Save the Date! (4 page)

At seven o'clock that evening, Gemma took a seat across from
Dixon at the dining table, while her father sat at the head of the table, and her mother sat across from him. Why was Code Blue here at dinner with her anyways, especially since he had been with her for practically the entire day? The nerve of the man. He did realize he was
pretending
, didn't he?

"Thank you so much for coming," Carlene said, throwing a beaming smile in
Dixon's direction and clasping her hands together. It took everything in Gemma to make sure that she didn't roll her eyes. Of
course,
her mother would invite this guy to dinner. Couples planning weddings didn't spend every single day together. Couldn't they breathe for just a little bit? "I wanted to talk about the wedding, of course."

Dixon said nothing but nodded his head
.  He was a man of few words.

Gemma hid a grin behind her hand and instead, focused on the food that had recently been placed in front of her.
Pasta. Yum. She didn't give a damn if they were carbs; Gemma would probably never give up pasta. Or bread. If she had to, she could probably give up donuts and pizza…
maybe
. But never pasta. Or bread. She reached over and sprinkled a slight amount of parmesan cheese on her pasta, frowning slightly. Well, if she could cut back on cheese, she could give up pizza and donuts.

"Right," her mother continued, completely ignoring the food that was placed in front of her, and instead focused on a large planner. There were magazine clippings and newspaper articles, pictures and food recipes, and an assortment of lists. Carlene absolutely loved lists. "Well, I have everything planned out for the two of you." She was quite excited as she rustled through the papers, causing a faint blush to touch her cheeks.

Wasn't her mother aware that this wasn't a
real
wedding? Gemma would never
choose
to marry Code Blue, out of all the options she had in front of her. She was twenty, for goodness' sake. She shouldn't be worried about marrying some guy, she should be out dating around.

"Mom," Gemma hastily interrupted. "You are aware that I start school next week, right? It might get a bit harder to plan this whole… shindig…"

"Shindig?" Dixon asked, arching his brow as he regarded the young woman sitting across from him.

"It means –" Gemma tried to explain, but
Dixon cut her off in a brisk manner.

"I know what it means," he told her shortly, his blue eyes staring into hers. "I just thought it quite interesting
, your choice of word."

Gemma scowled at him and decided to focus on the food in front of her. Trust
him
to criticize the way she spoke.  For a redneck from the south, he used a lot of big words.  Who was this guy anyways?

"Yes, honey," Carlene said with a very slight dismissive tone, her eyes focused on the notes scrawled in her near-perfect handwriting. "I know you start school soon, but we can juggle. It's absolutely imperative that the two of you take pictures."

"Mom, we already took pictures today," Gemma reminded her mother before taking a long sip of her milk.

"Not professional pictures," Carlene said, glancing up at her daughter with an enigmatic look, as though maybe she should have known she had meant professional pictures.
"Personal pictures. Spontaneous pictures. We can't just have professional pictures. A couple that doesn't have regular pictures? That's not even heard of nowadays, with all the technology around."

Gemma threw a helpless look at her father. Brent looked slightly aghast that his daughter would look to him for help, but his face softened and he shrugged his shoulders as if to say that he couldn't exactly help her out on this one.

Dixon had watched the silent exchange while Carlene continued to look through her papers, the corners of his lips twitching up involuntarily. At least they had one thing in common; they were simply overwhelmed with all of this pressure that was being thrust upon them. Of course, he would do his job. Sure, he didn't exactly prefer her company or find her personality compatible with his, but he didn't want her to die. So he would continue to do his job, endure this mindless hell he was being subjected to, but at least he knew Gemma Harrison was in the same exact boat as he was. And that made him smile slightly.

"Okay," Gemma said, trying to maintain her patience. "Okay, so pictures."

"Exactly!" Carlene said, happy to be back on the track of wedding talk. "But that's not it. Then, in two weeks, we all have an appointment to visit St. Andrew's Cathedral. I know what you're about to say, Gemma. But it's a Presbyterian church, oddly enough. And it's beautiful."

"I would just like to say," Brent interjected, setting his silverware down and looking at his daughter for a moment. "To remind the two of you, actually, that while your cover is, indeed, a couple planning your wedding, you both have to keep in mind that he is your bodyguard, and because of this, he will be with you every day. Like your shadow."

This time, Gemma allowed her brown eyes to roll up to the ceiling before glancing over at Dixon with a dry look on her face. "I know, Dad," she told him. "Trust me. I'm still preparing myself mentally for this."

"That's not surprising,"
Dixon quipped under his breath. It would seem that only Gemma heard him, and if she wasn't sitting at dinner with her parents, she would have flipped him off.

That would show him.
Momentarily.

