Page 108 of The Secret

Her head flicked to mine. “Seriously, just marry the guy.”

Murray’s laugh was loud and belly shaking, in total contrast to the murderous glare I shot her. He pulled me into him and kissed my head. “One step at a time, but I’m glad you approve.”

She grinned at me, taking no notice of the daggers I was firing her way.

“Thanks for coming, Payton, we really appreciate it. I’ve put Bell down and left out her bottle in case she wakes up, but she should be fine. Barclay’s been fed, and Graham on the front desk will be up to take him out. Help yourself to anything you want, or call down to Graham and he’ll order something in.”

That got her attention. She tried to act nonchalant, but her eyes still saidholy fuck. “Thank you, I’ll be fine. I’m just going to catch up on some Netflix and eat ice-cream in bed.”

I smirked, because even a babysitting stint wouldn’t break Payton’s Sunday night ritual of her version of Netflix and chill. “Sounds good to me, but should we all leave and walk downstairs?”

Murray checked his watch, “Yes, we need to go or we’ll be late.”

“For the big surprise?”

“Exactly. Except…” He made a show of checking me over as though taking the role of an expert tailor, then reached into his inner pocket, pulling out a dark red box, and opened it. “You’re missing something.”

Payton’s gasped echoed mine, both of which could have been heard across the Park, and followed with anotherholy fuck. I, myself, was speechless and partially blinded by the sparkle on the long, drop earrings, where tiny links of pavé held a diamond the size of a grape. I peered back up at Murray, his eyes eager and seeking approval.

“I don’t know what to say.”

He chuckled, removing one and, with the greatest care, fastened it in my lobe, followed by the other. I rolled my thumbs over the clasps, testing the security of them, not daring to move in case they fell from the weight. The true weight of them, however, felt significantly more than the considerable carats they actually were, in the heaviness and confusion sitting in the center of my heart. But as always, the confusion was blinded by his brilliance and maybe it didn’t matter, maybe nothing mattered except him and me.

“They’re beyond stunning. Thank you.” Even in my heels I needed to reach on my tiptoes to kiss him.

“No, you’re beyond stunning. These are merely shiny.”

“Marry. Him.” Payton hissed loudly in my newly shiny ear, killing any moment we were having.

* * *

My hand was still clutched in his and resting on his lap, where it had been the entire journey, as the Range Rover pulled up outside a door on the east side of The Met.

“This is the surprise? Aren’t we supposed to be here anyway?” I winked at him.

“Stop being a smart arse.” He leaned over for a quick smack of my lips, but not so quick that it didn’t leave a hint of the cherry red lipstick I was wearing.

I wiped it off with my thumb. “I learned from the best.”

The driver opened his door and Murray hopped out, running around to open my door for me, extending his hand so I could step down without toppling.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you. I’m so fucking lucky to be here with you on my arm. These events are so dull usually. You look blindingly beautiful tonight, Miss Hawkes. It’s really very unfair on all the other guests, not to mention the artwork. Everyone will be staring at you.”

The familiar heat of a blush rose through me, warming me from my toes to the ends of my hair, which had miraculously stayed in place. I still hadn’t gotten used to all the compliments he bestowed on me.

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself,” which was the understatement of the century.

“I think Payton summed us up well then.” He kissed my cheek as I noticed a man walking toward us. “I like her a lot. She seems fun.”

Payton and Murray were actually very similar, which might have something to do with why I was so comfortable with him. Always joking, never taking life too seriously, not to mention their love of winding me up.

“She has her moments.”

I turned to the man as he reached us. From a distance, it looked like he’d been dressed in suit, but up close, I could see it was the uniform of The Met officials.

“Mr. Williams, Miss Hawkes,” the man greeted us, Murray shaking his outstretched hand. “I’m Todd Palmerson, the head curator of The Met. Welcome to the museum.”

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