I give her a long look, wondering if, in her mind, we’re those same two people. To me, we feel like two brand-new people.

But thank God I didn’t say that, because whatever it feels like to my wacky brain, we’re Lukas Spencer and Autumn Smith—two strangers who were forced together, even though this no longer feels forced.

I notice her iPad and a thin binder she placed on the table before taking a seat.

“What’s that?” I ask, changing the direction of our conversation.

Autumn’s gaze, still nervous, follows mine. Her rosy cheeks immediately pale a little, urging my footsteps back to my seat.

“Are you sure about joining me with Maddy?”

When I nod, she turns on the screen. “This is the plan. They’ll arrive around lunchtime.”

Autumn shows me her list of activities she has scheduled. Showing them around. Food. Cake tasting. I try to focus on her every word, but the intoxicating smell of orchids and sandalwood, which I now know is her perfume from the pink glass bottle with a gold lid, distracts me.

“What do you think?” she asks, closing the PowerPoint she prepared.

“It’s…amazing.” My chest swells with pride. “You love this place,” I say in awe, even when I know The Butterfly Inn isn’t just a place of work for her. But her commitment shows in the way she’s arranged every fine detail, and that’s why I’m nervous for my next words. “But…can I suggest…something?”

“Lukas, I’d love to hear your advice. That’s why I showed you the plan.”

“Don’t take them out for lunch. Instead, do it here. You have a great chef, and this’ll give you a chance to show them what more you have to offer. Have Suzie prepare what she makes best or whatever your guests like. I guess it won’t be difficult to find out some of our celebrities’ favorites.”

Autumn smiles and shows me an Excel sheet listing the couple’s likes and dislikes, and it slips a little when she adds, “But I think they’re only interested in the venue. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve already booked some Michelin-star chef from Europe.”

“It’s okay if that’s the case. We’re already going with fewer expectations. We’ll just show them what we have to offer and let them decide from there.” When I look up from the screen, there’s a smile on her face. “What?”

“You said we.”

“I meant—”

“I like it,” she replies quickly. “Possibly for the first time, there’s someone by my side who won’t be grading me or is scared that I might fail. I like that you believe in me,” she whispers.

15. Autumn

15

AUTUMN