“I can’t tell what it is, but it shouldn’t be in there.” She leaned over the edge of the water, and I had a sudden flashback to the time she’d fallen into my bathtub, our bathtub now. “Can you believe people?”
I grabbed her arm and pulled her back a step. Ready to save another day, I went behind the fountain to grab the net. I knew exactly where I’d left it. Aaand fuck. It wasn’t there.
“Maybe someone had a wish he needed to come true, babe.”
I quickly searched through the supply closet, then around the entire fountain. Gone.
“In the middle of the lobby?” she grumbled. “What were they wishing for? A longer lunch?”
I’d only put it down fifteen minutes ago and hadn’t seen anyone in this area who might’ve had an emergency requiring a pool net. So where the hell was it?
“Well,” I called out, “maybe he was wishing the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with would feel the same.”
“Doubt it,” she said. “Oh well. I’ll ask the janitor to grab it tonight after we leave.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” For a lot of reasons, including that I didn’t want to marry a janitor. Without a more logical or dry solution, I kicked off my shoes and rolled up my jeans.
“What are you—?”
“Actually”—I climbed onto the ledge and tried to keep the grimace off my face as freezing cold water poured over my feet—“I bet that’s exactly what he was thinking. He’d probably hoped she wouldn’t see it until he had a pool net, but hey, can’t have everything, right?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” I mumbled, slowly dipping one foot in and searching for the bottom with my toes. Not even close. So I sucked it up and started lowering myself into the water.
“Want to make a wish?” My only wish was that this water wasn’t deep enough to reach my balls.
Another few inches and my wish wouldn’t have come true.
“Carson, wait. You’re getting soaked. Let’s just ask someone from the building to grab it later.”
“Nope. No, that’s not a good idea.” I waded through the water, clenching my teeth harder every time a new area of skin got wet. When the ball was just in front of my feet, I took a deep breath and steeled myself to reach for it.
“I’m exhausted, and you think now is a good time to go swimming? Can we please go home?”
“Just a sec, babe.” I may have squealed as the chill soaked through my sleeve, but I got hold of the damn ball and yanked it out of the water.
“Is that—? What is that?” Her voice was tinged with suspicion, or maybe it was disbelief that her boyfriend had turned out to be such a wimp about frigid water. I didn’t want to know.
As much as I wished I could run for the side and vault out of this arctic runoff, I walked back to her slowly, terrified of what I had to do next.
I kept the ball behind my back and ignored all the stares of the workmen who should’ve been minding their own business but obviously didn’t want to miss the most humbling moment of my life.
“I finally read the original story of The Frog Prince,” I said when I was a few feet away from her. “Turns out, I’d remembered it completely wrong. Do you know how the story goes?”
She inhaled deeply and then shook her head. “Tell me.”
I couldn’t feel the cold of the water anymore, had stopped caring that I was soaking wet or that people might be watching us.
Only one thing mattered now. Our story.
“Once upon a time, a beautiful princess accidentally dropped her golden ball into a pond.” I slowly brought the ball in front of me and held it out to her. “Luckily, a devilishly handsome frog came along and agreed to get it back for her.”
Her eyes were watering, darting between me and the ball. “In exchange for a kiss.”
“Oh, so you’ve heard it?” When I smiled, I realized I wasn’t even nervous anymore. This was Lane. How could I ever be afraid of Lane, other than a few days a month?
“I’ve never heard it quite like this,” she said, biting her lip to keep it still.
“When we met, you told me you turned men into frogs. I never believed that, by the way. What I did believe was that you somehow turned this frog into a man.” When I touched my chest, water flew off my sleeve and landed in my face.
Here’s the big moment. Don’t screw it up. “A man who wants to spend the rest of his life thanking you. And proving it was worth it.”
I waited until I was just in front of her before I cracked open the orb. Carefully. Because I wasn’t up to fishing a diamond out of the water.
When I separated the halves, Lane gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth. Damn it, I was kind of hoping I could get an answer out of that thing.
“I’d get down on one knee,” I said, “but this water would freeze both my balls, so…”
“Yes.”
“Will you marry me?”
Her answer didn’t register until she said it again. “Yes, Carson. Yes, I’ll marry you.” She took the ball from me, set it down on step, and took out her ring. “But only in exchange for a kiss.”
“How about a lot of kisses?”
“If you insist.”
One of the workmen tossed a towel at me. Since I was staring at the love of my life, I caught it with my shoulder and the side of my head.
“Gee, thanks.” It wasn’t much more than a rag, but I took it gratefully. I’d already screwed up more than I wanted to. With my luck, slipping on the water I tracked everywhere and landing on my ass would be what she remembered most.
Lane pulled me toward her by the collar. “Come here.”
Actually, I take that back.
I don’t think either of us would remember anything more than that kiss.
36
Laney
I spent all day at the building downtown, frantically wiping down each of the bench/table combos I’d built. As if everyone would hate them if there were a single fingerprint on them. As if there wouldn’t be thousands of new fingerprints on every single surface every single day after the lobby had officially been revealed and hundreds of people trudged through the area tomorrow.
