Page 93 of The Twelve Months of Christmas
“Wyatt is a twit, and a narcissist. This man actually has some common sense and knows when he sees a good thing. And trust me, you are.”
“You might be slightly prejudiced,” Arianna said. “I’m not that special.”
“You certainly are. You’re starting your own business, becoming an influencer, helping create these fun holiday celebrations.”
“That’s mostly Sunny,” Arianna said, waving away her mother’s praise. “She’s the creative one.”
“You are, too,” said Mia. “And, even more important, you are noble and kind. That is a winning combination. So don’t give up on yourself, and don’t give up on love.”
“Well, I’m not going to give up on myself,” Arianna vowed. Love, however, was a different matter.
Still, it would sure be nice to get extra neighborly with Alden Brightman.
Molly was almost too tired to go out with Reggie for burgers. Almost. But she rallied.
Still, she looked tired enough for him to say, “Molly, I’d sure like to save you from working so hard,” he said as they settled at their table in Noah’s Ark. Three days in a row they’d spent time together. It felt so comfortable they could have been together for a lifetime.
“Work is a good thing, and I don’t need saving,” she said. “Although I do wish that people would appreciate me just a little bit more. Not only me, all their postal workers.”
“Everyone takes the mail person for granted,” Reggie said.
She sighed. “I know. And I guess we don’t deserve any special rewards, considering the fact that we’re only doing our job.”
“But you go above and beyond. Molly, if you didn’t have to think about money or retirement, would you still be working?”
“It’s a moot point. I do have to think about money and retirement.”
“I’d like you to think about something new,” he said.
She looked at him, puzzled.
“About a different kind of future.”
Now she was suspicious. “Don’t tell me, you have a business opportunity for me.”
He chuckled. “No. But I do have a proposition. Marry me.”
“Marry you?”
“I know we haven’t been dating all that long.”
“We sure haven’t,” she said. Even if it felt like they’d been together for years, even though she’d fantasized about running off together, she was realistic enough to know that it was way too soon for this kind of talk.
“But we knew each other long before we started dating, and we’ve spent a lot of time together. I know you care for me, and I am head over heels in love with you. And I want to take care of you.”
“Reggie, I can take care of myself.”
“Okay, then, I want to spoil you. Marry me and you can quit tomorrow.”
She laughed. “And we’d live on love.”
“No, we’d live on my money.”
“Your money,” she repeated. She’d seen how he was living on his money. She was sure if she looked uppenny-pincheron Wikipedia, she’d see a picture of Reggie and his ancient car.
“I know, I don’t exactly look like a millionaire.”
“Money isn’t everything,” she said, not wanting him to think she was some kind of materialistic gold digger. Anyway, if she were, she’d be digging around someone other than Reggie.
