Four Weeks Till Forever

by Nadia Lee

  A clear male voice rose in a familiar melody from “Love Me Tender.” More voices joined.

  “Oh my god! Hilary, come on. Get up and come here.” Urgency filled Jo’s voice, and she waved her hand fast. “Now!”

  That got Hilary to her feet. She went to stand next to Jo and watched six men by the pool sing a cappella. They started to move toward Hilary’s unit. As the song reached its climax, they all held up their right index fingers, then made heart signs with their hands. Then each singer pulled out a card with a different letter on it. When they held them up in a row it spelled H-I-L-A-R-Y.

  Was this what Mark had meant when he’d said he’d convince her of his love?

  When it was finished, the spectators clapped. Her heart beat with something like scared little hope, and Hilary blinked away moisture gathering in her eyes before it could fall.

  “Wow, that was great,” Jo said.

  “Yeah.”

  “So… Who’s the mystery admirer?”

  Hilary swallowed. “There’s no mystery. It’s Mark.”

  “Mark Pryce?” Jo’s eyes grew large. “I thought you guys were finished.”

  “We are.”

  “I don’t know.” Jo said, folding her arms and sing-songing the last word. “It doesn’t look finished.”

  “It’s just a stunt. It doesn’t mean anything,” Hilary said, while her heart fluttered and chanted liar, liar, liar.

  “You sure? It certainly looks like something.”

  The doorbell rang. Grateful for the interruption, Hilary went to answer it, only to be faced with a smiling delivery guy with a giant basket of pale pink orchids and a big box of Belgian chocolates. “Are you Ms. Hilary Rosenberg?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please sign here.”

  She scrawled her name, feeling Jo’s avid gaze on her back. As soon as the delivery guy left and the door closed, Jo pointed her perfectly manicured index finger at the flowers and chocolates. “See! The troubadours and now this!”

  “Oh come on,” Hilary said. “They’re probably from Gavin. He knows I’m moving today.”

  “Really?” Jo snatched the card from the flower basket and read it. “I had no idea Gavin had a romantic interest in you.”

  “Gimme that!” Hilary took it from her best friend’s hand. The message read: I love you. It wasn’t signed, but she didn’t need that to know who was responsible.

  “He’s crazy about you,” Jo said. “I’m sure he’s never told any of his exes ‘I love you.’ His sister said so.”

  “She must not know him that well. He’s just unhappy about my ending the relationship early.” Liar, liar, liar.

  Hilary’s phone buzzed. She looked at the text.

  Hope you enjoyed the show. I love you.

  She wasn’t going to answer that. She wasn’t.

  How do you like the chocolate?

  Definitely not going to dignify that either. She opened the package and shoved it at Jo. “Here you go.”

  “You don’t want any?”

  “I’m on a diet.”

  Jo snorted a laugh. “You? A diet? When pigs fly.”

  “Shut up.”

  The phone danced on the counter again. Ignoring it, Hilary crossed her arms and watched her friend enjoy a piece of dark chocolate.

  “Ohmigod. It’s eighty-five percent pure,” Jo said, groaning loudly like she was about to orgasm. “You sure you don’t want any?”

  Eighty-five percent. Her favorite. It was no coincidence. Hilary closed her eyes, knowing she had lost.

  She popped a piece into her mouth and moaned. “Oh my god.”

  “Mark knows his food.”

  Hilary nodded. Her phone buzzed again, and Jo put it in Hilary’s hand. “Answer the damned thing. I don’t think it’s going to stop until you do.”

  “Fine.” Hilary opened her eyes and flicked her finger over the screen.

  I love you. Have dinner with me.

  “What does it say?” Jo asked.

  “It’s a stalker.”

  Jo peered at her. “Is ‘stalker’ the new word for ‘smokin’ hot billionaire who’s crazy about you’?”

  “I told you, he’s not crazy about me.” Hilary had to remind herself of that critical fact before she did something stupid, like texting back Okay.

