Page 16 of A Holiday Lift
It didn’t matter that the holiday was over, we went to see the tree, saw a Broadway play, and walked around Central Park hand in hand.
My client returns. “We would like another meeting,” he requests.
“Can you give me a few days? Let’s get through the holiday and regroup.”
“I will discuss it with the owners and let you know in a few hours.”
That’s the best I can ask for. “Flights are limited, Jon,” I remind him. “I won’t be able to get out until after the holiday, just know that.”
He nods. “I understand.”
I will beg, borrow, and steal not to have my plans thwarted. Everything was supposed to be set in motion last night, but I got stuck here.
“Thank you. Send me an email, it’s late and I need to get some rest.”
“Thank you, Dean. I’ll be in touch.”
And with that, I close my laptop and head home, trying to get my thoughts arranged on how to still have it all come together.
* * *
“Dean? Baby, wake up,”Holly’s soft voice calls me from the edge of consciousness. I feel her fingers rake through my hair.
My eyes open, and I find the woman I love staring down at me. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“Come here,” I say, making room for her to snuggle beside me. “I’m sorry about dinner.”
Holly gets comfortable. “It was fine. Our mothers are now best friends, and I was able to spend some much-needed time with them. It was nice, and it worked out. How did the meetings go?”
I tuck my one arm up under my head, running my other hand against Holly’s spine. “Not well. I don’t know where the hell it went crazy, but . . . I’m pretty sure I’m going to be heading out there.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s the job, right?”
She chuckles softly. “It’s definitely what we deal with now. Remember when our biggest issue was the pitch?”
“Remember how I kicked your ass so many times?”
Holly lifts her head, looking up at me. “I think you’re confused.”
“Who got the account when we battled?” I ask with my brow raised.
“You only got it because I ended up skipping my pitch to go to California.”
“Ahh. I remember that now.”
Holly shakes her head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”
I stare at her, my heart in my throat because this isn’t how I planned it. While everything was supposed to be special and perfect last night, for some reason, this moment feels . . . right.
“Marry me,” I say and shift to sit up, taking her hands in mine. “Marry me, Holly. That’s what I want you to do with me. I love you. I had this grand plan to propose last night, and then I was going to do it tonight. But you’re here, looking at me, and I can’t . . . I can’t think of anything else. I want to be your husband, and I probably shouldn’t have done it like this, but—”
Her hand touches my lips, silencing me. “Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?” Tears fill her eyes, and she smiles. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
