The Awesome Girl's Guide to Dating Extraordinary Men (49 page)

And it was only a matter of time before that unspoken proposal tore the two of us apart.

I’ll leave you with this. Love is a big decision. Take it seriously. However, the only thing more important than love is like. Think about that while you’re dating. Do you like this guy? Like being around him? Like him as a person? Love is a decision, but like is completely natural, and at the end of the day, like is way more important than love. Remember that.

—
The Awesome Girl’s Guide to Dating Extraordinary Men
by Davie Farrell

SHARITA

T
here was a lot that Ennis and me didn’t have in common. We were from two different countries, two different races, and two different backgrounds.

But then again, I thought as I walked toward the baggage claim in the smaller-than-I’d-expected Edinburgh Airport, there was a lot that we did have in common. We were both thrifty. We both suffered artistic sisters. His was a painter, living in London, because according to Ennis, “It’s the most expensive place on earth, so of course my daft sister insists it’s the only place she can live.” Also, he had warned me that his mother might get a little handsy with the male guests or embarrass him in some other way at the wedding. “When she’s got a few pints in her, there’s no telling what she’ll be doing.” I had appreciated this quality in his mother because my own mother had a bad reputation for turning into the worst loudmouth at open-bar weddings.

Ennis had called the night before to tell me that he wouldn’t be able to meet my plane. “Ma mum’s insisting that we do the flowers and cake up right, and the morning your plane comes in is the only time I’ve left to meet with anyone else.”

“I should have taken off work and come out to help you.” I’d had a bunch of quarterly taxes to file for creative clients and hadn’t come over with Ennis because I wanted to get as much work done as possible, so that I could really enjoy my first vacation in years.

“No, don’t worry about it, love. They want me to look at a few pictures of some pretty flowers and taste a little cake. Trust me, there’s nothing to it. I’m sorry I can’t meet you. I’ll be sending my best mate, Dale, round to meet your plane and he’ll drive you in, if that’s okay. I’ll be done by the time you get here and ready to give you a big fat snog.”

“Snog” might mean “kiss.” At least that’s what I hoped it meant.

I didn’t realize until I encountered a group of people waiting near the baggage claim area that I hadn’t thought to ask Ennis what Dale looked like. But to my relief, a husky redhead waved me down. “Look at this crush, will you? You must be Sharita.”

I would have asked how he knew, but then, looking around, I could see I was the only black woman in the entire baggage claim area. “Hi,” I said. “Thanks for coming to pick me up.”

“Oh, no problem at all. Let’s just get your luggage sorted out, and we’ll be on our way.”

Nestled into the passenger seat of Dale’s black four-door car, I took in the gorgeous scenery while we drove to Ennis’s childhood home, which, according to Dale, was just twenty kilometers outside of Edinburgh. Scotland, I was surprised to find, looked an awful lot like my image of Ireland, with greener-than-green grass in every direction I looked.

For the most part, Dale hummed along with English pop hits on the radio, but occasionally he’d point out a landmark. He seemed especially fond of castles, pointing to the stone ruins of one at the side of the road and saying, “That’s a fixer-upper, innit? Ennis would have his work cut out for him with that one.”

A few miles later he pointed toward a castle nestled high on a hilltop. “That’s our main competition. They’ve got a few more rooms than us, and a full-on golf course.”

“Oh, do you work in one of those castle hotels?” I asked.

Dale let out a big and hearty laugh. “Well, I try not to work myself too hard if old Ennis’s not looking.”

I found myself even more confused, but I didn’t ask. The Scottish, I had found, had kind of strange senses of humor. Ennis was forever cracking these jokes and he’d have to take a long time explaining them to me, but I still wouldn’t get why they would be considered funny in the first place. Nine times out of ten it ended up being a quote from some British sitcom I’d never heard of. Ennis quoted from one called
Father Ted
a lot. It had
gotten so bad he made me promise to watch DVDs of it on our honeymoon so that I could start getting his jokes.

“It bothers me that you only laugh at what I say when I’m not intending to be funny.” I had, of course, laughed when he said that and was met with an accusatory, “See what I mean!”

So I let Dale’s confusing joke go, but then he turned down a narrow, woods-lined gravel road and pulled up in front of yet another castle.

“What’s going on?” I asked when he came around and opened my door for me.

“Well, I’m going to take your suitcase up to your room, and you’re meant to meet up with Ennis round back, but first you’ll have to get yourself unbuckled.”

“Unbuckled?” I repeated. “But I thought we were supposed to meet Ennis at his childhood home.”

“Castle Craigh is his childhood home, now come out with you. I’ve got this suitcase and some other work to tend to.”

I got out of the car. But I looked back at Dale several times as I approached the jaw-droppingly beautiful castle. And yes it was a real castle-castle, one that dated back to the fifteenth century, according to a plaque outside the large red wooden doors that led inside.

But once I got inside, I found what looked like a hotel, complete with two smiling front-desk clerks.

“You must be Mr. Craigh’s fiancée,” one of them said with a bright smile. “He’s waiting for you out back. Just follow the runner here until you reach the back doors.”

In a confused daze, I followed her instructions. At the airport, I had thought maybe Ennis and me had a lot of stuff in common, but now I was beginning to see I’d been wrong.

