Meant to Marry Me

"The winner of the New Entrepreneur of the Year award is... Trent Walker of Walker Accounting Services!"

Applause rang out across the room at the MCs words. Trent stood and buttoned his jacket, making his way the few steps to the podium, imagining the clapping was as much for the fact that his award was the last one of the evening, and everyone would be able to get the hell out of there as soon as he finished speaking, as it was for him. He didn't plan to talk for long.

A beautiful woman in an evening gown handed him the trophy. It was heftier than it looked, which took him by surprise. The figure was a man and a woman in business attire standing atop a pillar, all done in gold, and the bottom placard was inscribed with the name of the award, his name, his firm's name, and the year. It really was an honor to receive it, even if he didn't like this sort of an event and certainly didn't like having to speak in front of crowds. "Thank you," Trent said to the woman, who smiled broadly and patted his arm, her fingers lingering a little longer than necessary on his bicep. He shook the MC's offered hand and then turned to the podium. The lights obscured much of the crowd, but he knew they were there. Remembering what Bree had told him about singling out one person to talk to until he felt comfortable shifting his gaze to someone else, he took a deep breath. He used a similar tactic when he was presenting in front of large groups, either at meetings to explain his services or when other accounting associations had asked him to speak, but this was different. This room was full of people from all walks of life, not just his fellow numbers people, and the idea that he could say something stupid and embarrass himself was an ever present threat in the forefront of his mind.

When he looked out at the crowd, it was easy to spot Celia's smiling face so near the stage. So, deciding it was just as well that he speak directly to her, at least to begin with, he pulled his index cards out of the inside pocket of his jacket and began to recite the speech he'd prepared.

"Thank you all so very much for this honor," Trent began, clearing his throat. The microphone was slightly too short for him, but he didn't dare attempt to adjust it for fear he'd break it. "In a room full of successful, hardworking individuals and firms, being singled out for such an award is beyond words." He continued with the speech he'd labored over for hours since he'd found out he'd have to give one, taking his time to thank Celia by name and other individuals that worked for his firm. He thanked Bree, too, even though she wasn't there. The applause at the mention of her name let him know others in the room were aware of Bree Matthews, the famous singer who'd gone through so much. Finally, he sang the praises of the beautiful city who'd so quickly accepted them as one of their own and said he understood why so many people loved Nashville. "While it may look like a big city on the map, Nashville is a small town at heart, the sort of place that makes everyone feel welcome. Thank you all very much," he said, raising the statue, so glad to be done with the speech. He put the cards back into his pocket and nodded with gratitude one more time before following the lady in the gown off of the stage, breathing a sigh of relief that the hard part was over.

At least, he hoped that was the hard part.

Back stage, the official photographer of the event was finishing up, taking photographs of the winner who'd received her award right before Trent's name was called. He heard the MC thank everyone for coming and absently wondered if Celia would be allowed to come back here with him. He hoped she would. Otherwise, she might get bored. Or she might go find Monica and end up in a cat fight....

The photographer was a woman who appeared to be a little older than him, with long dark hair. She looked bored as she asked the woman in front of him to shift her pose, but once she was done with the previous winner and turned her attention to him, her expression changed, and she perked up. "Well, hello there," she said. "Right this way, Mr. Walker."

Trent raised an eyebrow and followed her instructions, wondering how she knew his name. Perhaps she had a list of winners or another guide she was following. Once he was standing where she'd directed him, she gave him some other instructions on how to hold the trophy. "That's perfect," she said, looking through the lens of her camera where it sat on a tripod in front of her. "You're a natural. Have you ever done any modeling?"

Trying not to laugh, Trent waited until she'd snapped the photo to say, "Uh, no." The question was ironic. He'd been far too close to the modeling world once before, but he'd never been a part of it. He was ready to put that part of his life far, far behind him.

"Well, you should consider it," she said, snapping a few more pictures. "With a face so photogenic and a physique like that, you would be very popular."

Not knowing how to respond to that without sounding like a jerk, Trent focused on letting her take the pictures, wishing she'd hurry and finish so he could go. Eventually, she seemed satisfied that she'd gotten enough good shots. "All right, Mr. Walker. All done," she said, lowering her camera. "Can you hold on just a sec before you head out, though?"

Raising an eyebrow, Trent said, "Sure," wondering what in the world she was up to.

The photographer stepped over to a small table where her camera bag and other equipment was sitting. She set the camera down and plucked something else out of her bag. "Here's my card," she said, her fingertips brushing his as he automatically reached out to take it. "Call me if you ever need a photographer, or if you're interested in doing any sort of modeling work. I have connections." She winked at him in a way that made him wish men wore engagement bands. "Thanks," Trent said, wishing he could have found a polite way to decline the card, but since there was no way he could do that now, he put it in the inside pocket of his jacket and stepped over to the director of the program who was waiting for him, alongside a few people who appeared to be reporters. He imagined they'd want to ask him a few questions about how he felt receiving the reward for local newspapers and online columns.