Two days later, Wolf and I are face to face again, this time without any element of surprise. It's weird seeing him so soon after our last impromptu face-to-face, but I convince myself that building up a tolerance to him before I actually, God forbid, marry him, would be a good thing.
He looks bored and plays with his phone, casting surreptitious glances at me every so often as if to ask what are we waiting for? The answer would be: my lawyer.
"This guy is really unprofessional," he finally comments, finger pausing in mid-slide over the screen of his phone. "We've been waiting"âhe glances downâ"almost ten minutes".
"He texted me a few minutes ago to say he was running late," I respond, not looking up from my Excel spreadsheet. In front of me is the Holy Grail - every possible thing I could wish to know about my clients, right down to their medical history and favorite TV show.
I zero in on Liza Donoghue's name. Liza's standards are high and her sex appeal is low - in other words, it's the perfect job for Dash. They have a lunch date planned for this afternoon, and even though Dash is confident in his ability to woo and impress her, I remain a little doubtful. Liza's exacting and Dash's charm and good looks notwithstanding, she's going to be more than a match for him.
"Everything okay?"
I glance up, surprised to see Wolf staring me.
"It's just, you're staring at that thing," he says, waving a hand at my Mac.
I try to relax my face. My face must have looked strained, I realize as I wheel my chair back a few inches. My eyes burn a little, so I decrease the brightness of the screen. "I'm fine. Just doing some work."
"Hooking people up?"
"Not hooking," I stress. "Matchmaking. It's precise and scientific." Since he doesn't look undeterred, I elaborate. "A difficult client has a lunch date in about an hour that really, really needs to go well."
"Isn't it kind of weird she wanted a lunch date?" Wolf asks, setting his phone on my desk. He leans back in his chair, contemplative.
"Not really. Should it be?"
"Depends on her job. Most offices wouldn't let their employees take off a whole hour for lunch."
"Oh." My brow creases. Liza works for a magazine as a copy editor. Nothing glamorous, but maybe she's senior enough that she can take a long lunch hour if she wants. "Maybe she just wanted something quick, in case it didn't work out." That's a little dismaying; she's been a pretty good client. If this latest date doesn't pan out, I'm going to lose her.
"Maybe." He shrugs and glances at my hand, seeming to notice the ring for the first time. "Is that a...?" he asks, clearly at a loss as to why there should be a wedding band on my ring finger.
"It's for the clients. No one trusts a matchmaker who's still single."
"So who do they think your mystery husband is?" he asks, intrigued.
I can tell that he's interested by the way he leans forward, just slightly, head cocked like he really cares about my answer. His eyes are bright and beseeching, and he barely blinks at all.
"It remains a mystery," I reply, smiling. "I tell them that I don't like to talk about my personal life when I'm at work."
"Smooth," he congratulates, a broad grin slipping over his face. His mouth opens, about to ask me something else, but then there's a sharp knock on my door. Three successive, evenly spaced knocks.
Before I can call out "Come in!", the door opens and in walks my lawyer. The years have been gracious to him, allowing the gangly youth to morph into the sophisticated man before me today. His suit and pants are ironed into sharp corners and lines, his briefcase and shoes are made of the finest Italian leather, and there's still the vague scent of a Brooks Brothers store lingering on his shirt. Only the slightly crooked tie gives him away - he's not as grown-up as he looks.
"Xander's your lawyer?" Wolf gapes, dumbfounded.
"Obviously, van der Waals," Xander drawls, walking into the room with a casual elegance he lacked five years ago. "Should have thought that was obvious, man. I am a lawyer, you know."
The two men shake hands in a weirdly formal, manly-man way and then it's right down to business. "You two are idiots," Xander proclaims the moment he sits down in the chair next to Wolf. Without waiting for a response from either one of us, he pops open his briefcase and withdraws the contract. "Charlotte's already looked it over and signed. Now it just needs your signature."
Wolf, still looking a little peeved that I didn't tell him our mutual best friend was my lawyer, makes a huffy sigh and reaches into the inner breast pocket of his suit. He pulls out a gold ink pen, which he uncaps with a flourish, and dangles between his fingers. "Show me where."
"Don't you want to read it?" I interject, my tone shocked. He's a businessman, surely he knows the importance of reading anything before he signs on the dotted line.
"I trust you," he says, not looking up from the contract Xander proffers. Without batting an eye, Wolfram signs his name with a quick scrawl, the pen scratching the surface with each stroke.
