Nearing my flat, I decide to detour through Grosvenor Park, the most American spot in London, with statues of two former presidents—Reagan and Roosevelt—guarding the small green space. I sit down on a park bench and breathe deeply. It’s a lovely spring afternoon with blue sky and bright sun. Maybe, as Dina suggests, I should go find a posh bar and order a gimlet.

  But first I should look through my e-mails and be certain there are no fires to put out at the office before my weekend officially begins. Opening the browser, my eyes scan the various senders and subjects—then my breath catches.

  There it is. In black and white.

  Subj: YOU’VE BEEN MATCHED

  My neck snaps up, and I look around the park for someone with whom I can share my insane and important—momentous—news, but there’s nobody, of course. I take a deep breath and center myself.

  You’re about to meet your husband. Your husband, Courtney. Are you ready?

  Barely able to contain the mix of excitement, impatience, and jitters that’s rolling my stomach and threatening to spill radish sandwiches all over the pristine sidewalk at Grosvenor Park, I tap on the message.

  Dear Ms. Salinger:

  We are excited to tell you that we have found you a match.

  Meet your future husband: CJD_NY!

  We don’t believe in telling you much about your future spouse before you meet at the altar, but for your peace of mind, we can tell you that CJD_NY is a twenty-six-year-old male and lives in the New York, New Jersey, Connecticut tristate area. We have verified that he is currently single, has never been married, has no living children, has no criminal record, and graduated from an accredited four-year college.

  When we received CJD_NY’s profile, something about this man spoke to our souls, and we knew that he was the right match for you. Based on our top-secret, Lifetime-backed formula for matching couples, we are excited to give you and CJD_NY a 90 percent chance of success.

  Please remember, however, that no match will be perfect. Marriage takes an enormous amount of work, and arranged marriages take optimism and patience. That said, if you’ve been doing your homework, you should be prepared to enter your union with hope and readiness. Your marriage will become whatever you make it. No two matches are the same. Every couple must forge their own future together.

  We will be contacting you and your match in a separate e-mail that will introduce you to one another for the first time. Please don’t ask personal questions of your future spouse. You will have the rest of your life to get to know each other. This first exchange of e-mails is primarily so that you can decide on the details of your wedding. A second exchange will only be necessary to confirm those details.

  We strenuously encourage you to use the services of our sister website, ArrangeMyWedding.com, to plan your big day. The experts at Arrange My Wedding will collect your birth certificates, arrange for a marriage license, and expedite any formalities in addition to reserving wedding and reception venues and planning your honeymoon. By using this service, you can keep your communication with CJD_NY to a minimum before you meet. These experts can plan your wedding at any time, almost anywhere in the world, and though their prices are at a premium, don’t you want your special day to be perfect? A 10 percent discount for using our matchmaking service can be redeemed on your final invoice. Please use code: MARRYUS.

  Although we have high hopes for you and CJD_NY, all marriages can hit rough patches. Should you require marriage counseling in the early days of your union, we are pleased to offer hourly rates for our personalized services in person or via Skype. It is important to us that you feel 100 percent supported in your new marriage.

  We are so excited for you to begin your journey, Courtney Jane Salinger. We wish you every possible success and happiness!

  With joy,

  Dr. Jake, Pastor Ken, and Dr. Sydney Morningstar.

  Your ArrangeMeToo.com Team

  CJD.

  CJD.

  Charles? Christopher? Christian? Colin?

  I take a shaking breath, leaning back on the wooden bench and letting the late-day sun bathe my face.

  Carson? Cyrus? Clifford? Chester?

  I giggle softly to myself, enjoying this moment, wanting to remember it as a vital step in “The Story of Us,” even though my mind is rapidly filling with more questions. I open my eyes and scan the e-mail again.

  Does the “NY” at the end of his name mean he’s from New York? Or is “NY” a regional tag? No “living” children…hmm. Does that mean he had a child who died? What a terrible thing, if that’s true. Never married makes me feel relieved, and no criminal record is reassuring.

  He’s only twenty-six to my twenty-nine, but I did say that I was open to someone within five years of my age when I filled out my application. Hmm. He went to a four-year college, which means I have more education than he does, but that’s okay. I requested someone with at least a bachelor’s degree, and he’s met that requirement.

  We will be contacting you and your match in a separate e-mail that will introduce you to one another for the first time.

  OMG! Does that mean…? I quickly swipe back to my inbox, and sure enough, there’s another message waiting.

  Subj: MEET YOUR MATCH

  If my heart fluttered for the previous message, it starts hammering as I tap on this one.

  Dear CJS_NY and CJD_NY:

  We are delighted to introduce you to one another for the very first time.

  As we shared with you in a previous message, based on our top-secret, Lifetime-backed formula for matching couples, we are excited to give your match a 90 percent chance of success. We truly believe in this process and in the potential of carefully arranged marriages to work for those in search of long-term marital happiness.

