Page 126 of L.O.V.E

Cole:Seriously? Traveling alone with two men?

Me:Hello…business trip!

Cole: …

Me:You’re mad.

Cole: …

Lying was not my forte. Nope. And I’d suffered for my deception—four weeks of no sleep. An ulcer-like pain in my gut. Zits. Found a gray hair two days ago.

But my dark days were over. In a few short minutes, I would be free of the fib.

I stood behind the heavy red curtain, the drone of conversations filtering through and adding to my racing pulse.

“You ready, doll?” Mona asked, squeezing my sweaty hand.

“Not even a little bit,” I whispered. “Is he here? I’m too scared to look.”

“Finn promised to have him here on time. Has to bring him in through the side door when the lights are down so he won’t notice all the familiar faces. You won’t be able to see him from the stage. But he’ll be in the left corner if you want to look that direction.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“You’ll be great.” Mona kissed my cheek and then slipped away.

The spotlight fell on the stage, blinding me through the crack in the curtains. The dining room fell silent.

The bodice of my dress tightened, and I closed my eyes, drew in a slow, deep breath, then blew it out, releasing my nerves. The tiny box in my hand weighed a thousand pounds.

“Good evening,” Mona rasped. “Tonight I have a very special guest. She’s going to help me out with the first song. This is her first time on stage, so please make her feel welcome.”

The piano started. My cue. One more deep inhale, exhale. As practiced, I slipped between the heavy fabric and into the spotlight next to Mona.

She sang the first line of “Someone To Watch Over Me”, the part about love being blind.

I stood at her side, shaking harder than a chihuahua, fighting nervous tears. When it was my turn, I searched the dark to the left of the stage, hoping Cole would see on my face all that I was trying to tell him. When I sang about him being my big affair, my voice broke but, thank God, Mona stepped in until I gained my composure. She lowered her mic, and I struggled through the last verse, my chin quivering, but I managed to sing on key.

We finished the song to furious applause and whistles.

Mona stepped back into the dark, and I stood to the mic, trembling, squeezing the life out of that little box.

When the room fell silent once again, I cleared my throat and looked again to the left. “Cole Adams. According to our parents, you were the first man to ever make me smile. Apparently, I’ve loved you since the day we were born. We had a shaky start, to say the least, but…” I shook so hard my words faltered. “Oh, God.” I scratched my head. Laughed. “I had a really good speech, but I can’t remember a word. So bear with me.”

Someone whistled. Someone shouted, “You got this, girl.” More applause.

Clutching the box to my sternum, I drew a deep breath, then released my nerves in a long exhale. “Cole. You’re my one. You’ve always been my one. I want you to watch over me every day until the day we die. And I want to be the one to watch over you, too. Happy Birthday, Cole.” I held the box up in the direction where he was supposed to be seated and popped the lid. “Will you marry me?”

The audience erupted. Whoops and hollers, whistles, thunderous applause.

No Cole.

Oh, God.

No Cole.

Cole

Jesus Christ, she was beautiful. A clingy black dress hugged her curves from breasts to wobbly ankles. Her hair was pinned up at the top, long loose waves falling over her bare back, and she wore a new pair of black glasses, glamorous cat-eye frames with touches of gold. I wanted nothing more than to get her alone and help her out of that gown.

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