“Ready?” I asked innocently.
She smiled that smile that had been my saving grace at one of the darkest times of my life. “Aside from the fact that I’m being forced to share a meal in the presence of a bunch of strangers when all I want is pizza and a glass of wine….yes…I’m ready?”
I smiled. “Always with the smart comments.”
She smiled up at me as she hopped on one foot to pull up the back-strap of her stiletto. “You love it,” she replied.
She was right about that. I loved everything about this woman. Her sense of humor, the way her mind works, her capacity to love…all of it.
Kira followed me to the garage and climbed into the passenger side of my silver Bentley. Inside, she fidgeted with the radio like usual, and like always, she opted for a CD.
“You owe me a foot massage for this, you know. Tonight was supposed to be chill.”
I raised an eyebrow at Kira’s demand, which made her smack my arm lightly. “What’s that for?” She asked.
“Have you seen your feet?” I shot back playfully.
She gasped, pretending to be offended. Her expression eventually warmed with a smile and I reached across the console to grab her hand while we drove through the suburbs of D.C., headed for her favorite restaurant, Bianca’s.
Pulling into the parking lot, I scanned for familiar cars, but from the looks of things everyone I’d invited followed directions. They parked a block over so Kira wouldn’t know anything was up – except for Dee and Karl. Neither of them knew my plan for the evening, but readily accepted when I invited them out.
“I feel like having a big, fat, steak,” Kira announced. “Steak is more of a man’s entrée, but I don’t care. I could eat a whole cow right about now. I’m starving.”
I lifted my arm for her to latch on, leading the way toward the entrance. “Whatever you want,” I replied, unable to keep from smiling down on her as she brushed a stray hair from her cheek when the wind blew it out of place.
I held the door open and let Kira enter first before following her inside, searching for those I’d invited to witness the proposal. Karl waved us over to the left side of the restaurant, and the host ushered us to the rest of our party. Once we rounded the corner, I could see that Kira’s parents and a close friend of hers from work had already arrived as well. Walking over from the bar with mixed drinks in hand were my mother and another of Kira’s friends. Judging by the look on her face, my fiancée-to-be was starting to realize that something was up.
Her eyes met mine and she found me already smiling at her.
“What is this?” She asked softly as we stood beside the long table where our guests were seated. It didn’t make sense to prolong it – everyone had already arrived. So, with trembling hands and sweat beads forming at the nape of my neck just above the collar of my dress shirt, I reached inside the pocket of the suit I’d worn to work, and pulled out the velvet box that was about to change our entire lives. When I got down on one knee, Kira’s hands covered her mouth, and tears welled in the corners of her beautiful eyes.
“Kira, will you do me the honor of being my wife?” I asked with a smile plastered on my face.
She was shaking so bad that when she lowered her hand for me to slip the ring on it, I had to hold it steady.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes! I do!” she screeched in excitement.
I burst out laughing. “I think you’re supposed to wait until we’re at the altar to say that part.”
Kira stooped down to urge me to my feet. “Whatever! All I know is my answer is yes!”
The instant I was standing, she almost knocked me over with a huge hug. Everyone clapped and congratulated us, everyone except for Deanna. I noted the forced smile on her face as she eased out of her seat and disappeared in the direction of the restrooms.