Page 28 of David's Proposal

Maybe he sent someone new who hasn’t even seen me before.

Maybe. Maybe…

What am I doing now dressed like this?

All I need is a pointy black witch hat and a Halloween pumpkin jack-o-lantern candy bucket, and I go trick-or-treating.

I push off the tree and walk back.

Tonight won’t happen.

I scoop out my phone from my jacket and almost tap David’s name to call him, but something stops me.

I’m curious about that hotel.

He must’ve booked a room downtown if he had sent the car to pick me up.

And if he booked a room downtown, I can still go there.

Maybe I’m making the trip downtown for nothing.

Perhaps he’s changed his plans for the evening… Now that I’m not coming.

I only wanted to be a little mysterious, and look how it all turned out.

I have no cash on me, but I have my phone. I could use the app, get a car, and pay for it with my phone.

I stop in front of my house and look at the door.

It’s a bit ridiculous to come up with such a plan while freezing my butt off with only a narrow piece of fabric up my butt, but what kind of aspiring writer would I be if I didn’t have a shred of adventurous spirit in me?

Less frantic, I go to the door and check the threshold.

Since I’m here, I open the door and put the groceries on the table by the wall before picking up the other box.

It’s a gift. A beautiful gift wrapped in vintage looking printed paper done in tones of white and light caramel with a pattern of old postcards and iconic sites.

Paris. Rome. New York.

It’s a nice touch.

I unwrap it swiftly and reveal a brown box with a lid and a few letters embossed across. It must be the store he’d bought it from.

My eyes go wide, and my nostrils fill with the unmistakable smell of freshly printed books as I retrieve a foiled hardcover special edition of ‘Owned’ by L. Carter and two more romance books by bestseller authors.

I hope he didn’t inspire those two authors to write their stories as well, or I’d be royally pissed.

One is a fantasy romance. The other is a romantic comedy.

I smile.

I don’t know why, but I do. I find his gesture touching.

And I chide myself for being so easy, but the truth is, I don’t remember getting a gift from a man who put so much thought into selecting it for me.

Maybe he was just lucky when he selected those. Or maybe he thought about what I would truly like.

Or maybe he had someone do it for him.Maybe I'm blowing it out of proportion, and his assistant picked these for him. And ultimately, for me.

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