He’d brought along a back-up plan as well. In case the business with saying things out loud went sideways. A gift, with an ulterior motive: for her to never wear that paisley-print hairband ever again. It was an affront to the entire concept of style. He’d only witnessed it the once, in her home when she’d been all cold-feet-stage-fright-Granger—and where did that anxiety even come from, her brilliance oozed from her every pore—and anyways he was determined to never witness it again.