Does he give his trust away so easily, now? I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from saying anything. It's too bad that he wasn't as free with his trust five years ago when he and his sister all but accused me of being a shameless gold-digger.
"There." His pen vanishes into his pocket and he gives me a serene smile.
I don't know what I expect, but the moment our two signatures are side by side, it feels like something momentous should have happened. Fireworks, a parade, bolts of lightning...instead, the three of us just stare at it, as if we're all flummoxed by the total lack of monumental outpour.
"I know we're not getting married for real," I say finally, "but I expected something a little..."
"A little less anti-climactic," Wolfram agrees, looking vaguely perturbed. "I thought it would be different, too."
Even Xander looks like he doesn't know what to say. "I can still rip them up," he offers, but his voice carries a tone of resignation, like he knows it's an offer neither Wolf nor I will accept.
I have to admit, for a moment, I'm tempted. It would be so easy to reach out and rip the paper into satisfying shreds, watching as Wolf's hope dwindles in front of me. It would be the perfect aha! sucker! moment to pay him back.
"I feel like 'Dear Future Husband' should be playing in the background or something," I joke, chagrined when neither Wolf nor Xander crack a smile. "Seriously?" I raise an eyebrow. "You guys have got to get out more."
"Speaking," Xander says, "of getting out, would you guys be free for dinner this weekend?"
"Sure," I say at the exact moment Wolf says, "We'll have to check."
"Ahem." I clear my throat. "Just because we're pseudo-engaged does not mean that we make team decisions. I am me and not a we. Got it?"
The nerve of this guy, sheesh. Thinking I'll actually be consulting him on my dinner plans.
"Well, Charlotte," Wolf says, and I kind of hate that tone of patronizing patience in his voice, "I was just thinking that we might need the weekend for moving."
"Where are you moving?" Xander asks, glancing between me and Wolf in confusion.
Wolf raises an eyebrow at me in challenge.
Oh hell no.
"I," I stress flatly, "am not going anywhere."
"You can't keep living with"âhe looks disdainful, like he can't even bring himself to say the nameâ"him."
"Levi?" Xander gapes. His eyes swivel to me. "Why can't she?"
"This is a fake marriage, Wolf." I jut my chin out obstinately, clenching my jaw. "I'm not leaving my home just to stroke your ego."
"You'll have to live with me when we get married, anyway," Wolf argues. "Doesn't it make more sense to get to know each other first?"
"Isn't there a statistic that proves that people who co-inhabit before marriage are twice as likely to get divorced?" Triumphant, I fold my arms over my chest and give him a shit-eating grin.
"All the more reason to move in with me, then," he says, smirking as he realizes how I've backed myself into a corner.
Shit. I only said that to get out of moving in with him. Instead, I've invalidated my own argument. "No can do, babydoll," I sing-song, refusing to back down. "I'm not living with you and that is final."
"Char?"
I glance at Xander, who has tentatively said my name with a look on his face like he's bracing for my wrath. "Yeah?"
"Maybe"âhe hesitatesâ"it wouldn't be such a bad idea." He glances at Wolf. "I know he's an ass, but he actually makes a good point."
"Thanks, bro," Wolf deadpans, slinging an arm around Xander's shoulders. "I love you, too."
Xander rolls his eyes. "Shut up, you know you're an ass," he says before turning his imploring, cocker spaniel eyes at me. "If you're going to actually go through with this asinine plan, you may as well learn how to live together without killing each other."
Normally, I would weigh Xander's words carefully before coming to any decision, but right now the thought of leaving my beautiful home and Levi's company to be stuck with Wolf for the next three months before getting married? No way. Nope. Not happening.
"You're probably cramping Levi's lifestyle, anyway," Wolf says, his eyes steely. "It can't be easy bringing girls around when you're there."
"We've never had a problem with it before," I bite out, scowling ferociously at his handsome, no, scratch that, moronic face.
"Lawyer," Wolf whines. "Mediate."
"I'm her lawyer, not yours," Xander replies, his words ending on a laugh. "As her friend and client, it would behoove me not to get between you guys in this particular battle of wills."
"Smart man," I comment, giving Wolf an I-win-you-lose smile.
"Anyway, I was thinking it would be nice if we all got together this weekend," says Xander, stuffing things back into his briefcase. "It's been a while since you've come around and Graeme misses you."