  “He so is. Put him out of his misery. Go out with him. Have fun. Bebe’s gone now, so you can’t think he’s doing this to do that whole half-sister-slash-cousin threesome thing you were worried about. You need some romance in your life, you know. And Walt doesn’t count even if he did turn out to be innocent after all. You had zero chemistry with the guy. I’m not even sure why you thought to marry him.”

  Hilary ticked off the list of qualities she’d told herself trumped everything else. “Stable job. Good pay. Careful in his decisions. Well-educated.”

  Jo yawned. “Bo-ring. Where’s the romance, Hilary? How about things like hottie, good in bed, well-hung, great body, nice ass, gorgeous mouth, amazing stamina, can make you wet with a look…” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “You know…things that make life a little more interesting.”

  “That’s how I ended up with Freddie. I wanted those things. The same with my mom and aunt and Tim. They wanted heat, passion and drama, and all of them ended up like that.” Hilary rolled her wrist. “Mom lost the will to take care of herself once Tim was gone. So to get that amazing emotional high back, she started to self-medicate. When pot and E stopped working, she started on crack…and one day she OD’d. I am not going to be like her. I’m going to be a responsible person. An adult.”

  Jo sighed. “You are. That’s the problem. You’re too responsible. Imagine yourself in a nursing home thirty years from now. Are you going to look back and say, ‘Wow, I had a great life. I was never late for work, and my vibrator worked pretty well.’”

  Hilary tried to keep a serious look on her face, but ended up smiling. “It’s not that simple.”

  “Nothing’s ever simple. I just don’t want you to ignore possibilities out of fear. Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith, believing that somebody’s going to catch you.”

  Hilary made a noncommittal noise. Sure, for somebody like Jo—beautiful, successful, confident—it might be easier. But it wasn’t so simple for Hilary. Mark wasn’t just some fun guy who was good in bed. He had the power to destroy her, and she couldn’t take that leap. What if, one day, he wasn’t there to catch her?

  * * *

  An hour later, Mark was on the phone. “So how did it go?”

  “She liked it,” Jo said. It had taken an hour to extricate herself from Hilary’s place. “Although I think you should’ve serenaded her yourself.”

  “A man’s got to know his limitations. I wanted her to enjoy it, not flee in horror.”

  She chuckled. “You did pretty well. I’m sort of impressed, but she’s not totally into it yet.”

  “Well, I have other plans in the works.”

  “I wasn’t kidding when I told you I’d kill you if you make her unhappy,” Jo said.

  “Don’t worry. I wasn’t kidding when I told you I’m going to make her the happiest woman in the world.”

  * * *

  Apparently her lack of response hadn’t deterred Mark at all. On Monday, every radio station in LA was playing songs dedicated to “the very special love of my life, Hilary Rosenberg” every hour on the hour. Hilary had to turn off the radio.

  When she walked into the office, Sally jumped to her feet and said, “Oh my god, Hilary, it’s so romantic.”

  Should she say it was a different Hilary Rosenberg? No. Sally would never believe it. Her name was too distinctive. Hilary shrugged. “Well. It’s just some radio time. I’m sure they made a mistake.”

  “Not that, the a cappella. Totally cool!”

  Hilary stared at Sally’s enthused face. “How did you know abou—?”

  “It’s on YouTube! At the end of your song, they mentioned the impromptu a cappella from Sunday. So of course I h
ad to check.”

  It seemed like every other person at the office gave her a thumbs up or wink as she walked past their desks. Okay, this was just weird. People didn’t celebrate her choice of men or care this much about her romantic life.

  Then she saw a giant bouquet of red and pink heart-shaped balloons tied to her chair. A basket of flowers had a message written in large block letters: I LOVE YOU. HAVE DINNER WITH ME.

  “You totally should!” Sally said, bouncing left and right. It was like she was the one who’d been asked out.

  Hilary’s phone vibrated. She checked the message. It was from Kim.

  OMG Hilary, have you been listening to the radio? I had no idea you were the love of Mark’s life!

  Pete Monroe, an analyst at the firm and Gavin’s brother-in-law, stopped by her desk. He was holding a big mug that read, “I can short an entire continent and still come out ahead.” “Hey, Hilary. When’s the happy occasion?”

