by Jennifer Joy
She dropped her forehead to rest against her hand and shook it from side to side. “I can't believe you didn't tell me,” she whispered. “Does Charlie know?”
"No. You’re the first person I’ve told." Not even his publisher knew. Not that it mattered. Most likely, his literary fiction would receive a healthy boost in sales once it became known that P. Dasher and Will Donovan were one and the same.
"Why didn't you stop me?!" she exclaimed, blinked wildly to hold her tears back.
He reached for hand, holding his handkerchief out for her, his touch there for her should she want it.
"Oh, what have I done?!" she croaked, grabbing his handkerchief and hiding her face behind it.
“Please, Liz. Don’t take the blame for this when it’s all my doing.”
“But my blog…,” her words choked off.
“It's not a big deal.” He stretched his hand toward her in case she hadn’t seen it. How badly he wanted to touch her.
She dropped her hands, the handkerchief wadded in her lap. "No big deal? I've outed you! How is that not a big deal? Me and my blabbermouth," her voice choked and tears dripped down her cheeks.
He couldn’t stand it anymore. Pulling his chair closer, he caressed her cheek with his fingers, tracing them along her skin to dry her tears.
He'd made her cry. All he wanted to do was propose. Why was it so blasted hard to propose? Instead, he had made her cry.
"Liz, I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner, but I didn’t want you to see me differently and I never thought the books would do well. It was wrong of me, but it didn’t seem important at the time."
"Because you didn't trust me to keep a secret," she said, a fresh flood flowing down her cheeks and dripping off his fingers.
"That's not it at all, Liz. It was incredibly freeing to write without the judgment attached to my name. Nobody could criticize me personally because they didn’t know who I was. Being my own publisher gave me complete creative control. It gave me the boldness I needed to try something new. Something to hone my craft in a way I never could have done writing as Will Donovan. I wrote the Dasher books with no expectations. In fact, I fully expected them to flop since I only wrote them to indulge myself." He’d never felt more selfish than he did at that moment.
"Nothing you write could ever flop," she said in a chastising tone.
Her faith in him brightened her face and made him wish more than anything that she understood how vital to him she was. Everything he did was with Liz in mind. His main character, the person readers across the nation had fallen in love with, was her. When he’d met Liz, he’d known immediately that she was the representation of the ideal woman he’d created. Quick to act and lovable because, although she made mistakes, they were always done with heart. She felt things deeply, which made her vulnerable but also made her motivations strong and her loyalties fierce. She was the friend everyone wished they had. She was the woman a man dreamed of having in his life.
Will held her hand, and she didn’t pull away.
“Will, I wrote that awful review. I was so determined not to like the books … your books.”
That bothered him more than he would own, but he had brought it on himself. “Why? Did you really hate them so much?”
She grimaced. His stomach felt sick, but he deserved it. A bad review was a small price to pay if she forgave him. “Please, Liz, no more secrets. I promise never again to keep anything from you, no matter how small or insignificant.”
She took a deep breath. “When I read them, I heard your voice in my head. You were telling me the story, and it unsettled me so much, I determined not to like them on principle … even though I identified with the main character straight away with her wit, sass, and kick-butt attitude.”
“Sounds like someone I love.”
She blushed, then her face clouded in panic. Reaching into her clutch purse, she pulled out her cell phone, a look of concentrated determination in the set of her chin as she punched at the screen. "We need to talk to Charlie right away. Do you think he's still nearby? He could join us and, together we’ll plan how to control the damage I've done. I'm sure he'll think of a way to turn this into a major promotional opportunity."
Will snatched her phone away before she called. "Not right now."
She reached over him, trying to get her phone back. Will felt like he was in grade school again playing keep-away. Except she smelled so good, he didn’t want the game to end.
"Will, give it to me. I refuse to be the one to ruin things for you when you've worked so hard. If this hits the news..."
He held the phone out of her reach. "The last thing I want is to talk business tonight."
"But isn't that what you invited me here for? To celebrate the movie nomination?"
For being such a smart woman, there were moments Liz could be unbelievably blind. They were in the Starlight Terrace, for crying out loud!
“No, Liz. I missed you, and I couldn’t bear to let another day pass without your company. I feel as if it’ll take an eternity to catch up on the days we’ve lost.” He held his breath, bracing himself for a rejection.
She squeezed his hand. “Then don’t let it happen again. I missed you too, Will.”
He exhaled in a rush of relief. “Can you forgive me?”
She graced him with her smile, her arched eyebrow teasing him. “That depends. Can you forgive me?”
He smoothed her eyebrow. “Always.”
There had never been a better moment to propose than now, and he was going to take it.
Chapter Nine
Will dropped to his knee beside her.
Liz gasped. Covering her mouth, her eyes wide, she said, "I'm the worst girlfriend on the planet!"
"Only because I didn't confide in you." Will slapped his hand over his mouth and shook his head in disgust. "That's not what I meant. You're the best girlfriend. I'm the one who didn’t make my intentions clear enough."
