City of Yes (A Novella) Page 2

  It was only after ordering her favorite almond latte and settling onto a stool that Charlotte read the name on the file, and her heart nearly stopped.

  It had to be a coincidence. Some other guy with the same name.

  She stared down at the neat letters on the file label for several long seconds before she could bring herself to open the folder.

  Jared Kunitz.

  Right up until the moment he walked into the café the next morning, Charlotte held on to her hope that the whole thing was a crazy coincidence. It was statistically impossible that her newest client—and tech tycoon, apparently—could possibly be the same guy who’d borrowed her art history notes and taught her to do keg stands in college.

  But there he was. And he looked amazing.

  Charlotte hadn’t seen Jared Kunitz since the day after college graduation—what? seven, eight years ago? Now that she saw him walking into the cafe, it rushed back. Jared, leaning against his battered maroon Nissan Sentra, which was full of boxes and already pointed west. The May sunshine highlighted streaks in his sandy hair, his arms were folded across his chest. Two close friends, one awkward good-bye. They’d both promised to keep in touch.

  And if it hadn’t been for the previous night, they might have kept their word.

  If they’d stayed in touch, Charlotte wouldn’t be seeing him for the first time now: in cowboy boots and a flannel shirt that didn’t go together but somehow worked perfectly. He wore a battered leather satchel across his chest, and his familiar amber eyes blinked to adjust from the bright morning outside. He looked way better than he had in college, which Charlotte thought patently unfair.

  She waved, wishing she’d made more time to work out her arms in the past couple of weeks. Past couple of years. But she had on the bangle bracelets she loved: they always made her feel like a superhero. And her cutest wedge sandals. She could totally handle this.

  Jared’s eyebrows lifted when she waved, and he made his way to her. But she could tell he didn’t yet know who she was, other than a representative for Perfect Proposals. He was giving her his charming stranger smile, hand reaching out to shake hers, when he froze. Charlotte had to laugh as the dawning realization traveled from his shocked eyes to his throat and finally permeated his expression in highly gratifying joy.

  “Lotta Love.” His grin widened. “Is that you?”

  “It’s me.” She allowed herself to be pulled from the handshake into a warm hug. “But call me Lotta Love again and I’ll skewer you with a plastic butter knife.”

  He smelled the same.

  “Death threats within thirty seconds,” he said into her hair. “It’s definitely you. What the hell are you doing here?”

  She gave him her most professional face as they broke the embrace and sat at the bistro table. “I’m your Perfect Proposals consultant, actually. Here to make your engagement dreams come true.” She said it with a bit of embarrassed irony, as though this were just some temporary job that required her to say stupid things to people. Like working at a pirate-themed restaurant where you had to call everyone “matey.”

  Jared, however, looked delighted. “Well, damn, girl. I never would have guessed. Not in a million years.”

  “You can’t envision me planning proposals?”

  “Not that. I mean, hell yeah. I think you could plan just about anything you wanted. You were always the most creative one of us. I just—I didn’t even know you were in San Francisco.”

  “Five years now,” she said. “I guess we’re not really connected on Facebook.”

  “I don’t do social media.” He shrugged.

  “But you’re in technology, right?”

  “What’s the expression? The cobbler’s kids have no shoes?”

  He was still looking at her as if she were the best of all his birthday presents. No trace of the tension from seven years earlier. Maybe she should have made more of an effort to stay in touch with her old friends. Jared looked really good.

  “And you’re getting engaged,” she said, a reminder as much as a question. “Congratulations.”

  “What? Oh, yes. The whole point of our meeting.” He grinned.

  “I saw from your file that you’ve been in Austin? Are you coming here just for the proposal?”

  “My girlfriend is here in San Francisco. I live in Austin, where my company is headquartered, but we have an office here.”

  “Apparently, your hiking app is the hottest thing going right now.”

  He shrugged in that carefree way he always had, with the sideways grin that showed the dimple beneath his light stubble. Funny how when you’d known someone for so long, their expressions could transport you back to other times, like the smell of gingerbread cookies at Christmas. It was Jared’s same shrug that said, “Why wouldn’t our fake IDs work at this bar?” “Of course we should go swimming at four a.m.,” and “This security fence is obviously just a suggestion.”

  It didn’t matter if it was their core group of four close friends, or a party filled with seventy people. Whenever Jared gave that charming little shrug, Charlotte knew trouble was going to follow.

  “So how long have you been dating…” She checked the file. “Brianna?”

  “Six months,” he said, straightening. “At least officially. She’s a friend of a friend, so we’ve been…” He cleared his throat. “On and off…for a couple of years.”

  Charlotte looked down at the folder. “You must travel a lot.”

  “Exactly. I’m here twice a month or so.”

  It was an odd feeling, to think this old friend had been in her city twice a month for who knew how long and she’d never bumped into him. She felt suddenly exposed, as if the protective wall of distance she’d put between herself and everyone from her past had been eroding without her notice.

  “So what about you?” he said. “Planning proposals? I, uh, don’t see a ring on your finger.”

