Page 96 of My Best French Wedding

She waved at him to go on.

“I was afraid if we crossed that line, I wouldn’t be able to think about anything else. Forget the story, forget everything.”

“As if I would ever let a personal relationship get in the way of my work,” Hildy scoffed, before recalling certain incidents of the last few days. “Shut up,” she said, though Walter hadn’t spoken beyond an eloquent lift of the brows.

“You agreed with me,” he reminded her. “Because you didn’t want anyone to make assumptions about you, since people are dicks about women in business. Wemutuallydecided to wait… but it wasn’t easy. At least not for me. I couldn’t get enough of you.”

She tried to keep her face hard and unyielding, but the memories were like pollen, irritating her eyes and making the back of her throat itch. For that one shining week, working with him had been as easy as breathing. Some people fought you at every step: You say up, I say down. Being with Walter was more like the improv game she’d played in family therapy. Instead of a world of “no,” everything was“yes, and!”

Do you like this headline? Yes, and we can use this photo!

Does that metaphor work? Yes, and it ties back to the Cinderella theme!

No one had ever “gotten” her as quickly as Walter. She didn’t have to explain things twice or fill in the gaps between one idea and the next leap of logic to bring him up to speed. They pushed each other, and the story kept getting better.

And it wasn’t just the work. She’d liked Walter, period. His quickness, the subtle sense of humor, the way he looked at Hildy like she was already the type of bold and brilliant person she’d always dreamed of becoming. In her mind, reporters as a type were more in-your-face go-getters, yelling out questions and speaking truth to power, but Walter didn’t seek the spotlight. If anything, he seemed more comfortable letting her take the lead.

Or so he’d let her believe. She swallowed, but the bitterness didn’t fade. “Too bad we didn’t keep it professional.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “That’s your takeaway?”

“Well, that is when it all went to shit.” Leaving Hildy feeling like the world’s biggest idiot.

“Maybe it was worth it.”

“Which part?” She held up a hand when he started to answer. “Let’s just say mistakes were made and leave it at that.”

“I don’t want to leave it.”

“You could have fooled me.”

32Hildy

TEN YEARS AGO

TAMPA, Fla.—One of Hildy’s special gifts was taking something that was already pretty great—hanging out with Walter, his hair, their story—and raising it to the next level. It was instinctive, the way tennis must be for someone sporty. Ideas popped into her brain without conscious effort: a tweak here, more emphasis there. Sometimes her head felt like a crystal ball.Ping!Another gem of inspiration shimmering into place.

Her latest brainwave was perhaps her most daring idea yet.

Sex. With Walter.

As a concept, it was both obvious and brilliant. Trust, attraction, limited supervision—the conditions were ideal for her first time. Clearly the universe wanted them to do this. Especially since it would also be Walter’s first time (she was pretty sure), so Hildy wouldn’t feel self-conscious about her lack of experience. Or worry that he might forget her after this week, when they went back to their separate lives. You never forgot your first.

Hildy didn’t have anyone she could ask for tips on staging a seduction, so she was winging it. She wanted tonight to feel classy and sophisticated to show Walter he was important to her—that she cared enough to pay attention to the details. Hence the trip toVictoria’s Secret, and the cans of cranberry juice cocktail (Walter’s favorite) chilling in the mini fridge.

This was definitely not what her uncle had in mind when he booked a hotel room in case Hildy couldn’t handle the dorms, but she was all about making the most of the resources at hand. She’d proven she could rough it, and now she needed privacy, because if she asked her charming roommate to make herself scarce, Corinne would come back after five minutes, just to be a contrarian. And from everything Hildy had read, this would take longer than that.

He knocked on the door promptly at eight.

“Hi,” she said, hoping the breathlessness sounded sultry rather than nervous.

“I got your note.” Walter held up the folded square of paper, sending a wave of fragrance in Hildy’s direction. It was possible she’d gone overboard with the perfume. “Is everything…”

He trailed off, and she watched his gaze flit around the room, taking in the low lighting and soft thump of music in the background. Hildy stepped out from behind the door, giving him a glimpse of her lacy purple nightie. Walter’s eyes went wide.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked, hovering on the threshold.

She frowned, wondering how the scenario could have been any more obvious. Maybe she should have gotten a piece of posterboard and writtenLET’S GET IT ONin bubble letters. Grabbing him by the wrist, Hildy tugged Walter into her hotel room, slamming the door behind him.