by Lynn Turner
Finn chuckled. “You tell me first.”
“Well,” she said, looking him over. “For starters, you’re handsome.”
He led them around their little circle. “Oh?”
“Pretty devastatingly so. You look so sexy in a tux. I’ve been trying not to bite you all evening.”
Heat rushed to his ears. “Emmi,” he groaned, gripping her waist tighter. “You’re killing me.”
She moved the hand at his shoulder and caressed his neck with the back of her fingers. “Right there.”
Before he could respond with the dare on his tongue, Jamie discreetly caught Finn’s attention with a meaningful nod, and Finn pulled Emanuela flush against him, forgetting himself for a moment. “Hold that thought. Jamie wanted to show me something. Will you be okay for a few minutes?”
She nodded, taking a nip at his jaw and moving from his embrace. “I’ll find Allie. You go ahead.”
****
Finn and Jamie left the great hall, and Emanuela turned on her heel, intending to look for Allie and nearly colliding with Philip. “Oh!”
She was perpetually startled by him, it seemed, and there was no sign of his date anywhere.
“Do you have room on your dance card for an old friend?” he asked.
The magnetic confidence Emanuela knew and loved had been restored, and she felt a smile tug at her lips. “I think I might have one left.”
The song playing was slow, meant for an intimate embrace and softly spoken words, so it was awkward at first. They made the best of it though, opting for a conservative hold with space between them.
“You look beautiful, Em. You really did a remarkable job here. You didn’t have much notice, I’m afraid.”
“I didn’t, but I’m not sure I believe in coincidences anymore.” She smiled up at him, matching his steps easily. “Maybe everything doesn’t happen for a reason, but I think this is a fitting conclusion for this chapter of our lives.”
Philip nodded. “I know what you mean. It’s bittersweet, isn’t it?”
There was sadness behind his smile. He stopped their movement and released her with obvious reluctance, pulling an envelope from his tuxedo jacket. “For you—and him.”
“What’s this?”
“When I spoke with Finn a while back, I actually asked if he’d mind my speaking to you. Can you believe that?”
“No,” she said, grinning.
“Well, it’s true. He promised to break my legs if I tried anything.”
Her face heated. “I do believe that.”
He smiled and handed her the envelope. “I think you’ve earned this.” He paused a moment so she could tuck it into her purse. “I saw you two together. He’s a good guy, Em—not that it’s any of my business,” he said, quickly. “As a friend, I hope you’ll be happy. That’s the measure of true love, isn’t it? To want what’s best for someone?”
Her head jerked to the side. It seemed he’d done a bit of soul searching and the effects were obvious.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, bending to kiss her cheek. “Goodnight, Emanuela.”
After making a turn about the room, stopping to chat with a few guests along the way, Emanuela paused near the bar at the entrance. Where is everyone? Allie had been there earlier…and there was no sign of Finn, Simon or Jamie.
“Looking for someone?”
Emanuela grinned, turning around. It wasn’t often her best friend was so chipper. “Oh, you’re drunk again.”
“Drunk is so pedestrian,” Allie said. “I’m just a little tipsy, okay? Come on, we’re late. Jamie is gonna kill me.”
Emanuela frowned, but allowed Allie to tug her along. Some late commuters openly stared, and a few yelled catcalls at them as they crossed the expanse of pink marble to the elevators.
“Allie and Emanuela, I presume?” asked an older, scholarly man wearing horn-rimmed glasses.
“Yes,” Allie said. “You must be Jamie’s friend, Dan.”
“I must be,” he said with a warm smile. “Shall we?”
Emanuela looked at Allie with increasing curiosity.
“Come on,” Allie said, still holding Emanuela’s arm.
Dan allowed them to precede him onto the antiquated elevator and pushed a button for an unmarked floor. He entertained his passengers with little-known facts about the terminal, like the fact that the infamous golden clock that sat atop the information booth in the main concourse was worth twenty million dollars, due to its four large opal faces. They arrived at the mysterious level and disembarked to see Simon, Jamie, Finn, and a young man Emanuela didn’t recognize waiting for them in the hall.