"And of course we'll have to write to the
Times
and put our engagement in their engagement announcements section," Carlene continued, her eyes skimming over one of her notes. "Then we'll have cake testing." Her head snapped up as she looked at her husband with such adoration, causing Gemma to reflect on the last time she had seen her mother look at her father that way. Not in a long time. "And we'll have the testing at the house, like a wine testing, except with cake! And, of course, we can't forget that we'll have an engagement party. I was thinking to schedule the party on a Saturday, maybe in a month or so. Does that work for the two of you?" She looked back up, but this time her eyes were darting between both Dixon and Gemma.

Dixon
nodded, again silently, as he took a petite bite of food. He wiped the white cloth napkin over his lips.

Of
course
he would completely agree with Carlene. Why wasn't Gemma surprised?

"Mom, I'm going to be honest," Gemma said, turning her torso in her mother's direction. "I don't have something planned in two days, let alone some Saturday in a month."

"That's great!" Carlene exclaimed, even going to the point of clapping her hands together once. "This means that your engagement party can be your plan."

Gemma caught sight of the smirk on
Dixon's face and she narrowed her eyes in his direction. He cocked his brow slightly, giving her an innocent look, which only caused Gemma to clench her jaw, making it pop.

Dixon
pressed his lips together to keep from laughing out loud. This woman was quite amusing, especially since such amusement was quite unintentional. He might actually have some fun at her expense for this mission.

Not that he would enjoy himself, fully, of course, but it would certainly help.

"And maybe a couple of weeks after that, we can have the wedding," Carlene concluded, the same smile still touching her face. "Obviously, the two of you need to shop for your appropriate attire for the big day, but you can do that whenever you want, as long as it's before the wedding!" She laughed at her little joke. "Anyways, I just need to ask you a couple of questions in order to get your input. Gems, have you decided on your Maid of Honor?"

"I asked Gillian, and she agreed," Gemma explained.

"That's great!" her mother said with such enthusiasm Gemma couldn't help but feel a prick of excitement at this. "I'm so glad she said yes. You guys are going to have so much fun. And for you, Dixon? Do you have a Best Man?"

"I figured that my partner, Harvey Stevens, will fill that role,"
Dixon said.

"Good man," Brent said, supporting
Dixon's choice.

"Al
l right," Carlene said, writing a couple of things down before looking back up. "Now for your honeymoon, I was thinking maybe the Caribbean or Transylvania. I remember when your father and I went. It's a gorgeous city."

"Beautiful," Brent said with a mouthful of pasta.

"Mom," Gemma said after a thought struck her. "I have a question about the wedding." Carlene's face looked like a Christmas tree at the prospect of her daughter joining in on the abundance of excitement. Gemma bit her bottom lip as excitement coursed through her system.  How could she have not thought about this before?  This was the best part of the wedding.  "Do I get a bachelorette party?"

"Are you sure you have to come?" Gemma asked, glancing at Dixon, still sitting in the passenger seat of her car. So making a wish at 11:11 in the morning that the man sitting in her car would suddenly vanish didn't exactly work as well as Gemma had hoped. Maybe she could annoy him to the point of wanting to leave. She had already put on a mix of her favorite country music, but that didn't seem to be working as well as Gemma had originally planned. So it was time for Plan C. Verbal contact. Ugh.

"Trust me,"
Dixon said, turning his head so he looked in her direction. "If there was even a slight chance that I didn't have to, I wouldn't be here."

"I mean," Gemma continued as though she hadn't heard him. "I'm just grabbing some books from my school's bookstore. I really don't think I need someone to accompany me to do that. I really don't think people I go to school with want me dead."

"You can never be certain of anything," Dixon told her, and surprisingly, he wasn't being dry or sarcastic. In fact, if Gemma had to guess, it almost sounded as though he was bitter, as though he was speaking from personal experience.

"I don't think that's true," she murmured in a conversational tone.

"Yeah?" Dixon asked, arching a brow as he regarded her with an inquisitive stare. "Then what are you certain of, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I don't," Gemma replied. "And I'll tell you. I am certain that even though I'm in an odd predicament that might border on cruel and unusual, my parents are only trying to protect me. I am certain that James Dean was and is the greatest actor of all time. I am certain that Green Day is the best band on the planet and Eminem is the best rapper in the game. I am certain that one day, I want to live in Los Angeles an
d manage Hollywood movie stars."

"Those aren't certainties,"
Dixon argued, shaking his head slightly.  His copper hair fell in his face, the tresses almost hiding his eyes. "Those are opinions."

"So, what, am I not allowed to be certain of what I believe?" Gemma asked, giving him an odd look before returning her eyes back to the road. "Hey, you were the one who asked me what I'm certain of, and those things are what I'm certain of."

"Really?" Dixon asked. "Okay, then, if James Dean was such a good actor, why didn't he ever receive an Oscar to honor his talent?"

