We’re celebrating, he said.
As I stared at my closet, I found myself wondering what one wore to a proposal dinner. Having never imagined myself being proposed to while at a stuffy restaurant, I really didn’t know.
Honestly, I didn’t expect to ever be in this position at all, stuffy restaurant or not.
Should I trust a man who thought a fancy dinner out was the perfect way to ask me this very important question?
Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself that it didn’t matter where or when, only that I would be marrying the right person.
And I would be, regardless of what I wore or how much I hated the restaurant.
I pulled out three dresses and laid them out on the bed, trying to decide which would be more flattering. I decided on the sexiest of the three, and I squeezed myself into the little black dress that made my boobs look amazing and gave the illusion that I actually had a little junk in my trunk.
By the time I’d finished spritzing lavender perfume in the air around me, the doorbell rang, marking the arrival of my very punctual date.
“Holy shit, you look amazing,” Jackson said, his eyes roaming my body. He handed me a huge bouquet of red roses drowning in baby’s breath.
I hated baby’s breath.
It was the thought that mattered, right?
“Thank you!” I smiled. “They’re lovely. Let me put them in some water.”
His face broke out into a cocky grin as we walked into the kitchen.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He nearly laughed. “Just happy to be spending a night out with you.”
Pulling out a large vase, I quickly arranged the flowers in a few inches of water.
Then, we proceeded to make our way to the restaurant.
“Fancy,” I remarked as we pulled up to the valet at the entrance.
“Well, it is a special night.” He smiled.
I gulped in response, hoping he hadn’t seen my nervousness.
The restaurant he’d chosen for the night was new and hip. It was all anyone could talk about in the city. A well-known celebrity chef had moved in, taken over a run-down building right on the banks of the James River, and transformed it into one of the finest places to eat on the East Coast.
I should have been excited.
I should have felt flattered.
Instead, I was nauseous as I looked over the menu and saw nothing but meat and fish.
“Do you think they could make something special?” he asked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think to ask about vegetarian options when I made the reservation over a month ago.”
“I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about it.” I smiled lamely.
The waiter was extremely accommodating, and the chef was indeed able to whip up a vegetable risotto that was to die for. I just hoped it didn’t come with a killer price tag to match.
“Isn’t this nice? Just the two of us, all dressed up for a night on the town,” Jackson said, smiling from ear to ear.
“Yes, it’s lovely, really. Thank you, Jackson.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
A table next to us erupted into shrieks of joy and clapping. I looked over to see a young man on one knee, holding a ring box above his heart.
“Yes! Yes!” the young girl answered with enthusiasm.
The entire restaurant melted into oohs and aahs for the happy couple.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
“I hope you don’t mind, but before we arrived, I took the liberty of ordering dessert for us. I wanted to have them make something special.”
Of course he did.
“And I also ordered some champagne,” he added with a wicked grin.
“Are you going to make a toast?” I asked, feeling my anxiety rising higher and higher.
“I guess you will just have to wait and see.” He winked.
Oh, please, someone make him stop.
Our luscious chocolate torte was served, and I noticed Jackson watching me intensely.
“Something wrong?” I asked, dipping my fork into my dessert once again.
“Nope. Happy as a clam.”
The champagne was served, and as Jackson held his glass up in the air, his eyes drifted down to my glass.
“Here’s to our happy life,” he said.
I lifted my flute and touched his. Our eyes locked as we tilted the glasses to our lips, and I felt a spark of heat zing down to my core. My eyes looked down at the table as I set my glass on the tabletop.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“No, absolutely not. You?”
“Still happy.”
I covered my laugh with a fake cough, bringing my hand up to my mouth as a diversion.
He thought he’d won this round, but what he didn’t know was that I had been winning all along.
Jackson
Every last detail of my plan had been orchestrated flawlessly.
From the bouquet of flowers I knew she’d hate to the overly fancy restaurant, Liv was having the worst night ever.
And the best part was, she was biting her tongue to stay quiet about it.