“You’re late,” Jamie said, but his happiness at having them all together at that moment betrayed him and he smiled.
Emanuela eyed them all with interest. “Where are we?”
Finn outstretched his hand to her, gently pulling her to stand beside him. “We are getting an extra special private tour.”
“This floor isn’t open to the public,” Dan said. “The control room is housed here, as well as the Tiffany clock tower. My friend Brandon here can take a few of you to the control room, and the rest can come with me to see the tower.”
“I’m afraid of heights,” Allie said quickly, stepping closer to Jamie. “Looks like it’s the control room for me.”
“Sy and I will go with her,” Jamie said helpfully.
“Splendid!” Dan said. “We’ll meet back here at ten o’clock.”
He glanced at his watch and then at Brandon. “I think twenty minutes should do it, don’t you?”
“Twenty minutes is just enough time,” Brandon said, turning to his small group. “Shall we?”
Dan took Finn and Emanuela through a door leading to a series of long, narrow metal ladders. Emanuela looked at the two men, perplexed.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Finn said. “You won’t fall.”
She glanced at his leg, opening her mouth to protest again, but Finn stopped her. “I’m officially a bionic man. I could climb with my eyes closed.”
“Even so,” Dan said, looking at Emanuela’s long gown and heels, “please use extreme caution.”
“Hang on a sec.” Finn crouched at Emanuela’s feet, gathering her dress at the hem and tying it into a secure knot at her knees.
“Careful!” she said. “This dress is couture. Borrowed. I can’t mess it up.”
“I think that’s okay,” he said, standing.
Dan seemed satisfied, and they slowly ascended the ladders. After reaching the top, they came to a tiny, dusty room that reminded Emanuela of an old attic. There were a few old oil cans in the corners, but their eyes were immediately drawn to the large bronze gears and thirteen-foot stained glass face of the storied Tiffany clock.
“Wow,” she breathed. “This is incredible. It’s so much bigger up close.”
Dan smiled, standing back to allow them a good look at the world’s largest Tiffany timepiece.
“It took twelve years to restore,” he said. “Each piece of glass had to be removed, cleaned and repaired individually.”
“Amazing,” Finn said in awe.
“If I may?” Dan asked.
“Of course,” Finn said, stepping aside to allow their tour guide access to the gold and blue glass of the clock’s face.
Dan moved to the six o’clock position and, to Emanuela’s surprise, a portion of the stained glass window opened. “There’s an impressive view of 42nd Street ahead, and a pretty clear view of Park Avenue South if you poke your head out to the right,” he said with a smile.
He stepped aside, allowing Emanuela to look out of the window first. “Wow,” she said again, looking out at the expanse of midnight blue.
The skyscrapers on either side looked so close. They were huge, the lights from their windows casting a blue glow over the yellow cabs that seemed to crawl along the street below. She looked out farther, seeing the gilded pyramidal roof of the New York Life building, brilliantly golden where it peeked out from behind the tower
ing buildings to her right.
“Finn, you have to see this,” she said, admiration deepening her tone. “Finn?”
She turned around when he didn’t reply, a slight frown on her face when she saw that Dan was no longer in the room with them. “Where did Dan go?”
“He’s waiting for us at the landing,” he said. “We have a few minutes to ourselves.” He moved to stand in front of her, taking her into his arms and turning his face into her hair. “I’ve wanted to do this all night. You’re so beautiful, Emmi. I love your hair like this.”
“Don’t get too attached,” she said. “I had some extensions put in for the occasion.”
He pulled back a moment to look into her face. “I like you every way, Emmi, but you almost look too good to touch.”
She frowned, not liking the sound of that, and put his arms around her waist again. She trailed her hands up his arms, reveling in the feel of his muscles beneath the smooth fabric of his tuxedo jacket. “I always want you to touch me,” she said, and she touched her lips to his.
