Falling for Sir

by Cat Kelly

  Yes, indeed. But it would have been a great morning too, if things had gone to plan. Now that was sabotaged. He could hardly ask her that question in the midst of all this. Could he? Oh god, he was so rusty when it came to women and relationships, but in fact he'd never been very smooth and his wife often teased him about it.

  Would it be acceptable to propose marriage to her now, this morning? Somehow it seemed...inappropriate. What would she say? The romantic moment was certainly in ruins. He could almost hear her remarking scornfully, "You've put one woman in the hospital and you're sitting here asking me to marry you?"

  He stared at her, plucking up the courage. In the pocket of his jacket, which now lay across the chair by the window, there was a small box with a pink diamond ring inside. He'd purchased it in Dubai. For her. He'd meant to give it to her over breakfast this morning. But he didn't want to do that in a rush, with this hanging over them. He'd wanted to be feeding her with pancakes and maple syrup. It was all planned to be perfect.

  Suddenly she leapt out of bed. "Come on, let's get dressed. You need to get back to New York."

  In that moment his love for her reached the point of no return and he knew there was no hurry. He'd put that ring on her finger at the right moment, when the only thing she had to think about was the two of them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Dangerous Art of Mixing

  Marianne sprinkled fish food for Pebbles and Bam Bam. They looked pleased to see her home, she thought with a smile. Shrugging out of her coat, she walked into the kitchenette and started her coffee maker. Staring at her phone, she resisted the urge to call him. He had to see Alana and get that sorted out somehow. She'd leave him to it and be patient.

  Still floating after the night they'd shared, she got ready for work. If this wasn't the last working day before the Centennial party, she might have called in a sick day, but there was a few last-minute things to cover with Mrs. B. She was half a day late going in, but hey, she mused with a wicked smile, she was sleeping with the boss and he wasn't going to fire her. He better not. Nah, he wanted to keep her happy and he was very good at it.

  When she finally got to work there was a message from her brother Mike, cheekily asking her what time she got home last night. Marianne chose not to respond to that inquiry.

  Christie was taking the day off to do her Christmas shopping, so she ate lunch with David in his office, laughing at his colorful description of Thanksgiving with his painfully conservative parents. It was good to know most people had families that didn't act like the Brady Bunch.

  That afternoon, she went with Mrs. Bracknell to the location for the Centennial party and they made the final few arrangements.

  "How was your Thanksgiving, Mrs. B?"

  The secretary gave her a wink. "Not nearly as good as yours I daresay."

  But there was no call from Jack.

  She thought of calling the hospital to find out of Alana was ok, but would that be too weird?Besides she wasn't a relative and they weren't likely to give out any information over the phone. Somehow her family had managed to keep it out of the news. She scoured the internet but there was nothing new.

  Eventually, patience cast to the four winds, she did try Jack's phone, but it went straight to voice mail and she hung up, losing her nerve. He wouldn't want her pestering him at a time like this. That evening she curled up in a chair by the TV with her double-stuff Oreos and ironically caught an episode of Alana's reality show. In the space of that hour-long show she learned, as the rest of the world must have, that Alana Shepherd was desperately in love with a man who mostly avoided her. It was painful, heart wrenching. Clearly Jack had never watched the program or he would have had some idea that she was crying out for help in any way she could, crying out for his attention.

  * * * *

  He couldn't get in to see her at first. When he finally did she was sitting up in bed, propped up, not only with her eyes open, but her mouth too, flirting and laughing with one of the doctors. Remarkably—or perhaps not, considering this was Alana—she must have called in her make-up artist first thing that morning. Her face was a little pale under the powder, but her eyes were carefully lined, her lashes fanned and darkened, her lips glossy and red.

  "Darling!" she exclaimed when she saw Jack hovering, "What are you doing here?"

  He walked in to her private room. The doctor muttered something to Alana, patted her hand and walked out with a nod to Jack.

  "Your father called me," he said. "How are you?"

  She waved her fingers through the air. "I'm fine! Good lord, Daddy's such a worrier. You know how he is."

  Surprised, he didn't know what to say.

  "I didn't do it on purpose," she explained, her tone weary. "But Daddy won't believe me. I feel so stupid, Jack. It was my blood pressure medication. Apparently it doesn't mix well with grapefruit juice and I've been on this diet for a week...well, it took its toll and sent me to the bathroom floor yesterday while I was at their house. They assumed I'd done something drastic."

  "Are you—?"

  "I'm going to be ok. Just no grapefruit juice with my meds. Honestly, I didn't know." She was laughing about it now. "I'm sorry to cause everyone the worry. It's embarrassing really."

  He wasn't sure whether to believe her, but since there were no cameras following her around perhaps this was the truth. Maybe she was really did feel like a fool, even if that would suggest humility which was something he didn't think she possessed.

  "You look good, Jack," she said. "How was Dubai?"

  "Ok."

  "Oh, that reminds me. While you were away there was a god-awful photo of us printed in the New York Post. You know, that photo from the gallery opening about two years ago. The one where I look fat."

  He smiled. "Alana, you've never been fat." Jack had always thought she could benefit from a few extra pounds, but there was no telling her that.

