Oren checked the calendar. It had been a week since he'd called Jorick, and he was no nearer to a solution. He had three days left until the fourteenth. Three days to craft the perfect proposal.

"It can't be done," imaginary Jesslynn scolded. "You should have taken more time, put more thought into it."

He shook off his discouragement. He'd spent the last two days pouring through books of poetry, looking for just the right prose. Nothing seemed to fit, and for the ...