  “What happy occasion?” she almost snapped at him before she caught herself. It wasn’t Pete’s fault she was under siege.

  “The wedding. Isn’t that what Mark’s gunning for?”

  “Wedding?” she repeated, flabbergasted. She couldn’t decide which would be preferable: spontaneously combusting or getting sucked down underground into one of the fiery pits of hell.

  Pete blinked. “Why else would somebody like him go through all this trouble?”

  “There’s no wedding. None. Absolutely none.”

  “Okay.” He shrugged and returned to his office.

  Sally watched him go, then turned to Hilary. “Are you sure? You can tell me.”

  “Sally, seriously. No. There’s nothing. You watch—it’s going to end soon enough.” Mark would grow bored when he kept getting ignored. He wasn’t used to that.

  “Really?” The other woman’s face crumbled a bit. “What a shame. Still…” She sighed. “I’d love to experience something like this at least once. It’s just so…grand.”

  By the time four o’clock rolled around, Hilary absolutely despised the word “grand.” Everyone from her coworkers to friends to strangers had decided to call her “love life” grand. At least Mark hadn’t plastered her face all over the Internet and TV. That allowed her to walk around the city without other people sighing “Grand Romance” at her.

  She could handle this. Later that day, she was flying to New York City with Gavin and his wife on an overnight business trip. Mark wasn’t going to chase her all the way to the other end of the country.

  Gavin took his plane on the trip, instead of the pink jet he’d bought for his wife. Amandine sat next to him while holding their baby boy, and she looked at Hilary. “I always knew one day Mark would find the woman of his dreams, and I’m so happy it’s you.”

  Hilary forced a smile, hoping none of her annoyance came through. “Oh I don’t know. Given his reputation, I’m sure he’s going to stop once he realizes I’m not interested.”

  “You think so? But still… A cappella? All the radio stations in the city playing songs to you? It’s incredibly romantic.”

  Gavin snorted. “Private jets and yachts are just as romantic—and more practical.”

  Amandine laughed. “I’m not saying what you did wasn’t, but this is just so sweet. Like a fairytale.”

  And it was. That was the problem. Mark was supposed to be a shallow and self-centered playboy who got bored easily. And Hilary was supposed to be a hard-nosed career woman whose heart didn’t bend one bit at the sight of the happy couple before her. They seemed so open and loving…Hilary ached for something like that for herself, but knew it would never happen. They hadn’t had the kind of screwed up life she had. They didn’t have the taint of the Rosenberg blood.

  In her hotel room, she dropped her bag and sighed heavily. As usual, her room was beautifully appointed and furnished. Gavin didn’t believe in traveling cheap. Normally she would enjoy the trip. It was nice to leave L.A. once in a while and spend a night or two in a five-star hotel with impeccable service.

  After her evening rituals, she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Midnight, she thought. And I’m alone.

  Mark had been charming over the past few days, but he wasn’t Prince Charming…and she wasn’t Cinderella. And somehow tears started to flow as she realized there was too great a distance separating them.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  There was no a cappella or flowers or chocolates or balloons the next morning. Hilary took a long breath. She was relieved—no, happy—that Mark wasn’t trying any more over-the-top antics. It was taking a little longer than she’d thought, but he seemed to be losing interest.

  So why did her heart feel funny, like there was a hollow spot in the center of it, if this was what she’d wanted?

  Gavin had some meetings in Manhattan, and Amandine decided she wanted to go to The Museum of Modern Art. After breakfast, the three of them left the hotel together.

  “God, it looks even bigger in daylight,” Amandine said.

  “You’ve never been to New York City?” Hilary said, surprised that her cosmopolitan boss’s wife seemed so awed by the city.

  “I never had the chance. It’s amazing how everything’s so flashy and busy all the time. It’s not like L.A. with its Hollywood glamour, but it has its own charm.” Amandine looked up. “I especially like the way they use the sides of the buildings as ad displays everywhere. There’s nothing like that in…” She trailed off.

  “What?” Gavin said.

  “Is that…? Oh my god.”