  "No, but I looked it in that picture. Anyway, they'd also got hold of a photo of a woman's hand with an enormous engagement ring on it and they blew it up and put it on our picture—as if it was a close up of my hand. Everyone stopped me that day to congratulate me and I had no idea what they were talking about until I saw the piece in that gossip column. Even Daddy saw it and called me. He's still convinced we must have been engaged. I said to him, Daddy, if I look that fat now shoot me. He didn't believe it was an old photo. Poor Daddy."

  Jack pulled up a chair and sat. "Great. So now that's the news all over town."

  "That is the latest, darling. But I had nothing to do with it this time and I wanted you to know it."

  He looked at her skeptically.

  She laughed. "Honestly, Jack. If I wanted to plant a story with Cindy Adams I'd certainly pick a more flattering photo of me than that one. Oh, and the woman's hand that they used in the ring picture—the close up— is clearly not mine. I would certainly never wear stripper nails like those."

  The door opened and a nurse came in with her lunch.

  Alana was shockingly perky at the prospect of hospital food. "They have chocolate pudding," she explained to Jack. "I'd never have that at home would I? But here I have an excuse." She pouted and then broke into peals of soft laughter. "Ah, bliss, To not have to worry about a diet for a few hours. You have no idea." She greedily snatched the metal covers off her food tray and eyed the carefully measured portions of institutional food. "Yummy!"

  Jack was relieved. "You are alright then, Alana."

  "Of course."

  "I'm sorry my phone was turned off yesterday. Your father said you tried to call me."

  She screwed up her face as if trying to remember. Finally, ripping the lid of her pudding cup, she exclaimed, "So I did! I forgot! I wanted to ask you a favor. Can I come to your wedding?"

  He almost fell out of the chair.

  "And bring the cameras," she added, licking the lid of her pudding. "Just briefly. I mean, darling, I am the forsaken one that everyone's heart bleeds for. I have to milk this for all its worth,
don't I?"

  She was, he realized, perfectly serious, perfectly earnest.

  "Darling, I know now that the two of us would never have worked. I need the limelight, you don't. I crave it. You run away from it. No. Our marriage would have been disastrous. And the fans like to sympathize with the underdog, so I've found. I don't think they'd like me if everything went well."

  Jack scratched his ear, trying to come to terms with this version of Alana. Maybe her scare yesterday had brought her to a new level of consciousness. "What makes you think I'm getting married?"

  Her head tilted. "You're in love with her, aren't you? Your brother told me he's never seen you like this. Not even with Laura."

  It was true. Laura was different, but he was different back then too—younger, still growing into his skin, foolish maybe. Not that he felt much smarter now.

  "He also told me that you took him with you to look at engagement rings. I'd venture a guess that's how the rumor got started about you and a certain ring. For some asinine reason they decided you bought it for me." She sighed. "So if you haven't asked her yet, you're crazy." Picking up her spoon, Alana dove into her chocolate pudding with relish and Jack got the sense that he was already forgotten.

  The next time that handsome young doctor came around, she'd be flirting again and no doubt asking him if he ever watched her show.

  When he left the hospital he turned on his phone and saw three messages from his brother. Damn it. A crisis with the new build in Dubai.

  He spent the rest of the day and night on his phone and computer, dealing with that. When he had a moment to phone Marianne she didn't pick up, but at nine that evening he had a text.

  "I love u."

  It was all he needed to know she was thinking of him. She understood everything. She always would.

  * * * *

  The Centennial party was a success. It was crowded and noisy and everything she'd usually avoid with every bone in her body, but Marianne, in her slinky black Tadashi dress and red Gucci heels was ready to party. Tonight Claudia and Marianne found there was space for them both inside that woman's frame. They stopped fighting. They grew up and made peace.

  She knew when he arrived, even before she saw him. The air changed. Tiny hairs stood to attention on her arms and the back of her neck.

  Something told her that she was about to remember this moment all her life, but whether it would be good or bad she didn't know yet.

  She knew she looked elegant tonight, possibly for the first time ever. Adele's "One and Only" was playing, slowing down the tempo for a brief breathing space, and she'd just taken a sip of her Centennial cocktail, complete with 'M' shaped straw.

  And suddenly he was behind her. "Ms. Miller."

  Marianne spun around. "Mr. Marchetti."

  She hadn't laid eyes on him since yesterday morning when he dropped her at her apartment. They'd been missing each other's calls ever since. But she knew he would have gotten her text.

  "You've made us a wonderful party, Ms. Miller. Well done."

  "Thank you. I had a lot of help."

  He nodded and reached into his jacket. "I have another project for you, if you think you could take on another for me?"

  Marianne set her drink down on the bar, wondering what he could devise for her next.

  He held out a small square box. The lid flipped open.

  "Will you marry me?" he asked. "Because I love you and I don't want to waste any more of my life without you. Even if you are too young for me and a brat. And you'll never let me win a single game of chess."

  She stared at the massive diamond and then looked up into his dark blue velvet gaze.

  And then Marianne Miller smiled, because she knew that what happened next would not only be something she remembered for the rest of her life, but it would be good. It would be very, very good.

  The End

  Other Books by Cat Kelly:

  www.evernightpublishing.com/cat-kelly

  If you enjoyed this book, you may also like:

  Prometheus Unstitched by Lila Shaw

  The Romance Novel Book Club by Kastil Eavenshade

  Little Dove by Erin M. Leaf

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com