Maddie lifted her chin and took stock of the situation across the room. “Looks like a nearly even split to me. And remember our conversation just last week? The one where we talked about compromise? Do you think I like having to watch half of Cole’s shows each Friday night?”
Gabby hadn’t considered something as simple as this.
“I don’t enjoy it any more than he likes all the cooking contests I watch,” Maddie said with a shrug. “But I do like the company, and that’s what it’s really all about, right? Otherwise… Well, if you want life completely on your terms, then you’re better off alone.”
Better off alone? Gabby couldn’t even believe her cousin would say such a thing, and to her of all people, who decorated weddings and devoured all things romance more than Saint Valentine himself.
She plucked two napkins from the stack and said nothing more as she went back to the table.
“I brought you a napkin,” she said, sliding it over his stack of contracts. She didn’t want to see the names on the files, didn’t need to see whose dreams had shattered.
“How thoughtful!” His grin was coy.
“I consider myself a thoughtful person,” she said matter-of-factly. “It’s why I’m so well suited for my job. Sometimes it’s the little details that make the most difference.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Doug said.
She looked at him in surprise. “Really?”
He nodded firmly. “It’s the little details that are the most overlooked, in my experience. Most couples are so busy focusing on the big picture that they aren’t noticing the small things that will end up becoming big deals in the end, like she didn’t know that he was a teeth grinder, or he didn’t know that she always has to shower before breakfast.”
“That sounds very petty,” Gabby said flatly, and then, thinking back to her recent conversations with her cousin felt herself twitch. She pursed her mouth and sat up straighter. “I hardly believe that people end their marriages over…nuisances.”
“Not directly, but it all has to reach a tipping point at some point. There’s a reason why the percentage of couples who can’t make it ’til death do they part is so high.”
“I like to think that there’s someone out there for everyone,” she said, refusing to be pulled down by his cynicism.
“So you said.” His look again told her that he wasn’t buying into it.
“Obviously for every couple that doesn’t make it, another does.” She clung to the thought of her family members, who had weathered the tough times, laughed through the good ones. “You just have to be sure that you’re marrying the right person.”
“And is that why you’re still single?” he countered.
She sniffed, refusing to take it personally. “I am holding out for the right person, yes.”
He raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he took a sip of his coffee. The silence that stretched between them made her grind back on her teeth.
“I get the impression that you think otherwise?”
He set his coffee mug down on the table. “I just think that most people believe they are marrying Mr. or Mrs. Right on their wedding day, when in fact, they are very sorely wrong.”
He waved some papers in the air and he let that soak in, which she had to admit, she couldn’t find a rebuttal for, but she would in time, oh, she most definitely would.
“And this is where I come into play. Prenuptial agreement. Every single person should have one before they say those two magic words. I do.” He grinned, and she felt her eyes narrow.
“Tell me, what is it that has you so against the idea of everlasting love?”
“Easy,” he said with a shrug. “It’s a fantasy.” He tapped on her book cover, which she pulled back defensively, holding it to her chest. So it might have a prince on the cover. The heroine was a commoner! “People like the fairy tale. Make an entire business out of it. The gown. The shoes. The shows. The books.” He picked up his mug again and paused. “The flowers.”
Well, that did it. “And does this theory of yours come from personal experience or just your professional experience?”
“Both,” he said, surprising her.
She blinked at him, wondering what he even meant by that, and then deciding that it didn’t matter. The man was an anti-hero, no grand gestures here, no sweeping overtures, certainly no simple, thoughtful acts as small and sweet as giving a flower. And she wasn’t going to waste another minute of her precious time on him.
The world was full of men, better looking than him, too. Those deep-set eyes? Eh. Okay, yes, appealing, but really, overrated. Yes, quite overrated, along with that devilish grin he was now giving her.
She realized with a newfound fury that he was enjoying this!
Composing herself as best she could, she calmly placed—well, shoved—her book into her bag, set her napkin over her brownie, and wrapped it up quickly. “I just realized that I have an appointment, so the table is all yours.”
“Shame,” he said. “I was starting to enjoy the company.”
She set the wrapped brownie on top of her book and looped the handles of her bag over her shoulder. “The company or the banter?”
“Was that what it was? Either way, it was like old times.”
There was that phrase again.
“Yes, well, old times are often better left in the past.” She stood, eager to leave, but found herself off-kilter, not knowing exactly what to say before she finally departed from the table once and for all.
Across the room she saw Maddie watching her over the table, giving her one of those wide-eyed stares that made it clear she was growing quickly exasperated by Gabby’s refusal to just fall in love and marry whichever random Joe came along or commented on the weather!
No, this little debate had confirmed it. There were the right guys and there were the wrong guys, and Maddie happened to have just found a good one on her first try.
“I’d tell you
