Just Another Silly Love Song - Rich Amooi Page 0,52
the strip of photos. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He grabbed his beer and took a swig.
I glanced at the three pictures. “No! You are the worst picture taker ever! What is this?” I laughed and shook my head, pointing to the second picture. “Were you sniffing my hair?”
Ben held his palms up. “I told you—you smell nice! It’s your fault.”
“Sure, blame it on me. And what about this picture? What’s the deal with your mouth shaped like an O? Oh, I remember, that’s when you said bamboo instead of cheese. You’re a little bit of a weirdo, aren’t you?”
I clinked her beer bottle. “Finally, someone gives me credit for that. Okay, no more photos. Do you want to go find more appetizers?”
“I would love to.”
Kyle approached us. “We have a professional photographer roaming around on the ship to document our anniversary. Make sure you both see her before you go. We can use the opportunity to have some promo shots taken of the two of you for the website.” He cleared his throat. “Appropriate ones.”
Ben groaned. “Oh, joy. More photos.”
“And make sure you find Fred Anhorn. He wanted to talk to you privately about something.”
“You got it.”
After Kyle walked away, I turned to Ben. “Who’s Fred Anhorn?”
“He’s the king of mattresses. One of our biggest advertisers.”
I nodded.
“We should talk about tomorrow. I thought it would be the perfect day to introduce your grandma to my grandpa.”
“You still want to do that?”
Ben shrugged. “Why not? Your grandma needs someone with energy and my grandpa’s got it. He’s looking for someone who’s not a fuddy-duddy and your grandma’s got sass for days, as you told me. Sounds like a match made in heaven.”
“And what type of matchmaking experience do you have?”
“Absolutely none. That’s what makes this exciting.”
“That’s what makes this scary. Don’t be surprised if it’s a train wreck.”
“You just have to believe.” He leaned in closer. “So, here’s what I was thinking. Let’s accidentally run into each other at UTC tomorrow at lunchtime, let’s say eleven thirty in the food court.”
Westfield UTC was a popular outdoor mall in La Jolla.
I nodded, thinking it wasn’t such a bad plan. “Not a bad choice—Grandma Joyce loves the food court there.”
“So does Grandpa Wayne! See? This is going to be amazing.”
“But then what? We run into each other and what happens next?”
“We eat together! Then we’ll figure out a way for them to get together the next day. We’ll work it out. Just improvise. So? Is it a date?”
I nodded, a little more excited about the plan now. “It’s a double date.” I held up my hand. “Well, not a date date. It’s a get-together.”
Ben chuckled. “Sure. Call it what you like. Now, let’s go grab some more appetizers.”
After enjoying smoked salmon with cream cheese crackers and shrimp cocktail shooters, Ben was pulled away from me for a private conversation with the king of mattresses. I took the time to wander around the ship and introduce myself to some of the employees I hadn’t met yet. I met some wonderful people and all of them were very complimentary, saying they absolutely loved the morning show. I had to admit that even though I enjoyed meeting them and chatting, my mind was on Ben.
Where was he?
After I talked with Debbie—where she went on and on about how Ben and I made a beautiful couple—I went back up to the poop deck and leaned against the rail.
It was dark, but the temperature was mild enough that I didn’t need a jacket as I took in the beautiful view again of San Diego Bay. I turned around to admire the illuminated skyline of downtown San Diego when I saw Ben walking in my direction.
“Having fun?” He leaned against the rail next to me.
“This is wonderful. Did you have a good conversation with the mattress king?”
Ben chuckled. “Yeah. They spend a lot of money on advertising with us and he asked me to endorse their beds on the show. He also invited me down to their store to pick out any bed.”
“Wow. Some of those beds are worth over five thousand dollars.”
“True, but like those tasty stuffed mushrooms we had earlier, the bed is only the appetizer. The real deal is in the monthly fee I would receive from them, a thousand bucks a month for just mentioning their name and talking about how much I love my bed for sixty seconds.”
“Wow, that’s easy money. Obviously, you jumped all over that.”