“So. Dutch and Aria.” Finally Richard turns in our direction. “You’re not giving away your identities yet.”
“Their names are way too embarrassing,” says Kirk, and there’s a roar of laughter.
“I know it seems weird,” I say with an abashed smile. “But we just want to prolong the magic. This has been so special….”
“Holiday flings always are,” says Anna, in that sweet, bitchy way she has, and I flinch, because why did she have to say that? This isn’t just a holiday fling.
I can see Dutch looking from her to me and realizing that I’m hurt. And before I can even draw breath, he’s stood up. He beckons to me to join him, and, feeling confused, I stand too. Everyone swivels to look up at us, and Richard tinkles his glass again.
“Pray silence for the bride and groom!” he announces in jocular tones—and I know he’s only playing around, but still a frisson passes through me. I glance hesitantly at Dutch—because this was his idea—and he draws breath.
“OK, you guys win,” he says in his easy way, looking around at the expectant faces. “You’ve got to me. I never thought about romance till I came on this course. I never thought about ‘love.’ But now it’s all I can think about…because I love this woman.” He turns to me. “Not just for the week. Not just as a holiday fling. But for keeps.”
I stare back at him, speechless, my eyes instantly full of tears. I never expected this. I never expected him to make a public declamation, or to be so forceful about it, or to gaze at me like he’s gazing at me now, his eyes warm and loving.
For keeps.
“Dutch…” I begin, then swallow hard, trying to get my thoughts together. I barely notice Scribe—or, rather, Felicity—creeping up toward me with a plaited garland of greenery. She pops it on top of my head with a mischievous smile, then retreats. And now I really do feel like a bride, standing in an olive grove in my white drifty dress with a wreath on my head. Oh God. I’m not sure I can cope.
“Dutch,” I start again, trying to ignore the tear which has edged onto my cheek. “I came on this course to learn about writing fictional love. Fantasy love. But I’ve found the real thing.” I squeeze his hands tight. “Right here. The real thing.” My voice has started to tremble, but I force myself to continue. “And I want to pledge to you, Dutch, that no matter what your real name is…no matter what you do…no matter where you live in the world…we’ll make this work.”
Dutch gazes at me wordlessly for a moment, then pulls me in for a kiss, and everyone erupts in whoops, cheers, and clapping. Richard is singing the bridal march, because he’s the type to milk a joke, and I’m sure Anna is sneering, but I’m not even going to glance in her direction. I’m in bliss. I’m in delicious, hazy, romantic bliss, and—
“Scusi.” Giuseppe has appeared out of nowhere, holding a pile of paper slips, and reluctantly I swivel my gaze toward him. “Taxi vouchers,” he announces to Dutch and me. He consults the slips, then holds out one to each of us. “BA flight to Heathrow. Yes? The taxi leave at eight A.M.”
He nods briskly, then moves to distribute vouchers among the other guests, while Dutch and I stare at each other, taking in this thunderbolt. Heathrow. Heathrow! I’m stunned. (In fact, I’m almost let down, because I’d imagined romantically battling the odds of a long-distance relationship.)
“Heathrow,” says Dutch. “Well, that makes things simpler. You live in London?”
“Shhh!” I bat my hands at him. “That’s…Not yet.”
The stars are in alignment, I’m thinking in giddy joy. That’s what this is. Of all the places in all the world Dutch could have come from…it’s London!
“I always assumed you did,” he adds, and I jolt in astonishment.
“How on earth did you assume that? I could have lived anywhere! I could have lived in…Seattle! Montreal! Jaipur!” I cast around for another random place. “Honolulu!”
Dutch stares at me blankly for a moment.
“You sound like a Londoner,” he says with a shrug. “Plus I was chatting to Nadia and she said over sixty percent of the class came from London.”
“Oh.”
“They have London-centric marketing,” he adds. “We were talking about how they could expand their targets regionally. It was interesting.”
OK, I feel we’re getting slightly off topic here. To recapture the mood, I reach up to