Page 29 of The Wedding Crush

Not to date or have sex with, but to befriend me.

He wants to study our interactions to gather data from which he’ll use to theorize some ridiculous hypothesis and test the results.

Every inch of me burns with humiliation.

This man doesn’t even know me. He’s never spent any real time with me, or else he’d know age doesn’t equate to life experience.

What is nine years in the grand scheme of strife?

“Listen, Ace needs me, so I’m going to run now.” Guilt consumes me the second the lie is out. “I’ll check in with you later, but will you send me Stefano’s contact information? That way, I can send out the ChatVideo invite to everyone before we meet on Monday.”

“Damn, I’m such an idiot.” Morgan pauses, and I sense she’s scrambling. “Should I not have told you? I mean, I didn’t want to upset you. He had no solid reasons, and Dante shut him down. It was so obvious Stefano didn’t want to admit to his attraction, so he projected his anxieties as a divorced man onto Dante.”

“No, I’m good.”

Except, even as the words roll off my tongue, I feel myself slipping into business mode because this is what I do.

I hold it together.

I make decisions with everyone’s best interest in mind. I set responsible examples and take my duties seriously. I worry, so they don’t have to.

“Seriously, I thought we’d laugh at their warped thought process…” She breaks off. “Are you really good?”

I’m not.

But because I’m hearing this secondhand, damn right, I’m going to let this fuel my fire to prove him wrong.

“Great, actually,” I say.

CHAPTER SIX

Stefano

Here’s the wildestthing about life.

Mine has been about learning and climbing, always reaching for the next rung.

I’ve got decades of experience in management and winemaking. I know the vast, fascinating history of my family’s vineyard grounds. From the acres of soil to every vine ribboning its way to the table. I was top of my class in business school. After twelve years of marriage, I knew my ex-wife’s preference for yellow Starbursts. From her yawn/moan alone, I knew when she was up for more than sleep in our bed.

Used to know.

If the answers were in a book—or a podcast or audiobook—I could study and learn the ins and outs, read the details of processes and people.

But no one ever told me, book smarts and lived experience were mutually exclusive.

No one ever said, my story was interactive. That, all it takes is one setback to change the entire trajectory of my life. That on chapter forty-five, there’d be an unsolicited plot twist.

Instead of rebuilding after the storm, and finding my new normal, no I’m not doing that… No, suddenly, I’m spending my lunch, in a ChatVideo waiting room, bracing myself for an introductory shotgun-wedding-planning session with Dante, Morgan, and a woman with the dual superpower to get under my skin and remind me that I’m still a man with fire burning in my loins.

Jesus.

At least, I won’t be alone with her.

Under my desk, my nerves work their way from the soles of my feet up through my bouncing knees.

Rubbing my sweaty hands down my pants legs to steady them, I close my eyes and pull in a long breath through my nose before I release it slowly from my mouth.

“This is no big deal. It’s just like Dante said. Be receptive. Read her vibes. She doesn’t know it’s been a year since you’ve had sex.”

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