Page 3 of Her Inconvenient Wedding Date

My sole reason for coming to work each day, other than to write awesome code and earn a paycheck, is to be relevant in Lily’s world. Out of all the guys she works with, I want to be the one who stays on her mind. Leave an impression, beat out the competition, and win her heart—that’s basically my three-step game plan. As for my progress, let’s just say I’m still working on step one. Whether the impression is good or bad is yet to be determined.

“I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet,” I tease her. “Any other guesses?”

“Sh! Don’t rush me.” Her eyes brighten as she exclaims, “It’s your shirt. It’s a shade darker than you usually wear. I’m right, aren’t I?”

I chuckle and shake my head. My wardrobe is as neutral and simple as Lily’s is colorful and stylish. “Good guess, but this is the same gray as all my other shirts. Try again.”

Making myself at home on the edge of her desk, I do my own onceover and take in her beauty. Her hair is wavy today—my favorite look on her—and she has on a no-makeup makeup look that surprisingly takes the same length of time to do as a with-makeup makeup look. Go figure, right? She’s wearing an essential black tee and a pink wraparound skirt with a ruffle hem. I give myself a virtual pat on the back for knowing all the right terms. Before Lily, I never paid attention to fashion, and I had no idea a difference existed between boyfriend jeans and jeans worn by boyfriends. But after watching her beauty and style videos for the past year, I’ve come to appreciate her knowledge and expertise as a part-time social media influencer. Thanks to her and the powersof snail mucin, my skin has never looked better. But that’s not what’s different about me today.

“Need a hint?” I ask, not bothering to hide my smug smile. It’s rare for Lily to be at a loss for words, and even rarer for me to be the reason why. If only I could take her breath away with my dashing good looks or charming personality, like the guys in those romance books she has hidden behind her monitors. Alas, the only sighs I seem to elicit are ones of exasperation.

She throws up her hands and shrugs. “I give up! What is it? What did you do differently today?”

I touch the index finger and thumb of each of my hands together, then place the makeshift circles over my eyes. As soon as I do this, Lily’s jaw drops. Her complexion pales, then pinkens like she’s a chameleon trying to blend in with her cubicle decor. She stares at me, unblinking and unspeaking for a long time. So long that I’m tempted to take out the bagel from my back pocket and offer it to her.

I wave my hand in front of her face and wonder what her reaction means. “Lily? Are you okay?”

She snaps out of her trance and nods, her eyes still wide. “Y-yeah.”

I immediately notice how dilated her pupils are. Great, I’ve shocked her so much with this new look of mine, she’s now under stress. I don’t need further proof that I made a terrible mistake wearing contacts today. With my hands raised, I begin backing out of her cubicle slowly. “This was obviously a bad idea. I’ll go put my glasses back on?—”

“What? No!” she exclaims. Using her pointer finger, she makes an imaginary circle in front of my eyes. “Don’t do that. You look fine. I mean, more than fine. I just wasn’t expecting this whole Clark Kent-Superman switcheroo deal.”

My ears perk up as I sit back down. “Superman? You think I look like Superman?”

“I did not say that. What I mean is that I didn’t think glasses, or the lack of glasses, would make such a big difference for you.”

“In a good or bad way? Feel free to elaborate,” I remark casually. I’m not fishing for compliments—okay, maybe I am—but Lily’s the most fashionable person I know, so her opinion means a lot to me. If you couldn’t tell by now,shemeans a lot to me. “Do you think I look better with glasses or contacts?”

“Contacts,” she answers without hesitation. “Not that you look bad with glasses. I just never realized how blue your eyes are. You can see them better when you wear contacts.”

“Yeah? Good to know.” I file this piece of information away in the virtual RAM—that’s Random Access Memory—part of my brain. My memory storage of all things Lily Lam has been growing the more I’ve gotten to know her. Fortunately, she’s pretty much an open book and usually says whatever’s on her mind. For some reason, though, she seems to be holding back today. Her eye contact is off, making me wonder if she really likes this new look or if she’s just being nice. In case it’s the latter, I try to play it off like I couldn’t care less. “It’s not a big deal either way. I’m just trying them out to see if they’re comfortable. Can you believe it took me 35 years to get my first pair of contacts? I’ve always had this irrational fear that they’d get stuck to my eyeballs and I wouldn’t be able to take them out.”

“Oh, that’s not irrational. It’s happened to me plenty of times when I accidentally fell asleep with them in.”

A chill travels down my spine. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Her phone suddenly vibrates, pulling her attention away. “Sorry, I need to check this text real quick.”

I grit my teeth as Lily leaves me on the brink of suspense—quite literally. My fingers grip the edge of her deskwhere I’m sitting and trying my best not to fall off. Her last statement keeps bouncing around in my head like the ball in a pinball machine, making all sorts of lights go off. I force my eyes to dart from the left to the right, then up and down and all around. By the time Lily sets her phone down, I’ve established a fast tempo like that of a classic rock song.

“Hunter?” she asks cautiously. “What are you doing?”

“I’m keeping my eyes moving so the contacts don’t have a chance of getting stuck.”

Her laughter fills the space between us. “You have a bit of Clark Kent in you even without the glasses. It’s good to know you’re still the same Hunter Payne inside.”

I pause my ocular aerobics to focus on her smile. “Did you just give me a compliment, Lil?”

She rolls her eyes again, something she does anytime I use the nickname I gave her. “You know it’s an oxymoron to call me little when I’m the size of a giant.”

“Not to me, you’re not.”

She suddenly gasps as she grabs her phone and starts typing. “I can’t believe I forgot to ask how tall he is! I don’t know if I can wear heels or not.”

My mood quickly tanks when I realize Lily’s talking about a guy. Could she possibly have a date?! “How tall who is?”

“The guy my sister set me up on a blind date with. I don’t mind if he’s shorter than me; I just don’t know if he minds me being so tall.” She glances up, sighing. “You wouldn’t understand. Women love guys who are tall, dark, and handsome. But men? They all want cute and dainty girls who can practically fit in their pocket. That’s so not me.”

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