After all, I made furniture. Beautiful, sleek-looking pieces of art, but still furniture. And furniture was meant to be used.
The people who brought their grubby hands through here tomorrow on their way to work or appointments would obviously want to touch them, trace the lines in each piece of wood I’d painstakingly chosen for its beauty, then carved, formed, sanded, and lacquered. Laptops, purses, and phones would be dumped on them carelessly by those who didn’t see them the same way I did. Who didn’t know how hard I’d worked or how proud I was of each piece.
At five o’clock, I had to let it go and get ready for the unveiling. First thing I did was carefully take my new engagement ring out of its necklace setting and slip it back onto my finger.
It was heavy and I was still getting used to wearing it, but man, did I love it. I knew it would only take a few days before I’d start to feel naked without it on my finger.
I raced home to shower and change into my gown. Not a dress, a gown. Less like a Cinderella-type puff and more like something on the red carpet at the Academy Awards.
It was white, form-fitting most of the way down, and made my boobs look great. The chiffon layers of the lower part bounced with every step I took and made me feel beautiful from the second I tried it on at Hillary’s house. She’d bought it as an engagement gift to herself a week ago. But, when I went by her and Eric’s place this morning and told her my plan for tonight, she screamed, sprinted in and back out of their bedroom, and shoved a garment bag into my arms.
Inside was the most perfect thing I’d ever seen.
I slipped into it, adjusted my breasts, then put my robe on top, carefully tucking up the chiffon pieces that hung out. Not only would the extra layer of coverage keep me from getting makeup on it, I also didn’t want Carson to see it until we w
ere at the event.
I wore my hair up in a twist and put my makeup on with more care than I’d ever used, following one of the countless YouTube tutorials I’d nervously watched every chance I could all day.
Huh. Smudging eyeliner was not the same as smearing it. Damn it, I should’ve practiced earlier. Or watched more what-not-to-do tutorials.
I cursed and started over, wondering why I’d spent so damn much money on fancy new makeup when it would’ve been so much smarter to buy fancy new hands that knew how to use the shit.
Carson was probably in shock that I was putting so much effort in, but he didn’t say anything. All he had to do to look fantastic was put on a suit and run a hand through his hair, the bastard. He watched me silently with a small smile on his lips as I frantically, but gently, wiped the mess off my face. If I rubbed any harder, I would’ve had to color-correct for the redness, and I had no idea how to do that.
“Stop staring!”
“Stop worrying, babe.” He pushed off the doorjamb he’d been leaning on and gave me a hug. “Believe me, from what I can see of that dress, no one’s going to be able to take their eyes off your rack long enough to see your face.”
“Cute, but not helpful.” I pulled the neck of the robe higher and retied the belt. Then I shoved him out of my way so I could get back to work. “Go away.”
He laughed. “Lane, you’re gorgeous without all that crap. Just take a deep breath.”
I tried. In for two, out for two.
“That was unbelievably hot.” His eyes rested firmly on my terrycloth-covered chest. “Do it again. Please.”
“You’re such a dick.” A dick who somehow always knew how to make me smile.
“Yeah well”—He pointed at his chest—“this dick”—and then at his crotch—“and this dick will both be leaving in ten minutes. If you’re not ready, you’ll have to walk there, alone. At night. Looking like that. So I suggest you hurry.”
I knew he’d never leave without me, but having a deadline helped me get over myself and focus.
Despite my best efforts and incredible will, sadly I didn’t magically turn into a supermodel. But I looked good, I felt good, and asking for more would just be greedy.
“One minute till departure,” he yelled from the living room.
I grabbed my shoes and hopped into them as I moved. Makeup? Check. Hair done-ish? Check. Dress and shoes? Check. Bag?
“Damn it, where’d I put my—?”
He stood in the open doorway, my purse hanging over his shoulder.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous, babe. But more importantly, how do I look?”
Until now, I’d thought the reveal of my first commissioned art installation was what made this night the most important of my life. I’d fought all my doubts, along with the doubts of everyone I’d ever met, that I could make it as an artist.
Actually, that wasn’t true. Carson had never doubted me. Not once.
“Are robes part of a new trend I don’t know or care about?”
“Oops.” I looked down at myself. “Right. I’ll be one more second.” I grabbed my coat and went back into the bedroom so he couldn’t see me. I dumped the robe, ran my hands over the dress, then covered its gorgeousness back up with a coat that was way too long and too heavy for the weather.
When I came out, he was staring at his watch.
“Geez, Carson! Come on already! We need to go.”
Smiling, he held the door for me, whispering, “You got this, babe,” as I went past him.
“Thanks for putting up with me.” And just like that, all the stress and anxiety I’d had about the evening was completely gone.
* * *
And just like that, it all came flooding back as soon as we pulled up to the building. There were already people standing around, dressed up and chatting on the steps leading up to the front doors.
Carson took care of the valet and came around the car to get me. I hadn’t even opened the door.
“You coming?” he asked after opening it. He waited for my reply—one that didn’t come—and then pulled me out of the car.