For example, when I thought of a backyard, I imagined a house with a big enough backyard to host a wedding. But when I came out the back entrance to Castle Craigh, I discovered that Ennis’s version of a backyard
looked like a postcard come to life, with acres of green grass broken up by English gardens and a pond. The whole scene was overlooked by a large gazebo, where Ennis was waiting, looking sheepish as all get out.

“Here’s where we’ll be doing the wedding,” Ennis said as I walked up to him. “Or there’s a sycamore tree over yonder. That might be nice, too.”

He pointed in the direction of the tree, but I kept my eyes on him. “So you’re, like, rich?” I asked, still not believing what all I was seeing.

Ennis came down the gazebo steps. “Not rich, no.”

According to Ennis, his family wasn’t rich. But his ancestors had been, and despite a few rough patches in their fortunes, the family had managed to hold on to the castle, with his mother converting their home into a bed-and-breakfast when Ennis was a little boy.

“Why did you think we were able to put your family and friends up for the weekend?” he asked, as if it were my fault for not figuring out that he lived in an actual castle sooner.

I shook my head. “I thought maybe you guys lived in a big house—not a castle. And, um, how did this not come up in any of the many long conversations we had before I flew out here? And isn’t August, like, prime time for the wedding season? Did you have to kick a paying customer off our date?”

Ennis blushed and sat down on the gazebo stairs. “I might not have mentioned the castle because money became a rather large issue between Abigail and myself. She came home with me one summer, and once she saw all of this she didn’t understand why I didn’t want to live a more flash life. We were broken up less than a year later. I didn’t want the money issue to come between us, so I didn’t bring up my castle.”

“Your castle?” I said.

“Yeah, ma mum formally handed it over to my sister and myself ten years ago. My sister wasn’t interested in taking it over, kept pressuring me to sell it, so I scraped together some investment capital, bought her out. My mate, Dale, did his degree in marketing but didn’t want to move to London or Dublin, where all the good marketing jobs were at the time, so he agreed
to help me pretty up the grounds along with a small crew of men for free room and board. It took us a whole year to get it where we wanted it. And then Dale asked a few of his uni mates who had moved to London for some favors, and we got a couple of big names to marry here, and that was it. Within six years, we were a solid wedding operation, and the whole thing could be run without me. So I moved to Los Angeles. I never did love the Scottish winters, and I liked the idea of starting over with a different career of my own choosing.”

I sat down next to him. “So let me get this straight. You’re not rich, but you have enough money to do whatever you want for the rest of your life?”

“Sharita, I might have a few pounds in the bank, but I don’t want to spend them on frippery. I see no reason to eat out at expensive restaurants every night or pay premium rents or go through money, like ma mum did, because we had it to spend. She nearly ran this place into the ground, and I would prefer to keep my money working for me as opposed to spending it on expensive weddings and a house larger than what we and two or three bairns would need.”

He cast his eyes downward. “But I also didn’t want to lie to you about my background, so I broke it to you this way. I’ll understand if it changes your feelings about me. I think I’m practical, but Abigail thought me rather tight, so I’m giving you the chance to back out now if you’d rather a more flash husband.”

He waited for my answer, but I just sat there, my own eyes cast downward as well.

“Do you mind telling me which way you’re leaning?”

I spoke slowly. “Right now I’m thinking about grabbing my wallet and walking to the nearest town.”

“This is my fault for not telling you sooner. I meant to, but things were going so well, and then it seemed like I had been keeping it from you for too long.” Ennis looked like the saddest man on earth when he said, “But no need to walk. I can drive you, if it’s a car to the airport you’re wanting.”

“Yeah, you’re right, this is your fault,” I said. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t want to go into town, find a stationery store, and start sending out thank-you notes to all my ex-boyfriends.”

Ennis looked up from his feet, confused. “I don’t ken your meaning.”

“I’m so happy right now,” I said, “that all I want to do is thank all the guys that were wrong for me. I am so grateful that none of them worked out, because they all led me to you. Does that make any sense?”

Ennis smiled, and it was a glorious thing to behold against the drab and gray Scottish sky. “I myself am mighty grateful to Abigail for dumping me. I never imagined I’d find a woman as tight with her money as myself, and I had a good feeling about us from the beginning. But I think writing your exes thank-you notes would be rubbing their faces in it. Not verrae mannerly.”

I smiled back. “Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t be. Thanks for keeping me grounded.”

“Thanks for agreeing to be ma wife. You’ve made me the happiest man on earth.”

“I feel bad for the couple we kicked out of our wedding date at such short notice.”

He looped an arm around my shoulders. “Ah, no need to feel badly for them. I booked the date at the beginning of the year, on January second, actually.”

I pulled away from him. “You set aside our wedding date the day after our first date?”

He shrugged. “You really do have to book these things early, don’t you? All the spots get taken up and it’s not good for a business if we start kicking customers off their dates, so I had to move quickly.” He pulled me closer. “And like I said, I had a good feeling about us.” He kissed me once, twice, then said, “A verrae good feeling.”

RISA

S
harita was fucking right yet again. I never did move to Merida. I was back in Silver Lake now, in a big two-story house with views of the Hollywood sign and a large two-car garage that I was having converted into a studio. If I weren’t a rock star, it would be way too big for just me. But I am a rock star, and there is no such thing as way too big in the rock-star mentality.