Page 36 of Five Goodbyes

“That’s the point of all this, isn’t it? To keep me by your side.”

“Indeed, it is.” I pull her to me and kiss her hard before just as quickly pushing her away and giving her a stern look. “Now. Get dressed! No more funny business, and no more wasting time. You might not need to impress your parents, but I do.”

With a flourish the minx rushes into the closet and is dressed in seconds as I continue struggling to straighten my collar. Nerves. Definitely nerves. She comes over, takes my collar, and has it cooperating in seconds. She then spritzes on her favorite perfume, swipes her lips with pink, and grabs my hand. I gladly follow her out of the condo.

We hurry out to the car, our laughter echoing through the hallways. The engine roars to life, and then I speed through the streets, praying the traffic gods are on our side. Thoughts of the upcoming meeting consume my mind. I’ve been planning to ask for her parents’ blessing to marry Jasmine only moments after I realized I loved her, and now the moment is finally upon me. The weight of the ring in my pocket serves as a constant reminder of the significance of this occasion.

As we approach the elegant hotel where Jasmine’s parents are staying, my nerves intensify. I steal a quick glance at Jasmine, who’s so utterly relaxed it’s almost irritating.

“You seem remarkably calm,” I remark, my voice laced with a bit of admiration and anxiety. “Aren’t you at least a little nervous?”

She shrugs, a confident smile playing on her lips. “Hunter, I’ve seen you in action, and I know how much they already adore you. So, why worry? Besides, we make a great team. We’ll handle whatever comes our way.”

Her words comfort me, injecting a surge of courage in my veins. I park the car and open the door for Jasmine, extending my hand to help her. As she steps out gracefully, she turns to me, her eyes twinkling with anticipation.

“Shall we, Mr. Sparks?” she asks, extending her arm for me to take.

I accept the offer, a smile spreading across my lips. “We shall, Miss Anderson.”

“You can call me, future Mrs. Sparks, if you don’t mind.” We both smile at the words as they sit between us. Damn, I love the sound of that. This woman owns me.

Together, we walk toward the entrance of the hotel, our steps synchronized, and our hearts beating in rhythm together. The grand lobby greets us with its opulent décor and a subtle melody of music floating in the air. We make our way to the reception desk, where a friendly concierge greets us.

“Good morning,” the concierge says with a warm smile. “How may I assist you today?”

Jasmine’s voice is filled with confidence as she responds. “We’re here to meet Lucas and Amy Anderson. They’re staying in one of the suites. Hunter Sparks and Jasmine.”

The concierge checks his records, his fingers deftly tapping the keyboard. “Ah, yes. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson are indeed expecting you. Allow me to inform them of your arrival.” We exchange glances, excitement and nerves intertwining in our gazes. Within moments, the concierge returns with a smile.

“Mr. and Mrs. Anderson are waiting for you in the hotel’s executive lounge,” he says. “Take the elevator to the fifth floor, and you’ll find it on your left.”

We thank him, and as we step into the elevator, the tension in the air grows palpable. With each floor that passes, my heartbeat quickens. I’ve been in more adrenaline and near-death experiences than I care to count. None of them compared to this. The doors open on the fifth floor, and we follow the signs to the lounge.

I look outside as we pass windows, noting the morning sun casting a gentle glow on the crystal clear ocean, its waves shimmering like liquid diamonds. We marvel at the panoramic view from the fifth floor bay windows, the indigo expanse stretching as far as the eye can see. The rhythmic sound of waves, accompanied by the invigorating sea breeze, make its way through the few open windows. It transports most patrons to a state of tranquility. It has no impact on me whatsoever . . . not in this moment.

We step into the lounge, but don’t immediately see her parents. A friendly waiter approaches, a tray of sparkling mimosas in hand. The delicate flutes glisten with effervescence, their golden bubbles dancing to the surface. He places them before us, the tinkling sound of clinking glasses adding to the symphony of our surroundings.

Jasmine’s eyes sparkle with delight as she raises her glass. “To this magical moment, Hunter. Cheers.”

We clink our glasses together, the chilled mimosa normally tantalizes my taste buds, but I don’t get any of the vibrant notes of fresh orange juice that’s blended harmoniously with the crispness of the champagne. No, the symphony of flavors that dance on my tongue is lost on me because I’m chugging the contents in one fell gulp. I take another glass from the waiter, hoping no one notices my quick exchange of glasses.

We spot her parents and move over to them. Lucas, ever the jovial spirit, leans back in his chair, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. “Good morning mom and dad,” Jasmine says as she leans forward and kisses each of them on the cheek.

“Good morning princess,” Lucas replies before setting his attention on me. “Enjoying the refreshments, Hunter?” Nope, didn’t get away with my glass exchange. "I hope you’re ready to indulge in a breakfast fit for royalty.”

I chuckle, thankful for the playful words. It helps me relax . . . slightly. “I’m prepared for anything, Lucas. Your reputation precedes you, and I'm eager to experience your family's culinary prowess.”

Amy joins in, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Prepare yourself, Hunter. Our chef’s known for crafting the most exquisite breakfast creations. Each dish is a work of art, meticulously prepared with the finest ingredients.”

I forgot to mention that the Andersons own this luxury hotel. They own half the world so it’s not surprising. How has Jasmine fallen for me . . . a normal man? She literally has the world at her fingertips, but it’s me she wants. I won’t question it because it’s not something I want to analyze. I love her. She loves me. Can it really be that simple?

As we immerse ourselves in the ambience of the place, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee envelops us. The rich, intoxicating scent wafts through the air, intertwining with the tantalizing smell of sizzling bacon. The masterpiece of breakfast delights unfolds before our eyes as the waiter places an array of elegantly plated dishes on the table.

“Coffee. Now.” Jasmine beckons.

“Late night?” Jasmine’s mother asks. The sly smile creeping up tells me she already knows the answer before she asked the question.

“I didn’t sleep well. Tossed and turned all night. Must’ve been that late glass of wine with you guys.”

---