“What are you in the mood for?” she asks, pulling out a file folder containing paper menus from all the local eateries. Her dedication to organization no longer surprises me.

“You choose,” I say with the wave of a hand. “Surprise me.”

A surprise. That’s it.

As Olivia pores over the various menus, I slide my phone out of my pocket and send a text to Camryn.

Noah: Meet me for an early happy hour today. I need your help.

Camryn responds almost immediately.

Camryn: You buying?

Noah: Sure. 4 p.m. at Woody’s Stiff Pickle.

Camryn: Sure thing, boss man.

Her message ends with a thumbs-up emoji.

I put my phone away again, hiding my smirk. I know just what I need to do tonight to make sure Olivia never has to worry about this assistant business ever again.

• • •

“What’s going on?” Camryn asks, taking a sip from her strawberry margarita.

We’re seated at the bar. Woody’s is a casual place, a sports bar with little ambience. But it’s close to work, and more importantly, it’s not somewhere Olivia would ever willingly set foot. So we’re safe from being discovered.

“I need your help.”

“Trouble in paradise? Again?” Camryn smirks at me. “You’re pretty efficient at fucking up; I’ll give you that.”

“Eh . . .” I tilt my hand from side to side. “It’s not like that. Everything’s actually going pretty well.”

For a certain definition of the word, anyway. In itself, the assistant thing isn’t a big deal; I know I’ll figure it out eventually. But there’s a lot going on in our world. Olivia’s father’s failing health, the idea of us maybe, someday having a baby, and of course, our new commitment to each other in this marriage.

“Everything’s actually going well. I just . . . I want a do-over with Olivia.”

“A do-over?” She drums her fingers on the bar. “What does that mean, exactly?”

“You’re the one who told me Olivia was a closet romantic who’d always dreamed of a big, beautiful wedding.”

“Well, yes.” Camryn nods, her brunette waves bouncing. “That’s true.”

I almost cringe, thinking back on our wedding. If you can even call that half-assed, clinical meeting a “wedding.” We need a fresh start. I need to show Olivia everything she means to me. And a real wedding is going to be the first step toward doing that.

“So I need to plan one of those. A blow-out wedding like she’s always wanted.”

Camryn’s lips quirk up. “Since you’re already married, I’m guessing you mean a vow renewal.”

“Sure. Doesn’t matter what it’s called. I need Olivia in a big poofy dress, a massive cake, our friends and families, great food, a band, and dancing under the stars.”

Camryn’s smile has bloomed into a full-on grin. “That’s cute. You should totally do that. Can I be a bridesmaid?”

Now I’m the one smirking at her. “You said it’s not a wedding. Do vow renewals even have a wedding party?”

“They do when you plan them.”

I chuckle and take a sip of my beer. “I’m going to need some help here. What did Olivia’s dream wedding consist of? Can you remember anything from that scrapbook you mentioned?”

Camryn looks out over the bar, taking a moment to think. “You know what? No.”

“Excuse me?” I’m taken aback.

She gives a flick of her wrist. “Those were her childhood dreams, the ramblings of an adolescent girl. Olivia’s a woman now. And you know her better than anyone. You’ve got this.”

How did I not know this was coming? Every time I’ve asked Camryn for help, she finds a way to make sure I’m forced to figure it out on my own.

“And besides, this . . .” She waves her hand in my direction. “This is amazing.”

“What are you talking about?” I squint at her.

“A groom planning a vow renewal is about the sweetest, nicest thing ever. Go with it, trust your gut, and I’m sure Olivia will love it. It’s inherently romantic because you’re the one making an effort for her. That’s what true love is all about, selflessly doing for another.”

Before we get all mushy, I mutter a solemn, “Thanks.”

Camryn just grins and takes another gulp of her drink.

“Check, please,” I call to the bartender.

“Happy hour’s over already?” she asks, pouting.

“Sorry to cut it short, but apparently I have an entire wedding to plan.” I take the last swig from my beer bottle and rise to my feet.

“It’s not a wedding. It’s a vow renewal.”

I roll my eyes. “Semantics.” If it includes the wedding-night sex I never got, I’ll be a happy man.

Plus I have another idea—a surprise for Olivia tonight that will prove to her she’s the only woman in my life.

I slap down a couple of bills and tip my chin at Camryn. “Thanks for the chat.”

She gives me a little wave as she polishes off her margarita. “Anytime. Good luck.”

• • •

Once Olivia gets home, it’s our standard evening fare. Relaxing small talk, a light dinner enjoyed together at the table, and now, savoring a glass of wine in the living room. She’s flipping through a stack of catalogs that came in the mail today. I shift on the couch, more nervous and excited than I realized I’d be.