  Hilary’s head snapped up. Five enormous LED screens, sitting high on adjacent skyscrapers, read: I’ll love you forever, Hilary. Taken together, the signs dwarfed everything else on the skyline.

  “Wow,” Gavin and Amandine said at the same time, then looked at her.

  Hilary felt her cheeks heat. Her heart thumped like crazy. This was a pretty serious declaration. It wasn’t something he could deny later, or pretend was some kind of misunderstanding. How could he change his mind after this?

  She shook herself mentally. People routinely spent money to declare their love and commitment to each other all the time in front of witnesses. But they still ended up in divorce court as often as not. Her boss had been pretty close to that himself. This kind of public display couldn’t possibly measure up…even if people were staring at the display and taking pictures with their phones.

  What if this is real though? Would she be okay with letting Mark go?

  She clutched her purse and briefcase to her chest, her eyes glued to the display.

  I’ll love you forever, Hilary.

  She wanted to believe it so bad, the pain was almost physical.

  * * *

  The next day, Gavin’s jet flew toward a small private airport on the outskirts of L.A. It was only three o’clock on the west coast, thanks to the time difference. Hilary proofread the meeting minutes and a few other documents, while her boss and his wife dozed. They’d been out late the night before, enjoying the city. Hilary saved all the files and shut down her laptop with a sigh. Her heart still beat a bit too fast, and every time she thought of Mark’s big gesture in New York City, her face grew hot. She pressed a glass of iced water to her cheeks.

  I love you. Have dinner with me.

  That was all that Mark had sent in private, while making his—dammit, there was no other word—grand declaration in public. She couldn’t imagine what he might want to say to her over dinner. “I love you” was the most obvious choice, but he’d already said that. None of her exes had been this persistent or over-the-top, so she was in new territory. Gavin was pretty over-the-top too, but he was more into buying outrageous presents than gestures that would get people’s tongues wagging. The New York display incident was already all over the net, and the office had probably started a betting pool on what Mark would do next. That was just how Gavin’s traders would amuse themselves while working ungodly numbers of hours each day.

  They landed and deplaned, Gavin starting down the s
tairs first, Amandine and Hilary following. Suddenly, Amandine stopped dead and gasped.

  “What is it?” Hilary said from behind her. Still inside the aircraft, she couldn’t see much outside since the other woman was blocking her view at the door, but she could hear the drone of plane engines…above them?

  “Hilary… Look.” Amandine stood aside and Hilary stepped out and looked up.

  Planes were flying intricate patterns in the clear Los Angeles sky. Colored smoke plumed out of their ends, and they created a giant pink heart with an arrow through it. Blood roared in Hilary’s head, and she felt like her own heart would explode…like she’d run a hundred miles.

  Then the smoke changed to white, and they wrote: Mark and Hilary 4EVER.

  The message should’ve seemed juvenile. High schoolish, really. Except it made her eyes fill with tears, and she couldn’t stop them from spilling over her cheeks. Nobody had ever thought she was worth this much effort. A Rosenberg girl was somebody a guy slept with, maybe had wild sex with…but not somebody he cooked for, arranged a cappella for, dedicated songs to, rented out Manhattan LED screens for, or hired a team of pilots for a fancy air show for.

  “Oh, Hilary.” Amandine’s expression crumbled when she took one look at Hilary. Did she look that bad?

  Amandine turned to Gavin. “Why don’t you wait for us in the car?” Then she wrapped an arm around Hilary’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy.”

  “I am, but I’m so scared. I feel like this isn’t real. It just can’t be happening to me,” Hilary blurted out, unable to contain it.

  “It’s very real, and you should believe it.” Amandine handed her a handkerchief. “Mark is crazy about you.”

  “But for how long?” Hilary wiped her tears and sniffled.

  “You’ll never find out unless you give him a chance, will you?” Amandine searched Hilary’s face. “It’s normal to be scared, Hilary. You remember when Gavin and I were going through that…rough phase? I was scared too when he wouldn’t let me go. I was so sure I’d fall even more deeply in love with him only to lose him in the end.”