“There’s nothing to tell. Langdon won’t take no for an answer, and Father is making it worse by pushing him at me for every function. The truth is I could use a few days away.” Aiylin sighs and tosses her strawberry blonde waves over her shoulder.
“I see. Have you tried telling Langdon that you aren’t interested in marrying him?” Mena asks.
“Every time he starts to hint or ask, I tell him the same thing, Mena. We aren’t suited. I have no romantic interest in him. We only had one date,” she jumps up and starts pacing. “You know I’m honest to a fault. I’ve tried not to hurt his feelings, but he won’t listen.”
Mena watches with a frown. “You’ve never truly met anyone who lives up to your expectations, Aiylin. Have you considered that you may be judging him harshly?” she asks.
“Not everyone is as lucky as you, Mena.” Tears fill her eyes, her voice is hoarse with unshed tears, “Patrick adores you, and the two of you can barely keep your hands off each other. I want what you have. Would you wish any less for your sister?” Aiylin demands.
“Of course not,” she jumps up and rushes to her.
“Mena, I’ve asked myself a thousand times what is wrong with me. I’ve dated men, but it feels wrong to lead someone on if I don’t feel anything. I don’t want to settle, not when I’ve seen what true love looks like. Our parents have been married for almost forty years.”
“I know Aiylin. Nothing is wrong with you! You just haven’t met the right person.” Neither says what they are thinking, that she’s twenty-two and her time is running short.
“Papa has no problem telling me all my shortcomings. Mama has long since given up hope of me making a suitable match. I love working at the factory, but he wants a male heir to pass his legacy on too. Unfortunately, that will be up to you and Patrick,” Aiylin laughs when her sister blushes.
“You say the most outrageous things!” Mena says, pulling her in for a hug. “I promise once I’m married to do everything in my power to help you find your soul mate.”
“Right now, concentrate on your wedding and enjoy your honeymoon. My lunch break is over. I should get back to work.”
Mena walks her to the door. “Friday, plan for the day off. I will have everything arranged. Patrick will pick you up early so that you can meet the train. His mother is supposed to drop me off. We will simply jump ride to Harrisonburg and after the wedding you will take the train to Nazareth.”
“I’m glad I get to be with you and Patrick for your wedding.” She hugs her sister goodbye.
“Me too.”
Chapter 3
Aiylin takes a deep breath before walking into her father’s office. A sharp knock and he calls out for her to come in.
“Here are the files you asked for,” Aiylin says, smiling at him bent over his desk. He’s so handsome. Large, blonde and bearded, her mother liked to joke that his German bloodlines made him so. She walks to his side and glances down at the drawing on his desk.
“What do you think?” he asks, tapping his pencil on his glasses, a nervous habit she has long since gotten used to. Charles Francis Miller inherited the CF Miller workshop from his father becoming the president at a mere forty-eight years old. His Miller guitars were custom, one of a kind pieces of art, that sold for an extraordinary amount of money.
Ten years after inheriting, they were able to go from workshop to a factory. The original designs were still handmade, just on a larger scale.
Aiylin leans over and hands her father the files to take a closer look. She traces her fingers lovingly over the shape, “It’s lovely, what kind of wood were you thinking of using?”
“Mahogany,” he answers, and she whips her head up to look at him.
“Truly? We only use that for the neck. The tone would be…” she stops talking and smiles. “Oh, the tone would be deep.”
“Exactly!” he grins. “I started carving last night.”
“That’s exciting. I can’t wait to play it. The finish will be unique, but do you think they will sell?”
“I don’t see why not. People like to see something new and Miller’s…”
“Millers innovate,” she sings, plucking the stack of paper back and walks over to a cabinet. Aiylin pulls a drawer open and begins sorting them into order, dropping the papers into files. “I’m going to take tomorrow off to help Mena with her wedding plans.”
“Oh?” He’s distracted and sketching. “That’s fine. Your mother and I are going out of town for the weekend. I promised her a trip to Harrisonburg for some shopping. We decided to make a weekend of it. You’ll have the house to yourself. You should spend some time with Langdon.”
Aiylin looks over and finds him staring at her. “Umm, no thank you. Dad, I know you have hopes for him, but Langdon Barnett isn’t for me. Please, stop pushing him at me,” she pleads.
He sighs and walks over to her. “I understand that you think…”
“No,” she snaps. “You aren’t listening! I don’t know how many times I have to say it. I’m not interested in him.” He blanches at her tone. She’s never raised her voice before.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Aiylin. Perhaps you should take the rest of the week off.” He suggests and walks away to get back to his design.
“I think that’s a good idea.” Aiylin drops the files on top of the cabinet and walks over to the design. “I think it would be lovely to see some inlay details around here,” she
