Decidedly with Wishes - Stina Lindenblatt Page 0,10

with her on our date, never mind spending a week with her in Copper Creek and the round-trip drive there and back.

And she might not even like dogs—and there was no way I was leaving Spot in San Francisco.

5

Nala

To-do List for Completing College

Bucket list

Research places in San Francisco and the bay area where I can ride a real horse.

Design a cute outfit for said horse riding experience. Because if I’m going to be killed by a giant beast, I might as well look stylish.

Google where to find a “hot hockey player” who will go on dates with women who create dumb bucket lists that include going on a date with a hot hockey player.

Research how to create a time machine so I can kick college-age me’s ass for creating the bucket list.

Three weeks after Amelia, Rachel, Dani, and I discussed my ideal traits for a husband, my bucket list remained as is—with not a single item completed.

What had I accomplished in that time when it came to the list?

Well, other than a to-do list for accomplishing said bucket list…nothing.

We could blame work for that. I’d been so swamped that I hadn’t even had a chance to look at the to-do list since writing it.

“Does anyone want to explain to me why we’re here?” I asked.

“Here” being a hotel lobby. It wasn’t the type of hotel my grandmother favored. There was no exquisite interior design, no elaborate chandelier, no feeling of wealth oozing from every nook and crevice.

But there were people milling around, dressed for an evening on the town.

Without telling me what they’d planned, my three friends had sailed into my apartment and removed one of my creations from my closet. The sleeveless cocktail dress was the deep, rich color of a ripe plum. It was also one of my favorite dresses, with a bateau neckline, princess waistline, and an A-line skirt that flared out to just below my knees.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Amelia told me, fishing around in her purse. She pulled out four pieces of paper and handed them to us.

“A silent auction?” I read what turned out to be a ticket for the event. The proceeds were benefiting a literacy program for foster kids. “Is there any particular reason we’re at a silent auction? And why all the secrecy?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Dani said, parroting Amelia’s words.

We entered the hotel’s grand conference room and located our assigned table near the front.

“How much of your bucket list have you crossed off so far?” Rachel asked, even though I had a feeling Amelia had already updated her on my lack of progress.

“Well, out of the six items—and this is really just an estimate—nothing.” My voice had an easygoing, What-can-you-do? shrug to it. “I’ve been busy with work.”

“So you haven’t even booked a flight to Paris yet?”

A woman in a black skirt and vest, with a white shirt, took our drink orders.

Once she’d left to retrieve them, I answered Rachel’s question. “Not yet. But I’ll get on that soon.” I’d been there several times over the years, but that was for fashion shows. There hadn’t been many chances to stroll around, check out the sights, and kiss strangers in front of the Eiffel Tower.

“You’ve got just over nine weeks left to complete the list. Nala, this isn’t the time to dawdle.”

Crap. How had the first three and half weeks disappeared so quickly?

“Unless one of the prizes up for bid is the winner’s future husband, it doesn’t matter if I do the other items or not. Plus, I don’t know any hot hockey players I can go on a date with.”

Couldn’t I have just written “a hockey player” on the list? Nooooo, I had to go one step further and state he had to be hot.

At least I hadn’t been drunk enough to write something specific—like he had to be a six-foot-three, dark-haired defenseman.

Still, it didn’t matter if he was hot or not; I didn’t know any hockey players.

“How will your grandmother know if you’re in love with the bloke you end up marrying?” Dani asked. “You said it couldn’t be a fake husband—it has to be true love and all that crap. But how will she know? Will you have to take a love-lie-detector test?”

“Wouldn’t it be great if there were such a thing?” Rachel sighed. “It would save us heaps of issues when it came to falling for the wrong man.”

The woman with our drinks approached our table in time to hear the conversation. “I’m with you