The magnitude of the evening was dizzying for them both, their many glasses of champagne, the view and each other’s nearness blending to form a heady cocktail of their own, until Emanuela had to pull away and catch her breath.
“We should probably take advantage of this view,” Finn said. “We may never get to see it again.”
She nodded, but couldn’t turn away from the adoration in his eyes. He smiled, seeming to understand her plight. He turned her around and lifted her gently at the waist, helping her to sit in the window and dangle her legs over the edge. His arms circled her waist and he stood behind her, silently taking in the view. Their contented sighs were amplified in the tiny space, their breaths swirling out in front of them.
“I’ll never forget this, Finn,” she said softly after a few minutes, enjoying Finn’s nuzzle at her neck. “It’s really special.”
He stepped away and carefully helped her pull her legs back through the window, turning her around to face him where she sat. “Neither will I,” he said, his voice gruff. He lifted her hand to his lips for a kiss, then brought it to rest at his heart above his jacket. “Crazy about you.”
His body stiffened the moment she felt the tiny bulge in his pocket. It looked like he was mustering every ounce of self-control he possessed to not let the twitching corners of his mouth spread into a full grin.
“Finn?”
The grin won out. “Happy to see you.”
She reached into the small pocket, her eyes never leaving his, and pulled out a black velvet box. Her heart seemed to pound directly in her ears, blocking out the sounds of the city behind her. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes appeared, and the grin he’d kept in check finally stretched fully across his face. Then he was on both knees in the dusty room before her, his empty right hand on her knee.
“Emmi,” he whispered. The velvet box seemed so loud as it clicked open. “Emanuela,” he spoke again, this time with sound that echoed in the small space and wracked her body with a shiver.
She couldn’t even look into the box, so transfixed was she on his expression and tone.
“Although we’ve only known each other these short seven months, it seems like it’s been much longer. Not because it’s been hard to know you, but because it’s been agony not being able to hold you at night and kiss you in the morning. I am not spending any more time away from you—not if I can help it. I love you, Emmi—more than I thought I had the capacity to love.” He straightened a bit just then, like he was steeling himself. “Will you marry me?”
She was already nodding, his handsome face blurred by her tears.
“You have to say it, baby,” he said with an elated grin.
“Yes,” she whimpered when she was able.
He took her hand in his and slid the ring onto her finger. She looked down at it for the first time and gasped. It was simple and elegant, a single-carat, brilliant cut solitaire on a white gold band so thin the diamond seemed suspended above her finger. “It’s perfect.” She stood, tearing up again.
He stood and hoisted her up, his powerful arms holding her under her hips, and nuzzled his face into her tummy. He spun her around and she yelped, holding onto him for dear life.
“Finn!”
When he stopped, she pulled away, locking her fingers behind his head.
“You make me ridiculously…stupidly… incomparably happy,” he said, pecking her neck between each word.
“Ditto,” she said against his lips.
A throat cleared then, and Dan smiled awkwardly at the pair in the tiny room. “I think congratulations are in order?”
Finn lowered Emanuela to her feet and took her hand. “They are,” he said.
Dan nodded. “You couldn’t have chosen a better place to pop the question. Shall we rejoin your friends downstairs?”
At Emanuela’s nod, they made their way back down the ladders.
****
Jamie was beside himself. “You’re marrying us!” He snatched her up into a bear hug until she squealed for him to let her go.
“Jamie! My dress!”
Jamie kneeled to untie the knot at her knees and tsked at her in disapproval. “The dress is already a wrinkled mess, gorgeous. And there’s enough dust on Finn’s pants to write my name in it.”
“Move!” Allie grabbed Emanuela into a fierce hug of her own. “Let me see it!” She reached for Emanuela’s hand, turning to Finn. “Nice job, Good Doctor. How’d you know not to go too flashy?”
Finn smirked. “I had a little help.”
Emanuela looked at him, suspicious, and then she knew. “My mother? When did you…”
“I’m not telling.”
