“Those are for you.”
“They should be for us. Share with me. I want you to enjoy this, too.”
I follow her lead and try one.
They’re surprisingly good.
And the taste is familiar. I’m remembering Vegas. Orange stains.
“What a lovely night,” Amanda says with a sigh. The wind’s picking up, and the sound of people walking on the streets below filters up, the conversation boisterous.
And then the conversation gets louder.
And louder.
“I think he said up here,” Dad says, loud and clear.
“I’ve had dinner plenty of times at Consuela’s, Dad. She’ll greet us and tell us where to go.” That’s Declan.
“Andrew said he rented the entire rooftop.” And Terry.
Amanda gives me a confused look. “Is that Declan I hear? And you rented the entire rooftop? Why?”
I stand quickly and pull the damn ring out of my pocket.
I told them all to come at 8:30, and Amanda was late, so—
“CONGRATULATIONS!” Dad booms as he explodes through the main door, followed quickly by Declan and Shannon, then Pam carrying Spritzy in a new red leather handbag that matches her red dress. Terry’s in the mix, and is that Josh?
“Andrew? What is going on?” Amanda asks, taking in the sudden rush of all these people we know.
People who just interrupted the most important moment of my life.
Our life.
“James!” Consuela appears, giving Dad a hug and a double kiss on the cheeks. “So good to see you, but your timing is lousy. Andrew has not yet completed his task.”
“Task? He hasn’t asked her yet?”
Amanda grabs my hand. “Asked me...what?”
I open my palm. The glow of the lights makes the purple velvet glitter in the night.
“Oh!”
I guess I’m doing this with an audience.
“I brought you here tonight because I love you.”
I bend down on one knee and look up into her lovely, captivating face.
“You are everything to me. I spent two years fighting it, punctuated by two stupid kisses in closets that were driven by a part of me that couldn’t stay away from you.”
“Stupid kisses?” One corner of her mouth turns up in a smile, her eyes on me, so big the irises don’t touch her eyelids, and I could lose myself in her. Isn’t that the point? To do so with intention.
And a ring.
“Yes. Stupid. None of your kisses are stupid in and of themselves. I made them stupid. I knew, more than two years ago, when you pulled me into my office closet to hide from Shannon that I was hopelessly falling for someone who would challenge me. And I was weak.”
She gasps.
“That’s right—weak. I was too weak to let myself admit I wanted you from the first moment I laid eyes on you in that meeting. The one where my stupid brother met the love of his life. Turns out I do copy my big brother—at least in one way.”
She smiles.
“We both met the love of our life in that boardroom meeting that day.”
“Oh, Andrew,” she says with a sigh. Her voice trembles, wobbling like my heart, which is flopping in my chest like a poorly-programmed Mars Rover robot in a cyclone, screaming Please say yes please say yes please say yes.
I’ve stacked the deck. Like walking into an intense negotiation with a great deal at stake, I’ve done my homework. My plans are airtight. I’m pretty certain this deal is going my way, and that the terms and conditions will be satisfactory to both parties.
Mergers are delicate business situations.
But heart and soul mergers are another animal entirely.
And then there’s the body...
I’ve accounted for every contingency I can think of, save one.
If she says no, I don’t know what to do.
Please say yes.
“This is my ring for you. I hope it’s my penultimate ring, and that the final one will be our wedding band.”
She gasps again, one hand splayed across her collarbone, the other reaching for my shoulder, stretching down. All my earlier nervousness fades. Memories of Vegas, of awakening to the rings on our hands, of the insane search for the truth, the exhalations of relief that we weren’t married, all come barreling into my stream of consciousness.
Unnecessary panic and worry. Wasted anxiety. Childish agonizing.
It’s all gone.
I have never been more sure of any choice in my life.
And now I hope she feels the same certainty. Please, I think. Please.
Looking up at her, the stars suspended in the dark sky above her, framing her as if she’s a celestial body, I don’t see Amanda.
I see my future. She is the love of my life, but even more—she is love itself.
Life would not be the same without that love.
“Please,” I say, struggling to keep my voice steady. I open the box, the hinge like a heart valve. “We were practically married already.”
Her laugh combines with a funny sniffling sound, and the hand on my shoulder digs in.
“But this is a first for me,” I continue, determined to get this right. “I’ve never proposed to anyone before.” Our eyes meet. She sends a charged signal through me, the words easier and harder, the struggle to take infinite emotion and distill it down to a few paltry sentences too brutal.
“Me, too,” she murmurs, her smile adorable. “My first. So show me how this is done. You’re the CEO. You take the lead.”
I laugh, the sound more a pressure valve than true amusement, and startle to find we’re surrounded by an audience that laughs along with me. I’d invited Dec and Shannon, Dad and Pam, and Terry, Josh and Grace to come to dinner after our engagement, to celebrate with joy, but all the crazy delays meant that I was proposing too late.