcoming residency, but then the television thing happened.”

“And here we are,” I interrupt.

“Here we are,” Nate echoes.

Dillon Norway leans back in his desk chair and folds his hands over his stomach. We wait quietly for him to say something. It feels like an eternity has passed before he finally emits any sound. “Hm.” He cracks his knuckles. “We’ll have to report this to HR, and there are some particulars we’ll need to pay attention to so that we don’t end up with any risks of nepotism. You’ll be able to produce a copy of the marriage license to HR, right?” He asks this with one eyebrow raised, as if he’s not one hundred percent sure he trusts us.

“Of course,” Nate responds, while I nod.

Dillon Norway sighs. “Okay. You won’t be able to have a mentorship arrangement with Nate at all throughout your time at Matthias, Cecily.”

“Of course,” I agree.

“And I can’t place you in any of his fiction workshops.”

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