Corinne Mohr and Jacob Provost
Met: August 1999
Engaged: Aug. 28, 2005
Projected Wedding Date: Spring 2007
Corinne Mohr, 24, a husky-voiced Christian Dior showroom assistant with glowing green eyes, is marrying Jacob Provost, 25, a financial analyst for Alstra Capital Management. He proposed on a sunny day in a luxury suite at the Soho House, pulling out an elegant marquis-cut, white-gold-set 1.33-carat diamond from a pillowcase and saying that he wanted her to be his baby forever—and then nervously sliding the gem onto the wrong finger.
“The left one,” she corrected him.
Then he sent her for a professional, pre-booked massage—and not a minute too late. “I was so stiff!” Ms. Mohr said.
The ring came from Steelecroft Jewelers in North Carolina, where Mr. Provost was born. Now Upper East Siders, the couple met in their freshman year at East Carolina University in Greenville. “It was weird,” said Ms. Mohr, who had a premonition that they would wind up together after they shared a kiss during a game of Spin the Bottle (or was it just a dare? Neither can remember). “I really didn’t know how it was going to work.” Especially after Mr. Provost transferred to the University of North Carolina in Charlotte, four hours away.
The two of them conducted lengthy long-distance discussions on philosophy, religion and family. “I couldn’t tell him enough, and he couldn’t tell me enough,” Ms. Mohr said. “He’s intelligent, and he had a lot of opinions about things.”
She e-mailed him a prophecy of their impending nuptials—way to scare a guy away, right, ladies? But apparently not if it’s the right guy. “She was so confident about it,” Mr. Provost said.
Nor did he freak when she grabbed him for a late-night smooch after a campus party one night. That’s nice! he thought.
Soon afterwards, they holed up in his dorm room for an entire weekend, eating bad Chinese food (Is there any other kind in N.C.?), watching Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and deflecting calls from his buddies. “We were homebodies,” said Mr. Provost said. “It was very intense right away,” Ms. Mohr added. “It was like: This is it—we’re going to get married.”
First, though, their relationship had to endure a trial separation when Mr. Provost took a semester abroad in London; then there was that starter one-bedroom in Spanish Harlem selected by Ms. Mohr, who is of Puerto Rican descent. “I was definitely out of the comfort zone and on unfamiliar territory,” Mr. Provost said.
But the romance of New York City soon worked its magic. On weekends, the college sweethearts would stroll Museum Mile and go to independent movies, sometimes even stopping at Tiffany’s to do a bit of dreamy window-shopping. “Marriage was embedded in our dialogue,” Mr. Provost said. “It was understood between us that we both saw ourselves together forever—married and whatnot. It was just a matter of timing.”
Robert Drucker and Cathy Shim
Met: August 2003
Engaged: Dec. 24, 2004
Projected Wedding Date: Nov. 19, 2005
Adam’s Rib redux? Robert Drucker, 29, an insurance defense attorney, will marry Cathy Shim, 30 and also an attorney, in an interfaith ceremony at the Tribeca Grand Hotel. The bride, a Korean-American Protestant, will wear a wedding dress by Banico; and the groom, a dark-haired Jew with a penchant for hair gel, is probably just going to rent a tux.
The couple met while working for the Chelsea law firm Cheven, Keely and Hatzis. “To be honest with you, I really didn’t think much of him,” said the slender, brunette Ms. Shim. “I really thought he was kind of dorky and kind of weird.” But it was a small office, and “he kind of grew on me,” she said. “And I guess I kind of grew on him.”
A couple of months went by before Mr. Drucker asked Ms. Shim out. They had a pleasant dinner at the Bryant Park Grill—but no goodnight smooch. Shortly after their company’s holiday party, as she was waiting to catch her bus near Union Square, Mr. Drucker snuck in for a peck on the lips. Caught off-guard, his co-worker pushed him away.
“That was our sad little first kiss,” she said. “It was pleasant, I guess!”
But things got hot and heavy soon after. They awoke at Mr. Drucker’s Upper East Side studio one Christmas Eve morning, eager to exchange presents—though since they were about to embark on a cruise to Cozumel, Mexico, they’d promised not to get too extravagant.
Ms. Shim’s gift: a tchotchke featuring two kissing piggy banks. Mr. Drucker’s: two bottles of Fuji water swathed in tissue paper and placed in a festive bag. “She drinks water like a fish,” he said.
Astutely, Ms. Shim continued digging past the many folds of tissue paper, only to find a telltale black box.
“Is this a joke?” she shrieked.
Mr. Drucker almost choked on his morning Cheerios. He hadn’t expected her to find it so quickly.
Inside said box was a radiant-cut, 1.5-carat hunk of ice from Diva Diamonds, set in platinum and sandwiched between two .25-carat stones. “Oh my God,” Ms. Shim murmured.
“It was a bit of an awkward moment of engagement,” Mr. Drucker said. He was watching her nervously, remembering how once she’d told him that he’d have to exchange any engagement ring she didn’t like. Luckily, that didn’t prove necessary—Ms. Shim was utterly rapt.
“You know she’s not going to say something to be nice,” Mr. Drucker said. “But when she says nice things, you know she means it.”
A few days later, the pair set off for Mexico, where they supported each other through seasickness and health in what we devoutly hope isn’t a preview of their marriage. “Atrocious” is how Mr. Drucker described the cruise. “It was so rough and so rocky on the boat, everybody was uncomfortable.”