  We know that you are probably very eager to meet. To that end, we ask that you exchange a maximum of two sets of messages in this forum as a means toward planning your wedding. When you are ready, simply press REPLY ALL and type your message. When you press SEND, it will come back to Arrange Me Too, and we will redirect it to your fiancé. Once again, please don’t ask personal questions of your future spouse. You will have the rest of your lives to get to know each other. This first exchange of e-mails is primarily so that you can decide on the details of your wedding. The second should only be used as a follow-up, if needed.

  As we shared in our previous e-mail, we strenuously encourage you to use the services of our sister website, ArrangeMyWedding.com, to plan your big day.

  We look forward to hearing from each of you and request that CJS_NY write the first message. Within twenty-four hours, we request that CJD_NY write a reply. If this is not possible, please let us know at your earliest convenience.

  With love,

  Dr. Jake, Pastor Ken, and Dr. Sydney Morningstar.

  Your ArrangeMeToo.com Team

  OMG. Me? Me first? What do I write?

  My hands are shaking, and I’m starting to feel a little bit light-headed.

  I look up from my phone and take a deep gulp of fresh air. Across the park, the Marriott Hotel seems to beckon me, and I stand up in a daze, walking toward the massive structure. I stop by the concierge and am directed to the Luggage Room, an intimate, and very empty, bar off the lobby. Decorated in rich cherry wood with brown- and cream-colored leather seating, I can barely admire the beauty of the room, I’m so emotionally overwhelmed by the e-mails.

  C from New York.

  My future husband is C from New York, and right this second, he might be waiting for a message from me. It’s a little after four o’clock here, which means it’s a little after ten o’clock in the morning there. Ten. He’s probably at work. I wonder what he does for work? Finance, like me? Advertising, perhaps? I try to broaden my mind. Maybe he’s a teacher. Or a chef. A software engineer or a website developer. My God, he could be anything. And he could be staring at his computer, right this second, wondering about “C from New York.” Just like me.

  “A drink, miss?”

  I look up to find an older gray-haired man standing behind the bar. He offers me a polite smile from under a bushy white mustache.

  “Or do you need a moment?”

  A line from another time comes back to me, even more relevant now than it was back in New York at the Rum House: New bar, new drink.

  “Pick something for me?” I ask.

  He stares at me for a moment, then nods.

  And that’s when I make an important decision: new bar, new drink…new life. This life. This new life with C from New York begins now. My heart clutches when I order it to bid farewell to Josh Dalton, but I can almost feel it comply. I admire it for the battle it’s waged on his behalf, but my will is stronger than my heart, and I choose C from New York over Josh from Minnetonka. I choose a known happiness over unknown heartbreak. I choose C from New York.

  A new drink appears before me and I take a sip, marveling that it’s a little bit bitter but surprisingly sweet too.

  Good-bye, Josh Dalton, I tell myself.

  I choose C from New York.

  I choose him forever.

  CHAPTER 12

  Josh

  Even though I have felt a weird sense of calm—weird because what I’m doing is the craziest thing I’ve ever done by a mile—for most of this week, I’m still jolted when I wake up to find an e-mail from ArrangeMeToo.com in my inbox on Friday morning.

  Subj: YOU’VE BEEN MATCHED

  I scrub my hands over my face and sit up in bed, glad to see that Mike’s gone and I’ve got our room to myself.

  I click on the message, and I can feel—literally feel—my eyes rolling with every sentence I read. Good God, this is not only crazy but downright cheesy. There’s a snake-oil salesman vibe I get from the “encouragement” to use their “premium” wedding planning service, and the way they repeat my full name—Charles Joshua Dalton—several times in the body of the e-mail makes it feel really impersonal.

  But it only takes me a second to figure out that CJS_NY is my Courtney Jane Salinger, and the relief I feel makes me close my eyes and lean my head back for a second. I was so careful with my answers that I knew my application would lead me to her, but I didn’t know if the timing would be right. I didn’t know if I would be too late. The first major hurdle of this insanity—being matched with her—has been cleared, and I’m beyond relieved that she wasn’t matched with someone else.

  That said, the biggest hurdle of all—getting married—has yet to be managed.

  I’ve run through several wedding-day scenarios in my mind over the course of the past week, but the one that I keep returning to is Courtney seeing me waiting at the altar, calling me an asshole (or worse) for ruining her plans and interfering with her life, and running. I really don’t want that, but I know I need to prepare myself for it either way.

  A second message is also waiting, this one entitled “MEET YOUR MATCH.” Yet another hammy, impersonal introduction, this one tells me that Courtney is twenty-nine years old, has a master’s degree, works in finance, was raised in New York City or its suburbs, lives on her own, and is blonde, all of which were nonnegotiable requirements on my application. It also encourages Courtney to write to me with wedding plans, and I click back to my inbox, feeling a little disappointed to discover she hasn’t yet.

  A knock on my door makes me look up from what I’m doing. “Yeah? Come in.”

  Sammy peeks in. “Hey, stranger. Can we talk?”