Instead of being offended, Gemma chuckled. "You're silly," she told him, shooting him a smile.
Dixon looked completely baffled by her reaction to his criticism, but he didn't have to wait long for an explanation. "Just because the Academy, who didn't even nominate
The Dark Knight
for Best Picture, doesn't award someone with a Best Actor trophy doesn't mean that an actor isn't talented. Johnny Depp, arguably the best actor to have ever walked on this planet, hasn't won the trophy. I don't need a bunch of old guys to tell me who has talent and who doesn't. And, I think that if James Dean survived and continued to act, he may have won a trophy of his own. But you know what, who knows?" She paused a moment, letting her words to sink in.

Dixon
took a moment to stew over what she had said. He hated to admit it, but she was pretty wise when she wanted to be.

"You're a very passionate person," he told her finally, trying to come up with words that were correct. "Why do you project yourself as…
" He let his voice trail off, not exactly sure how to finish it. He didn't want to offend her, per se, but he wasn't exactly sure how to make her out.

"This is who I am," she said, her voice softer. She didn't seem perturbed by his comments, but her eyes weren't shining as they had once been. Not that he had noticed or anything. "I come off as goofy and quirky and silly, but that's okay. I'm a happy person. What people see when they look at me is exactly what they get. But people still judge me based on who they think I am, and they don't exactly realize I am capable of serious conversation." She shrugged her shoulders indifferently, but a sad smile touched her lips. "Well, that's not my problem, is it? People are missing out."

"A diamond in the rough," Dixon stated before he could stop himself.

Gemma pulled into the Lot B of her school, where the bookstore was located, and parked the car. She smiled at him.

"That's a nice way of looking at it," she agreed, and then her face became wary. "Look, I know we're supposed to be engaged and everything, but that doesn't mean we have to, like, hold hands or kiss or anything, right?"

"I've always felt that such dramatic
displays of public affection happen when couples are insecure with themselves and feel they have something to prove," Dixon told her as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

Gemma paused as she opened her door. "Yeah," she murmured.
"Me too."

Dixon
and Gemma headed into the bookstore, the size of it comparable to a Borders or a Barnes & Noble. She saw a couple of people she knew due to previous classes they shared, and while she smiled politely at them, she could tell they were looking at Dixon with curiosity. She glanced up at him as the two walked downstairs, where the textbooks were located. Today, he was wearing a white T-shirt and blue jeans. For whatever reason, clothes seemed to fit his body quite nicely. It probably had to do with the fact that he was in incredible shape. He could be a model if he wanted to be.  Well, maybe not a model.  But God, he had nice arms.

Not that Gemma
liked
him or anything. Her mind was just stating facts.

I
t was his eyes, though, that were double-take worthy. She and Gillian called him Code Blue for a reason.

Gemma snickered.
Code Blue.
Priceless
.

Dixon
glanced down at her, unsure as to why she was laughing. By the look on her face, he figured she had thought of something funny for whatever reason, and had to refrain from allowing himself to smile at her antics.

She was quite unique, a true diamond in the rough.

Not that he was suddenly enjoying her company or anything. But it could be worse. He could be getting shot at and whatnot.

It didn't take long for the couple to find the necessary textbooks for Gemma's fall semester. What surprised
Dixon was the fact that she was taking fifteen units. It didn't seem like a lot, but he remembered when he was in college, classes were a lot more work than he had originally expected. What surprised Gemma, on the other hand, was the fact that Dixon had offered to carry her books. Well, he didn't actually say anything; every time she grabbed a book, he would take it from her and that was that.

It was a good
thing, too, because by the time they reached the check-out, she probably would have dropped her books.

There, at the register, was
none other than Troy Carter, student and football player by day, Greek god by night. Just looking at him caused her heart to stop. He had deep brown eyes with flecks of green scattered about, a square jaw, and messy black hair. He was tall, maybe a couple of inches shorter than Dixon, and quite built. Well, he had to be, didn't he? He was quarterback of the varsity football team.

"Hey Gems," he greeted, and when he flashed her that trademark heart-breaking smile with the dimple popping, Gemma bit her bottom lip.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what Gemma was thinking, and once Dixon did, he had to press his lips together to keep from laughing at her. She may be wise, but she did experience infatuation to the point of forgetting her own name.

"H-hey," Gemma managed to respond. It was then that she remembered
Dixon was here and she hated life at that moment. "This is my… f… ffffff…" Dixon had to mask his laughter with coughing, but Gemma knew exactly what he was thinking and she glared at him. "Fiancé. Dixon. His name is Dixon and he is my fiancé."

There. She did it.

After she had paid for her books, she all but stomped to her car. "This is just great," she muttered under her breath. "I had my whole life planned out and I was going to marry Troy and we were going to have two kids and he would play for the NFL and then somebody had to threaten my life." She started the car, which masked her own growl. "So not fair."

Dixon
couldn't hold his laughter in now if he tried.