  “No.” She smoothed the napkin on her lap. “Boyd and I broke up about a year after college.”

  “I heard.” Jared’s expression was soft and serious as he waited for her to look up. “I do manage to get occasional updates from the grapevine, even without the benefit of Facebook.”

  Charlotte shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course Jared would know the delicious gossip that his best friend Boyd had cheated on her with Mimi, the crazy hairdresser a few years older than they were. Mimi had never gone to their school but hung around the college parties anyway: flouting her pot connections, incredible breasts and lack of inhibitions. She was the kind of girl, Charlotte’s mom would’ve said, men loved to play around with—never marry.

  “So I guess you know he married her,” she said, surprised at the lump in her throat. This was all old news, but something about facing Jared with it made the humiliation fresh. “They have three kids now.”

  Jared nodded and reached instinctively for her hand. She pulled it back. Old friend or not, she was here to plan the most romantic moment of his life, not to cry on his shoulder over idiot Boyd. She’d done enough of that in college, and it hadn’t done either of them a damn bit of good.

  Charlotte forced a laugh. “Well. To his credit, only one of those three kids was conceived while he and I were still living together, so we can be proud of that.”

  Despite her attempt at humor, Jared’s easy smile was nowhere to be found. He held her gaze, expression calm and serious. “You know this already, and I loved that man like a brother, but I never once thought Boyd Williams was good enough for you.”

  Charlotte plastered on her professional smile. “Fortunately, we’re here to talk about whether you’re good enough for this lovely Brianna person, which I seriously doubt.” She nudged his boot with her sandal and put the file back in her bag. “I was thinking we’d start with a few possibilities in the heart of the city, if you don’t mind a walk?”

  His gaze l
ingered on her for a moment before he answered, as though he was trying to decide whether it was okay to move on from the most painful moment in Charlotte’s history to talk about proposal settings. “I can walk.”

  “Great. I’m going to grab us a coffee and muffin. You still a lemon poppyseed guy?”

  “I can’t believe you remember that.”

  “You are literally the only person I know who actually likes poppyseed muffins.”

  “Can’t be possible. Someone else has to like them. They wouldn’t make them just for me.”

  She grinned. “The whole world is made just for you, if I remember correctly.”

  He shrugged again, making her wonder how she’d survived graduation night with her integrity intact. She ordered the muffins, and two coffees—hers with light cream, his black with extra sugar—and followed him out into the sunshine.

  “So, did you have anything in mind?”

  They were walking down Market, devouring the muffins in companionable, if slightly awkward, silence. Charlotte was grateful to have her usual engagement-related questions to fall back on. It was strange seeing Jared Kunitz after seven years, and even more surreal that she was going to be spending the entire day with him, helping him plan a proposal to a woman she’d never met.

  Of course, she did this every day: planned pivotal moments in the lives of women she didn’t know. But in those situations, she didn’t know the grooms, either. In this case, he’d been one of her best friends.

  “Not really,” he said. “I don’t know the city as well as I should. When I’m here, I kind of move in Bree’s trajectory—her friends, her job, her parties…”

  “What does she do?”

  “She raises money for a foundation to send underprivileged kids to outdoor summer camps. That’s how we met, actually—we were both visiting a camp in Colorado, and I took her with me on some of my trail testing for the PathFinder app.”

  “So you bonded over s’mores and bug spray?”

  He laughed. “I guess you could say that. She’s a great girl. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

  “Me too,” Charlotte said. “But she’s out of town now, right? We don’t have to worry about running into her and ruining the surprise?”

  “She’s gone until Saturday, which is why I want to propose that night.”

  “This Saturday?” Charlotte stopped on the sidewalk, gaping at him. “Ellen told me you wanted things expedited, but I thought we had a couple of weeks, at least.”

  “I thought we did, too,” he agreed. “But the Google guys just added a bunch of stuff to my calendar for the rest of September, and then Bree’s busy season for fundraising starts and doesn’t let up until summer. You can handle it, right? I can pay extra if it helps.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Charlotte said. “You don’t have to pay extra. It’s just with only seventy-two hours to plan, you’ll have to be open to some creative options. We’ll have to rule out stuff like the big screen at AT&T Park or renting a cable car—those take special permitting and even I can’t turn them around that fast.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second.” He grinned at her. “But neither of those appeals to me anyway. Brianna is a pretty girly-girl. She hates sports and all the touristy stuff in San Francisco. She prides herself on being a native here and knowing all the little secrets of the city.”

  “I take it that rules out anything with the Golden Gate Bridge as a backdrop.”

  “Sorry. I guess those are your go-to places, aren’t they?”

  Charlotte bristled. “I pride myself on giving every client a unique and beautiful experience. No two proposals are alike.”

  He put a hand on her arm. “Calm down, Lotta. I’m sure you’re amazing at your job. I wouldn’t expect anything less. I just figured lots of people getting engaged here would want the iconic San Francisco experience.”

  “They do,” she agreed. “But I still give every couple their own meaningful take on it. This moment I’m planning, it’s a key part of their story together, something they’ll be telling at parties and family reunions years from now, long after they’ve forgotten that I helped them plan it. I like to get down to the little details of what makes every couple’s story special, so it feels like their moment, not mine.”

