Page 14 of Marry Me Tomorrow
And another.
Niall: Hey mate, seems like someone’s been holding out at game nights. Let’s all get together tonight and you can fill us in on your fiancée.
And another.
Holly: Do you already have a baker for the wedding? If not, I’m doing your cake on the house. Just say the word.
Ping after ping lights up my phone, a relentless flurry of messages from friends and family. I swipe to silence it, but then turn it off entirely. Yep, Mom’s already telling everyone about my supposed engagement.
I really need to talk to Jenny.
Chapter 6
Jenny
I avoid Trent for the rest of the day. My nerves are jangling like loose change in a dryer. I linger with customers longer than necessary, listening to all kinds of stories or chatting about the weather as though it were the most interesting topic in the world. When Trent comes into the shop, I dart out with a forced smile and a flimsy excuse.
“Just checking on this cabin,” I say, my voice an octave higher than usual.
I don’t know what came over me this morning, blurting out that Trent and I were engaged. This isn’t how I wanted that conversation to go. And I really hope I still have a job—and a place to live—after all this. Oh, Jenny, what in the world got into you?
The sun dips below the horizon, painting the marina in hues of gold and lavender. The store is quiet now, the buzz of the day fading into the stillness of evening. I finish wiping down the counter after closing up, the sharp, citrusy scent of lemon cleaner clinging to the air. The cool dampness of the cloth soothes my overworked hands as I hum to myself, trying to focus on the simple task and not on what my mouth said this morning.
I turn to check the aisles, making sure everything is in its place for tomorrow morning, but come to an abrupt halt. Trent stands in my path, his arms crossed over his chest. His face is unreadable, but the steady rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes hints at his calm resolve.
“We need to talk,” he says, his voice steady but firm, each word cutting through the quiet like a blade.
I gulp, twisting the damp rag in my hands until water seeps between my fingers. “Well, I still need to do one last check on the aisles before I’m done for the night,” I say, my voice wobbling.
“That can wait—fiancée.”
“Right, about that . . .”
Trent’s expression remains neutral. “Is the lodge door locked?”
“Oh, um, yes,” I stammer, my heart thudding in my chest.
“Okay. Let’s go talk in my office.” He turns without waiting for a response, and his footsteps are firm and deliberate on the wooden floor, each one echoing in my ears like a drumbeat of inevitability.
Right, I guess that solves this mystery. I’m totally fired.
I follow him, my pulse quickening with every step. His office is neat but lived-in, with a faint scent of cedar and paper. The soft glow of a desk lamp illuminates scattered papers and two wingback chairs across from a desk and a well-worn leather chair.
He sits in one of the wingback chairs, its dark leather inviting, and gestures for me to join him. I hesitate, but his patient gaze nudges me forward. Sinking into the chair, I feel the cool leather press against my arms.
Before I can stop myself, words spill out in a rush, my voice tumbling over itself. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me this morning. I just heard your mom talking—well, I wasn’t trying to listen in, but I did, so I’m sorry about that too. I shouldn’t have told her we were engaged, when clearly, we aren’t. It’s just that what you told me about the marina and needing to be married had been on my mind, and when I heard her, I just—”
“Jenny,” Trent says, holding up a hand, “take a breath and stop.” His voice is calm, but there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes that surprises me. “I know you weren’t serious about the engagement. It’s maybe not the funniest joke to play on my mom, and she has already started spreading the rumor that we’re engaged. So we’re going to need to come up with a plan to explain all of this.”
“So . . . you’re not firing me?” I ask.
“What?” Trent pauses, then shakes his head. “No, I’m not firing you. It took me months to fill your position. And the regulars love you. There’s no way I’m letting you go.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m so grateful I still have a job and a place to live. And now that I know I’ll be at the marina for the foreseeable future, I have to tell Trent the truth. “Thank you, Trent, for letting me keep this job, but I do have to tell you that when I told your mom we were engaged, I wasn’t joking. I was being serious.”
“Serious?” Trent looks at me like I have two heads. “What are you talking about, Jenny? We are not engaged.”
“I know. I know. I shouldn’t have told your mom without talking to you first.”
