JJ: Do you want a Viking warrior to sweep you off your feet? They raped and pillaged and murdered like crazy people.
Lizbeth: Not the ones I like! There were gallant ones, I’m sure.
JJ: Gallant Vikings. Riiiiight. I mean, living in the Middle Ages?
Lizbeth: Yeah, I would have sucked at that.
JJ: Would not have been pretty.
Lizbeth: Maybe that’s what romance does. It takes undesirable circumstances and makes them a little more . . . doable.
JJ: That’s your best argument so far.
21 Lizbeth
“Mark, I created some design boards for you to look at on Pinnable. They give some color schemes and a feel for what we can do with Adventura’s website,” I said the next day.
His head popped up from where he was sitting on the couch, pouring over some documents I’d eventually have to file. I leaned forward to put push Mark into this century on my list.
“Are you already working on the website?” he asked.
“Soon. I’m just prepping for it in between scanning these documents and losing all my brain cells. There’s only two boxes left.”
He grinned roguishly and stood up to skim through what was there. I angled my laptop to go through some of my ideas, but before I could explain, he nodded. “Looks good, Lizbeth.”
“But you haven’t even looked at it.”
“I have. I read ahead of you. I can already tell you have a vision for it that aligns with mine. The colors are earth tones, I like the landing page on the left you have pinned there, and you already have the URL that reflects the company name. Looks good.”
“You said part of the reason you wanted me to stay here was so you could help design the website. This could easily be done remotely.”
“Yeah, but that was before I implicitly trusted you.”
“Oh.”
“Looks good to me. Go for what you think is best.” He turned back to his work without another word.
I sat there for a second, simultaneously flattered and stumped. Mark was a classic laissez-faire leader. He hated details and just wanted to guide the general direction, which made it easy for me to work with what I knew. But I hated the lack of guidance because it left more decisions for me. Still, this would help the résumé because I could create a stunning website. The back-end work was always fun.
And I really wanted to make him proud.
“Okay,” I drawled slowly. “I can do that.”
A few more hefty stacks of paper needed to be scanned and organized onto his new cloud storage. In between waiting for the internet to upload each file, I updated my spreadsheets and my to-do list and regarded the love binder, which I’d hidden underneath the desk.
Among my general theories on romance, I’d included the point that romance may have been defined differently in the medieval period, but surely it had existed. The Lais of Marie de France and all its courtly upheaval and romantic affairs proved it.
My task list outside of work included reading other historical texts that could prove romance had always existed, which would debunk any argument that romance was a modern construct created to sell products—a debate I’d certainly won with other people before.
But not with JJ.
Before my thoughts could spiral too far down that rabbit hole, JJ walked inside. The cold had pinked his cheeks in an adorable way. My pulse beat faster.
“Hey, Lizbeth, you busy this afternoon?” he asked as he peeled off his parka.
“Just working.”
“Think you’d be interested in taking a few hours off?”
Something intriguing sparkled in his eyes when they met mine. If the afternoon involved him in any way, shape, or form, I was definitely interested. Unless it included strenuous physical activity—then I was out.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked.
“A movie. Maybe some lunch afterward.”
My heart literally pitter-pattered. Was he asking me on a date? I forced myself to act casual. “Ooh,” I said. “Which movie?”
“The Heiress.”
An excited little squeal popped out of me before I could stop it. I’d been drooling over that movie—and the gorgeous, Victorian-esque wardrobe—for weeks now. “Really?” I cried. Then my enthusiasm died. “Wait, that’s a romance.”
“I know.”
My gaze tapered. “Then why do you want to go?”
“Call it curiosity,” he said. “It’s been at least eight years since I’ve seen one. I’d like to try it again.”
“And then debate with me?”
He grinned. “You got it.”
Unfortunately, I couldn’t resist those mossy eyes or that bright smile. Watching a romance movie with JJ? Heck yes. I’d always been a sucker for hearty banter, and we had it in spades.
Mark waved a hand. “Go for it if you want,” he said before I could check with him. “I need a little peace and quiet around here.”
JJ held out a hand with his usual smile. “Let’s go. Next showing starts in an hour.”
“Number one rule,” I whispered as we sat down in the cool, dark theater. “You have to be honest. No softening it.”
He made an X over his heart. “Promise.”
“Great. I’ll give you a summary.”
“Doesn’t that ruin the movie?”
“Not for a romance! When you start a romance, you always know how it ends. The Heiress is about a princess named Elody who inherits the crown unexpectedly. Her older brother was always slated for the position, but he dies, along with her parents, in a plane crash. Not only is Elody devastated, but she now has to lead her country.”
“Naturally.”
I shot him a glare that made him grin. He gestured for me to continue. On the towering screen, the opening credits began to roll, with a little splash of violin in the background.
“Her parents’ adviser, a severe man named D’artagnan, is tasked with helping her transition into the position. Foibles ensue as she attempts to ascend to a role that was never supposed to be hers to begin with.”
“Did you just say foibles?” he asked.
“My vocabulary is extensive.”
“I