I wince. The truth is, Graeme has toned down a lot over the years, but we're still not exactly kosher. Ever since she and Xander moved in together, it's impossible for me to go to his place without her hanging around like a third wheel. And since she's the girlfriend, it actually makes me the third wheel, which is a whole new level of awkward that I don't feel like dealing with. Xander either comes to Levi's place or we meet for lunch at whichever new joint opens up nearby - usually a calorie-loaded burger or wing place that Graeme wouldn't be caught dead in. It works out because I need to eat anyway, and Xander needs to cheat on whatever latest diet kick Graeme is trying to convince him to join her on.
"I'll be there," I reply reluctantly. "Where?"
"I'll text you the details. It's the new Italian place on 5th, I think."
"I'll be there, too," Wolf says. "In fact, why don't I pick you up, Charlotte?"
Since I refused to move in with him, I figure that letting him pick me up is the least I can do. "Fine," I say, trying hard not to sound ungracious.
"And bring Levi," Xander adds, probably crushing Wolf's dreams of turning his picking me up into a date.
"Why?" Wolf doesn't even bother to hide the scowl that spreads over his face. His cheeks have puffed mutinously, and his naturally berry-stained lips are pinched together in a childish frown. He looks like a little blond gremlin, and as much as I want to share this with Xander, somehow I don't think Wolf would appreciate the comparison much.
"It's been a while since we've all hung out," Xander replies, but it's falling flat.
"What's going on?" I ask suspiciously.
"Is my sister pregnant?" Wolf demands, his scowl becoming even more pronounced. "Is that why you want us all there?"
"No!" Xander exclaims, hands raising in the air, the stereotypical surrender gesture. Which is a good thing, because best friends or not, Wolf would probably punch him.
Wolf relaxes, but only marginally. Frown still in place, he asks imperiously, "Then why the hell are you being so cryptic, Xand?"
"Because I asked her to marry me and she said yes!" Xander blurts out, the words slurring together in his haste.
In unison, Wolf's mouth drops open while my eyebrows shoot up. "What?" we yelp together.
I recover faster and immediately round the corner of my desk, throwing my arms around Xander. "Oh my god, that's amazing! When did it happen? Why didn't you tell me? Do you have a date picked out?" Rapid-fire, my questions shoot out, and despite the fact that I'm probably overwhelming him, he just chuckles warmly and returns my exuberant hug.
"The night before you told me about Wolf's proposal," Xander reveals. "It was pretty spur of the moment and I still don't have a ring, but...yeah. This is actually happening."
"If I know my sister, she'll want to pick it out herself," Wolf says with a grin.
I catch his eye and we share a mutual grin. Xander has good taste, but it veers on the understated. Subtlety is not Graeme's strong suit. She'll have grand aspirations when it comes to the ring, I'm sure.
"Congratulations." Wolf stands and extends his hand to Xander, sincerity coating the word. With genuine warmth in his eyes, he clasps Xander's hand in his, shaking with vigor before he envelops him in a crushing bear-hug.
The show of affection startles both Xander and myself, but after only a fraction of a moment, Xander's back relaxes and he wraps his arms around Wolf in return. "Thanks, man."
Even though the bride-to-be is Graeme, I can't help but feel rushing excitement in my veins for Xander. In a world where all my high school and college friends have surpassed me in terms of marriage and babies, not necessarily in that order, Xander's engagement is the first in which I feel personally invested. I wonder if I should feel jealousâwould married life change my relationship with him?âbut I can't be selfish with him. He loves Graeme and I love Xander. It's that simple.
"So you'll both be there, right?" Xander squints intensely into both our eyes, trying to derive a promise from us. He raises his pointer finger in the air. "On time." Another finger goes up. "Smiling." Now a third. "Without a word of your fake engagement."
"Believe me, Xand, I'm not rushing to publicize this marriage," I promise. "As far as the world knows, I'm already married." I hold up my hand, the wedding band glinting as it catches the sunlight streaming in through the window blinds.
"Pretty sure a fake engagement wouldn't trump a real one, anyway," Wolf says wryly.
"Graeme won't have her thunder stolen," I vow. "She won't hear a peep out of me."
If only I knew how wrong I would be.
Author's Note: Hey guys! Another chapter of AMOC, here for your reading pleasure :) I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It reintroduces one of my favorite characters, Xander! :) Did you like the changes in all our characters? Our little babies have all grown up!
The only one left to meet is Graeme...when we last left her, she was trying to get a high-level job with her dad's company, but was shot down. Any theories as to what you think her current occupation is? More importantly, how do you think she'll react when she finds out about Wolfram and Charlotte?
Thank you for reading. Please don't forget to vote and/or comment. I really appreciate it :) Constructive feedback is also welcomed! Please don't be shy :)