“I think it’s time for a reality check, babe. As amazing as you are and as your art is, none of these people are here for that. They came for the free booze, fancy snacks, and to show off their wardrobes. Okay?” With one arm around my waist and his other hand squeezed in between both of mine, he walked/pushed me up the steps and into the building.
“I swear to you, Lane, in an hour, they won’t even remember what your face looks like. All they’ll remember is how sexy you are, how great you are with wood, and the bad pun they could make putting those two things together. Everything else they’ll black out. The best part is, we don’t care. Because the only thing we want them to remember is your name every time they pass through this lobby.”
“You’re right.” Or he would’ve been right in any other circumstance. But tonight I’d be doing a lot more than blushing, shaking hands, and thanking people.
He gasped when he helped me out of my coat and got the full view of my gown. “Holy shit, babe. You’re fucking beautiful. I take back everything I said before—they’re all going to remember what you look like. I know I don’t plan on ever forgetting how gorgeous you look tonight."
“Always so charming,” I teased, but inside I was doing a little celebratory dance. He loved the dress as much as I did.
37
Laney
They’re here to see the lobby, not to see me. They’re here to see the lobby, not to see me.
This thought came back to me every few minutes throughout the reception. When people came up to congratulate me for creating something so beautiful, so complex and meaningful, all I could focus on was the ring on my finger and what was going to happen after John’s dedication speech.
Carson was intent on making sure I met everyone who had anything to do with the art world, architecture, and design. So I couldn’t spend nearly enough time with the people I actually wanted to talk to—Hillary and Eric, my mom and dad, Hayden and Andi, even Renee and Anna.
Right after a woman I’d never seen before and I were done air-kissing and I’d finished thinking, “Who the hell decided air-kissing should be a thing? Why can’t we just say hello and be done with it?” she grabbed my hand.
Her eyes widened when she spotted the ring, not that it was very hard to spot, of course. “Oh, honey, congratulations!” Was she congratulating me for my engagement or for getting a great ring? “It’s gorgeous!”
Guess I’d been right to wonder. Should I thank her? I had nothing to do with picking it out, other than landing a guy with great taste who knew me incredibly well.
Perfect. “Thank you so much.” For recognizing my incredible taste in the man I planned to marry.
I couldn’t blame her. My ring was a gorgeous piece of jewelry and an even more gorgeous symbol of how amazing our future would be.
Carson stood next to me the whole night, guiding me around and telling me when to stop being afraid and staring at the floor, so I wouldn’t seem rude to the guests at the party.
He was right and wrong. I didn’t want to be rude to anyone, but that’s not why I was acting weird. Most of them had no idea what the most important part of tonight was. Not even Carson.
“Laney!” I glanced up to see John, the owner of the building and the one who’d hired me to design and build the installation. “People can’t stop telling me how beautiful your work is. And I can’t stop thinking how beautiful you are. So congratulations. I’m not sure if anything could make this night more special.”
When John winked at me, Carson pulled me a little closer to him, completely misinterpreting John’s intent. I wasn’t worried—he’d find out soon enough.
Then I looked to the woman on John’s arm. “Geez, Anna. You know everybody, don’t you?”
“There are probably a few people I’ve never met.” Anna’s eyes twinkled. But tonight, the twinkle wasn’t because she was messing with me or trying to ruin my evening. To
night it was because I’d let her in on my secret, too.
I’d only shared my plan with the people who had to know: John, to get his permission; my dad, because he’d spent most of today at the courthouse getting a special one-day officiant’s permit; and my mom because I couldn’t not tell her. Obviously, Hillary and Eric knew, and I’d called Hayden this afternoon to ask if he’d bring his side of the family. Right after hanging up with him, I’d called Anna, figuring a private invitation was the only way to get her to come. I almost lost it completely when I heard how excited she was to have been included.
Actually, that was a lot of people. Oh shit. This was real.
“You ready for this, Laney?” she asked quietly.
Ready? Probably not. But I couldn’t wait, and I knew it was the right thing to do. “One hundred and fifty percent.”
Carson tensed when his stepsister leaned in closer to me, assuming she was going to pull a ninja move in five-inch heels, I guess. He grunted a warning when she wrapped her arms around me to give me a quick hug. Right before she pulled away from me, Anna quietly and politely told him to shut the hell up.
Family.
“Okay then. Let’s do this.” John and Anna walked up to a small podium next to the infinity fountain where the planning committee was already standing, smiling at me knowingly. Dang it, had John told everyone? Anna? My stupidly proud and happy parents?
How many people did it take to keep a secret? Oh well, in a few minutes, it wouldn’t matter.
“Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention please?” John said into a microphone. Once the crowd had quieted, he continued. “Because of the tireless work of many, many individuals, I stand before you tonight to celebrate the unveiling of our new lobby. It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” He waited for the applause to die down. “This lobby is an homage to our beautiful city and its amazingly talented and complex community. We’re here to celebrate art and, in a recent addition to tonight’s festivities, we’re also here to celebrate love.”
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