Maybe she was too wrapped up in her own imagined faults — for to Will, she was perfect — she didn't seem to hear him.
"No, I really am! I show up with balloons, encourage strangers to impose on your perfectly planned evening, and...," she gasped again. "That wasn't your cell phone in your pocket. It was the ring. Oh Will, is there any other romantic gesture I failed to crush?" She dropped her head in her hands, groaning.
Had her distress not been wholeheartedly sincere, Will would have been tempted to laugh. It had been an eventful night ... and one he would cherish for the rest of his life.
Lifting her chin and caressing his palm against her cheek, he said, "I wouldn't have you change, Liz. Our imperfections brought us together. They will keep us together, ensuring that our life together is never dull."
She smiled, her chuckle strained.
Will would give her reason to smile every day. He would try to bring her as much joy as she brought him. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the jewelry case.
Liz's laughter dried on her lips as her eyes darted between him and the velvet case.
"Liz, I love you."
Her hand trembled as she raised it over her chest. In a whisper, she said, "I love you too, Will. I love you so much."
All the worry Will carried within him dissipated like morning fog at sunrise, leaving him bursting with love for the woman close to him.
"Will you marry me?" he asked.
Liz launched herself into his arms. "Yes!" She planted kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, all over his face until Will thought his nerves would burst into flames.
In her enthusiastic flurry of kisses, he finally cupped her face between his hands to hold her still. Her warm eyes and full lips were the last image in his mind as he pulled her down and closed his eyes just before their lips touched.
Her fingers wrapped around his collar, teasing the hair at the base of his neck and pulling him closer to her. Her touch was the only thing keeping him from floating away.
He breathed in the almond, coffee, and chocolate scent
he would forever associate with Liz, his heartbeat threatening to jump out of his chest when she nibbled on his bottom lip.
Before he completely forgot himself, he pulled away, content to see Liz as breathless as he was. As much as he wanted to kiss her again, he wanted to see how the rose-cut diamonds he'd spent months searching for looked on her finger. The ring that said that she chose him. She loved him.
Opening the case, he laughed when she squealed and waved her hands in the air.
"It's perfect!"
He couldn't get the jewelry out of the velvet case quickly enough, and her finger fluttered so much, he had to hold her still to slip the rose gold fleur ring over her knuckle (a terribly difficult task considering how his fingers trembled). It fit perfectly.
She held it up to the light, moving her hand from side to side in admiration. Will appreciated how the diamonds’ sparkle paled in comparison to the twinkle in her fine eyes. The rose gold dulled in comparison to the warm glow of her skin.
"Oh, Will, I love it. It's absolutely perfect!"
Behind him, Will heard the pop of a champagne cork and the band started playing their song. They danced with a roomful of eyes watching them, but Will didn’t care. Liz had said, “Yes.” He felt invincible.
The carpet felt like soft clouds under Will’s feet as he escorted his fiancée out of the Starlight Terrace, careful to position her hand on his arm for the world to see her ring.
Maybe the dozens of balloons explained the lightness he felt, but Will couldn't remember another moment nor fathom any other time when he could possibly be any happier.
They watched the elevator mark the floors as it made its way up to them.
"What about Burgess?" Liz asked, craning her neck back to look up at him and nibbling her bottom lip.
The last thing in the world Will wanted to talk about was Burgess. "What about him?"
"I can just see the headline now: Favoritism in Literature: Conflict of Interest or Blatant Manipulation? Either way he puts it, it'll reflect poorly on us."
Will chuckled. "Which will make it all the more satisfying when I announce publicly on your blog tomorrow that P. Dasher and Will Donovan are one and the same." He'd like to be a fly on the wall when Burgess found out. It would make the loss of his secret worth it.
"After what I wrote about Dasher's — your — books, nobody would believe you'd reveal your pen name on my blog unless it were the absolute truth," she said repentantly.
He patted her hand. "Exactly. Your review will add credibility to my revelation. Otherwise, why would I identify myself when you've stated your opinion so clearly?"
She looked up at him. "But are you certain you want to do this?"
He saw the excitement and concern battling in her eyes. She understood what he would have to give up, but he would do it for her. "And deprive you of the best literary scoop of the week?"
"More like of the decade. This will spread like wildfire. You'll lose the anonymity you treasure." Concern won out and her excitement dimmed.
Will would have none of it. Pulling her chin up to make sure she saw how serious he was, he said, "A small price to pay if it wins your trust and sees that your hard work is rewarded as it deserves to be."
The excitement returned, rewarding him with a toothy smile and the sparkle he so loved.
The elevator opened and, with a little help, they managed to squeeze inside.
The balloons pressed around them, filling in every gap of space with happy colors. It was a convenient pretext to hold Liz against him. She snuggled in, taking advantage of their limited space to run her hands up and over his shoulders in a gesture that sent delicious shivers through Will.
When her hand trailed around his collar and she twirled her fingers into his hair and tugged him down to her, he took a deep breath so he wouldn't need to come up for air anytime soon.