****
The remaining guests prepared to leave Vanderbilt Hall, the orchestra playing its final song. The harpist plucked its strings, the pianist’s fingers danced across the keys, and Mama Cass’s “Dream A Little Dream of Me” beckoned Finn and Emanuela to the floor. They stalked each other in a circle, the intro floating into the air, and their friends looked on. Then they were in each other’s arms, swaying side to side like seasoned partners. Her ring gleamed as bright as the lights strung about them, her head resting on his shoulder. There were other dancers on the floor, but for five people in particular, especially Emanuela and Finn, there was only the two of them.
Epilogue
Six Weeks, Three Days, Seventeen Hours and Ten Minutes Later
“Ten ’Til Sunset,” read the invitations that were sent to the handful of family and friends gathered on the large deck of Finn and Emanuela’s beach house in Penn Cove. They sat comfortably on plush, richly colored cushions tossed on the outdoor chairs and couch, watching Finn and Emanuela photographed on the beach. They sipped Prosecco and Manhattan cocktails, the fire pit and a few tall space heaters keeping them warm. The golden hour ended minutes before, and as the softer, redder hue of day’s end signaled the coming twilight, Finn and Emanuela saw each other for the first time that evening…
So much transpired in that suspended moment. In the time it took her to walk the forgettable distance across the deck to his side, two sets of eyes remembered stolen glances, first kisses and fingers intertwined. They dashed, barefoot, under the arbor with its sheer white curtains billowing as they passed, and down the steps to the beach. The photographer’s camera clicked away, blending with the sound of the waves behind them, and the ambient melody stretching out to them from the deck. They ran toward the water, turning to look back a few times so their happiness could be captured against a backdrop of blended blush and purple, mango and gold.
String lights hung overhead, coming alive the moment the sun dimmed and the shimmering mantle over the water turned midnight gray to blend with the sky. Garland of winter green and baby’s breath wrapped around the deck’s rails, pulling apart the gossamer curtains that hung from the wooden arbor. It was there, under the arbor, that Finn and Emanuela branded each other with eighteen carat gold.
****
<
br /> Something played at Emanuela’s subconscious mind, waking her in the middle of the night. She was afraid it was all a dream. Slowly, she became aware of Finn’s presence. He pressed close to her back, heat radiating from his chest, his long limbs tangled in hers. His warm breath tickled her neck, and she nestled closer to him with a contented sigh. She closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to overtake her again, when she felt his fingers stroke her waist tenderly. She twisted around to face him, her body curling instinctively to his. He lifted her thigh and pulled it across his hip, his soft lips brushing her shoulder.
“Couldn’t sleep,” she whispered. “Had to make sure it was real.”
“Me too. Hey, Wife.”
She couldn’t see his smile, but she knew it was there. “Hey, Husband.”
Their kisses were unhurried, soft, probing in the darkness. He curled an arm beneath her, his other hand trailing gently down her spine to press her hips to his. They were wrapped up in each other, becoming one again and nothing else mattered but the two of them for several long, blissful moments.
****
The pilot’s voice blared over the intercom, announcing their arrival at Phuket International Airport. Emanuela groaned. Finn’s amused gaze skimmed her face, noting her sleepy eyes and the strands of hair that escaped her bun and stuck out in every direction.
“Morning, sunshine,” he said.
“Ugh. Our first time ever traveling together and we get a thirty-hour itinerary. Good thing we didn’t do this when we first started dating.”
“Twenty-six hours.” He twisted to pointedly remove an empty miniature wine bottle from between their seats. “Good thing I like you.”
She pulled her neck pillow off and swatted him with it. Ignoring protocol, he turned on the camera and focused on her beautiful, travel-weary face.
“No, Finn—”
“Come on, Emmi. You know the drill.”
She groaned, self-consciously tucking a few curls behind her ears. “Fine.”
“Who are you with, baby?”
She shook her head with softened eyes. “My love.”
“Mmmhmm, and where are we going?”
“Paradise.”
A young Thai stewardess in her pristine royal purple uniform and pink scarf scolded Finn with a smile, and he powered off the camera to prepare for landing.