  I pull the comforter up to my waist and close my laptop. “Sure.”

  She comes into the room avoiding my eyes. Sitting down on the bed beside me, I hear her take a deep breath and let it go before asking, “So, you’re really doing this?”

  “What? Moving out or getting married?”

  “You better be moving out,” she says. “Jenna’s friend Mia is moving in on Sunday night.”

  Because Mia isn’t taking over the couch until Sunday, my roommates said I could sleep on it tonight and tomorrow night, for which I’m grateful. More money saved to finance my time in London.

  “My flight leaves on Sunday night at eight,” I say. “I’ll be in London on Monday morning.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “The Strand,” I say, a hostel in the theater district that’s well known by struggling actors, singers, and playwrights.

  “The choice of all wandering poets,” she says. “They have no elevator. Try to get a room on the lower floor.”

  “Good tip.”

  “And the…wedding?”

  “I don’t have a firm date yet, but soon.”

  Sammy nods, her eyes concerned as they hold mine. “Hmm. This is pretty nuts, Josh.”

  “Which part?”

  “Take your pick,” she says. “Moving out of your apartment. Flying to London on a whim. Getting married to someone you barely know.” Her eyes bug out meaningfully when she gets to that last part.

  When I told Sammy, Max, Matt, and Jenna my plans, Max and Matt told me I was crazy, and Jenna wished me luck before rushing off to tell her friend that there was now a space available in our apartment. Sammy reserved judgment, saying nothing for a day or two before meeting me on the roof with two beers on Wednesday night. Her comments were sparse but disapproving, and we ended our conversation when I got angry and walked away.

  “Max and I have been together for years,” she notes. “And we haven’t even talked about getting married. I didn’t—I mean, I didn’t even know you were looking for a wife.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Then…?”

  “I wasn’t looking for marriage, but I happened to fall for someone who is.”

  “You’re so fucking impulsive when it comes to women!”

  She’s right, and she’d know. When I first pursued Sammy, it was a little like this. I wanted her bad, and I didn’t back off until we were together. It just turned out we were better as friends than lovers in the end.

  “When I find what I want, I go for it.”

  “Well, the whole thing is just insane,” she says.

  “I know it sounds that way, but it’s what she wants.” I think about Courtney, about how much I’ve missed her these past two weeks, and about how my mind and heart have undergone a certain transformation. I don’t know if I “believe” in arranged marriage. I don’t know if it’ll work out any better than a traditional American courtship, engagement, and marriage. But I can’t bear the thought of her with someone else, and my feelings for her are genuine, so I’ve decided to take a leap. “For her, I’m willing to try.”

  “I can’t change your mind?” Sammy asks me, reaching out to wrap her fingers around my forearm.

  “Nah. I’m already in. It’s too late.”

  Her fingers brush my arm. “Do you love her, Josh?”

  I think about this for a second. I’ve asked myself the same question many times over the past few weeks, and the honest answer is “I don’t know.”

  “Running off to London to marry her makes a good case that you do.” I don’t say anything, so she continues, “I just—I wish you could take your time, you know? Date for a while. Even for a couple of months. Make sure it’s right before you get all tangled up with someone you barely know.”

  “I’m already tangled, Sam.”

  “I guess you are,” she says, sliding her hand from my arm. “If it doesn’t work out—”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “If it doesn’t work out,” she says again, her brown eyes focused like lasers on mine, “come home.”

  I grin at her. “I don’t live here anymore.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” she says, biting her bottom lip for a second before releasing it.

  For a split second, I feel like I might be picking up on a vibe from her, but the moment passes. Besides, she’s with Max, and our short-lived love affair was a long time ago. I decide I’m just imagining things.

  “Thanks, Sam.”

  She nods, then gets up from my bed. When she gets to the door, she turns around. “I’d tell you not to do anything stupid, but…” She shrugs. “Have a safe trip, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  The door closes behind her, and it occurs to me that Sammy and Dina are coming from exact opposite places where this whole marriage thing is concerned. Dina’s all like Take a chance. Your odds are good, while Sam can barely discuss it without calling me impulsive and insane. I guess my own opinion falls somewhere in the middle. Yeah, it’s impulsive. Yeah, it’s insane. But I’m taking a chance and hoping my odds are good.

  My laptop dings, and I open it up.

  Subj: MESSAGE #1 FOR CJD_NY FROM CJS_NY

  I take a deep breath and tap on the message, ignoring the stupid fourteen-year-old girl butterflies in my stomach.

  Dear CJD_NY:

  I’ve been staring at my screen for ten minutes trying to figure out what to say to you. Nothing sounds exactly right, so I decided to start with telling you how I feel: excited and nervous. Grateful that you decided to apply for this process and hopeful that our marriage will be long and happy, even though it’s happening in a really unconventional way.

  I want you to know that I am 100 percent committed to this process. I trust it. I believe in it. I want it to work, and when I set my mind to something, I rarely give up. When I meet you and take my vows, I’ll mean every word.