  They paused at an intersection and he faced her. “That’s really cool, Lotta. I’m proud of you.”

  The blood rose to her cheeks. “Thanks. Now, I just need to make a couple of calls while we walk so I can give you some fantastic, unique proposal ideas.” She pulled out her phone and dialed a friend at the California Academy of Sciences. “And quit calling me Lotta.”

  He was chuckling next to her when the museum operator answered and she asked to be transferred to Ken Nguyen.

  They hopped off the bus at Golden Gate Park a half hour later. Jared gave Charlotte a quizzical look. “Don’t worry,” she said. “It’s not what you think.”

  When they arrived at the California Academy of Sciences, with its roof carpeted in greenery and solar panels, and line of school busses out front, Jared finally had to ask. “Are we going on a field trip? Because as you may remember, staying with the group has never been my strong suit.”

  “Today we’re on the buddy system.” Charlotte took his hand. “And if you get lost, find an adult with a name tag and have me paged.”

  She gave her name at the front desk, and they were led by a docent to the doors of a huge white sphere in the middle of the museum. Jared whispered, “I really want to make a joke about your big, impressive balls right now, but I’m afraid it will remind you why you haven’t seen me in ten years.”

  “Seven years,” she corrected. “Keep up. We’ve only got about ten minutes before they let the next tour group in.”

  The docent, a woman in her sixties with rust-colored hair, had them sit side-by-side in the empty auditorium, surrounded by a giant screen the colors of sunset. “Ken said to tell you he’s sorry he can’t be here himself,” she told Charlotte. “They’re finding out the sex of the baby today.”

  “How wonderful! Ken runs the planetarium programs here,” Charlotte explained to Jared. “I helped him propose to his wife four years ago.”

  “I’ll just take you through the basic idea since we’re short on time.” The docent climbed the stairs behind them. “If you’re interested, Ken will be back this afternoon and he can take you through some options.”

  Charlotte pushed back in her seat to stare up at the domed ceiling, and Jared followed suit, letting out an exaggerated sigh of relaxation. A moment later, the auditorium went dark, and classical music began to play softly in the blackness, as—one by one—tiny pinpricks of light began to appear on the screen. These slowly lightened into stars, and as they got brighter, more and more stars began to fill in the gaps between them. It mirrored the effect of letting your eyes adjust to the real night sky, out in the country.

  When the shooting stars started—an authentic digital reproduction of the Persied meteor shower, to be precise—Jared gave a gratifying little murmur of “cool.” The light display intensified over the next minute, and then speeded up using time-lapse, until the world around them danced with streaks of light in time to the music. Then, they slowed again, fading away, along with the other stars, as though the sun was coming up once more. As a pinkish-blue band of dawn lighted the bottom of the screen, the only stars remaining behind in the sky formed the words, “Lisa, Will You Marry Me?”

  When the screen faded back to orange and the lights came back up, Jared turned to her. “I have to say, I’m impressed. That was…spectacular.”

  “Thank you.” She could see that he meant it.

  “Now I just have to find a cute girl named Lisa.”

  Charlotte elbowed him in the ribs and stood to lead him out. “Lisa is Ken’s wife. It’s the only other time he’s used the planetarium for a proposal. He doesn’t w
ant it to lose its specialness. But he offered it to me for a single future client, because he was so happy with how things went with Lisa.”

  “You’d cash in your only planetarium chip for me?” Jared said. “That’s really touching, Lotta.”

  She scowled, and began detailing how the proposal could work, as schoolchildren filed past them to take their seats for the next show. “We would do everything original for you and Brianna—I’m thinking a bistro table in that space up there. We can do wine and…”

  She noticed a hint of dissatisfaction between his brows and stopped. “She’s not a fan of wine? That’s hard to imagine in Northern California.”

  “That’s not it…” Jared trailed off as a little boy nearly careened into him, trying to catch up with his group.

  Kids. Brianna liked kids, worked with kids’ camps. Camping. “Ooh! We could do s’mores!” Charlotte clapped her hands together and they made their way toward the exit. “No open flames in the museum, obviously, but there’s a kitchen in the staff room with a toaster oven… I could set them out right before she comes in…”

  She waved to the docent as they exited into the main lobby of the museum.

  Jared slung an arm around her. “I loved this idea. I really did.”

  “Loved?” Past tense. Not a good sign.

  “It’s beautiful and dramatic, and the way those stars came up reminded me of camping in the Utah desert.”

  “But…?”

  “But it just wasn’t quite…me. Or, Brianna and me, I guess. It was more…Ken and Lisa, you know?”

  She knew. It had felt a little contrived, even when she suggested it. Charlotte had hoped the connection with camping and the night sky would be enough to honor Jared and Brianna’s story, while still conveying the elegance it sounded like Brianna was used to. But why would anything be so simple with Jared?

  “She’ll want something trendy, you know? Something to make her friends jealous. And I want it to be personal, unique.”