His senses filled with her until everything around them faded, leaving only him holding the woman he loved. Nothing else mattered … until the elevator chimed that they'd reached the bottom floor.
Will was tempted to close the doors to allow for a few more minutes in her arms. But the men milling about in the lobby, wiping their sweaty hands against their slacks before adjusting their ties and patting their pockets to make sure the ring was still there stirred his sense of camaraderie.
Untangling himself and Liz from the balloon strings, they poured out of the elevator. Will nodded his encouragement to the next batch of hopeful grooms-to-be as he tucked Liz's hand in his arm and they walked together across the busy lobby of the Olympus Hotel and away from the Starlight Terrace.
Chapter Ten
2 months later
Sundance Mountain Resort, Utah
Will was ready to go home. He'd watched enough angst-inspiring, heart-wrenching, thought-provoking movies to last him a lifetime. He wanted to write. He had thought his adventure series had come to an end, but after swinging by Liz’s family’s restaurant to share the news of their engagement, he’d been hit with a plot twist that kept him up at his computer until dawn the next morning. The adventures had not come to an end. Not at all. In fact, they had only just begun.
Liz was in her element. She made friends easily and her podcast schedule soon filled with a line-up to give envy to any interviewer. Will loved to watch her interact with people most would be intimidated by. She knew no strangers, and soon, most of the guests at the Sundance Festival called for her by name. She was a star, and Will was more than happy for the spotlight to be redirected from him to her.
He'd rubbed elbows with people he'd only seen on the front pages of celebrity magazines, and he'd made friends at the back of the theaters with other writers who sought the quieter corners where they could more easily observe the crowd rather than form a part of it.
Today was the final award ceremony, and then they would go home where Charlie will have filled their living room with balloons. That was the plan. Will could hardly wait to see Liz’s face when she opened their front door.
He lay still in the King-size bed, not wanting to disturb Liz's sleep. Her head was cradled in the perfect spot between his shoulder and chin, one of her legs thrown over his just in case he attempted to move away from her.
She stretched, her smooth skin gliding over his, and threw an arm over his bare chest with a groan. Liz was not a morning person, and the late nights of the past couple weeks only added to her misery. He stretched his arm as far as it would go without moving her too much and fumbled with the phone with numb, tingly fingers. After flexing his hand a few times, careful to keep his shoulder still, he finally succeeded in stabbing the right numbers for the lobby. He ordered coffee to be sent up to the room.
"Will?" Liz whispered. "What time is it?"
"Late."
"How late?" She made no motion to move, which was completely fine with Will. His arm would fall back asleep and the curls in her hair tickled his nose, but she smelled so good and she molded so well against him, he wasn't ready to part with her yet.
"We won't miss the ceremony."
She snuggled into him and kissed his neck.
"It'll take me an hour just to get into my Spanx," she partly sighed and partly laughed.
"You don't need it." Liz's soft curves stood out against the sea of runway-thin actresses. Will couldn't understand why she would wish to flatten what God had gifted her with.
"Not in real life, Will, but the camera adds at least ten pounds. If my picture ends up in a magazine, I want to look just as good as everyone else."
She scooted over and dangled her legs over the side of the bed, leaving Will no option but to loop his arm around her waist and pull her back to him.
"You're the most beautiful woman in the whole festival."
She smiled at him, and Will knew in the depths of his heart that she would always be the most beautiful woman he would ever meet.
"These things take time, and if your film wins, I don’t want my picture taken with bad hair and lipstick on my teeth." She
walked across the room, pausing to toss a flirty look over her shoulder just before she went inside the bathroom. Maybe she needed help to scrub her back... Will jumped out of bed, charging into the bathroom, ready to assist her.
Several coffees and a few hours later, they emerged from their room dressed to the nines. Liz looked resplendent in a floor-length red gown the same deep shade of her lipstick. The only jewelry she wore were the earrings Will had given her and her wedding ring. She didn't need anything else to adorn her beauty.
“You look wonderful tonight,” he said, holding her hand up so she could twirl before they walked down the hall to the elevator.
When she had taken two spins, she said, “And I love this suit. It brings back the best of memories.”
Will wore the suit he had last donned at the Starlight Terrace. He wasn't a superstitious man, but he felt as good as he had the last time he'd put it on.
Closing the door to their room, making sure the flowing fabric of Liz's dress cleared the opening, Will held his arm out for her with pride.
They would take the elevator down to the limo which would convey them to the theater where the main event was to be held.
Liz pushed the button, and they waited.
"Will, wouldn't it be amazing if your story won?" she asked, her upturned face beaming with happiness and hope.
He couldn't imagine feeling fuller of emotion than he did at that moment. Being married to Liz was everything he imagined it would be ... and more.
"I've already won, Mrs. Donovan."
The sleek elevator doors opened, and arm-in-arm, they entered. Will knew he ought to be nervous, but Liz infused him with courage. He’d face anything with her at his side. Even crowds and the blinding lights of flashing cameras. She made him feel invincible.
“But wouldn’t it be perfect?” she asked.