NINE MONTHS LATER

 

“Alana, darling, we need to talk… there’s an offer on the table. Better than the rest. Best you’ll probably get. This is money that could make heads spin!” As much as I love my agent, Cathy, she has a tendency to overreact, especially as of late when the contracts have been rolling in.

 

“Can we do this another day? It’s really not the best ti--”

 

“No, Alana. We need to decide today. The offer from Griffin Studios expires tomorrow, and the newest one from Energy Films wants an answer in 48 hours. Time doesn’t stop because of your big day!”

 

I let out a long, anguished sigh as I hold up a hand to Jana, asking her to wait just a little bit longer on the hot curling iron. I step out of the living room and into my bedroom. Though, from all the stacked boxes and piles of papers and pictures, it’s hard to believe that this will ever become a master bedroom.

 

I push aside a portfolio laid atop of the messy bed and lie back on the sheets. Staring straight up at the newly painted ceiling, I let myself ask, “Okay? What is this one going to give me if I say yes?”

 

“$1.9 million, control of the script, executive producer title, and a 1% cut of ticket and redistribution. That alone could net you another ten million easily if the film does well!”

 

I know that, as my agent, her job is to be totally focused on the money, but I only care about one thing and one thing only -- my story. Ever since the news station helicopters began swarming Steel Saints compound, as Liam and I exited arm and arm via police escort, there hasn’t been a day in which I haven’t been offered some kind of money to get the true story out there.

 

First, Liam agreed to do the talk show rounds. The public relations manager his coach hired for him, basically told him it was a must. Sure, he got to walk free by agreeing to turn in information about his club and the whereabouts of Amy and other Black Flag Mafia members, but it didn’t make him look any less innocent. In fact, Amy’s website hack had made it even worse for him by basically pinning him to crime after crime.

 

So, for two long weeks, we traveled back and forth from New York, LA, Chicago, and Dallas. We sat on every soundstage, every fake living room set, every high news desk they could find, and we repeated the same rehearsed story over and over again -- just as we had practiced on the plane like two actors rehearsing our lines.

 

We were made out to be this massive love story between a goody college girl just fighting to keep her dad alive and a rising boxing star caught up in the criminal world he longed to get out of. But over the course of those two weeks, we became so much more than headlines to one another.

 

Liam became my comforter as he held my hand almost every second we were together. At night, he would rock me to sleep in the wide expanse of his arms so that I could fall asleep to the sound of his heart still beating as I traced the scar from where the bullet just missed hitting an artery. And, for my part, I promised to let him lead the way, trusting him with every call and decision, even if it meant letting go of my pride and fear to let him back into my heart.

 

A month after the interviews were done and the news cameras had all but disappeared (except for the sports paps who still followed Liam around as he worked to regain his spot in the pros), my life went back to normal, as normal as it could be. I opened the new and improved ice cream truck back up thanks to the money from my blog and spent my nights finalizing my thesis presentations for my final semester at grad school.

 

Whenever I had a free moment away from it all, Jana and I would revive the blog. My anonymity was long gone, but to my surprise, my readers weren’t. In fact, they seemed even more intrigued by Graduate-Level Ice Cream than before, and the Bad Boy Chronicles became this outlet where girls would get together for advice and wisdom from others who went through the same situations.

 

My first offer was to host a talk show. I was so not interested. It meant moving to LA and leaving behind Liam and my dad, who had become fast friends. Plus, I’m certainly not camera ready. No matter how many times Liam whispers to me about my “luscious legs” or “fantastic piece of ass,” I was not going to give up the gun on that one.

 

But the studios wouldn’t take no for an answer. They brought me back a million other little ideas, each with higher and higher paychecks. Eventually, Jana and I sat down and began researching talent agents for writers and producers. Cathy was top in her game, the highest recommend out there. She worked with everyone, it seemed, and she was a closer. Liam loved her during our first meeting when she basically told him he was getting paid crap under his contract with his talent agency.

 

No offer Cathy has brought to me has been like this one before. Having control of a script meant I could make it as real as I wanted to be. I could show the true story behind Amy, the ice cream truck, Liam, my dad… I could flip it around and make it a comedy about a girl wrapped up in boxing and jewelry theft. I could even write about today, my wedding day, and all the strange and horrible roads that led up to our happy ever after.

 

I sit up straight in bed and reach across one of the side tables for a framed photo of Liam and I. I know I shouldn’t love a photo taken by a news reporter, but it was caught in just the right moment. We were inside the police station’s waiting area right after Liam had been released from the hospital. I had gone to show support, to help him get through his deposition with the DA, but I was just, if not more, nervous than he was. A journalist with a cell camera caught me leaning into his shoulder, my forehead pressed deep into the fabrics of his jacket as he kisses my forehead.

 

What this photo doesn’t catch is what Liam said next, “No matter what happens, nothing is going to break us, Alana. You and me, we’re in this together forever.”

 

And he meant every single word. It was only a week later when he surprised me with a diamond with a cluster of rubies and emeralds surrounding it in a halo. It sparkles and shines just like his eyes in the moonlight of our new bedroom window. I was speechless as he pulled me into the empty ring of the MGM hotel, but I managed to say yes over and over again until he scooped me up and spun me around like a champion with their prize.

 

Today was the day we would finally seal that promise forever. Jana was in the next room sulking with a curling iron as I was pushing the time envelope, and my dad was somewhere out back, decorating the ice cream truck with a “Just Married” sign. Liam spent the night at his grandmother’s home, preparing the restaurant for the after party. Besides the three witnesses and the county judge, we wanted our wedding day to be just us.

 

Cathy grows impatient with me as she breaks all the thoughts running through my head, “Alana, I know you’re busy and that this isn’t the best time to talk to you about this, but this is show business, and it doesn’t wait around for anyone.”

 

“I get that. And I’m leaning towards saying yes. You know that having the writing credit is all that I want. Just do me a favor and ask the lawyers if I can still write the novel. If they let me have that, I’ll say yes, and you can bring the paperwork to the party tonight for me to sign.”

 

Cathy squeals loudly into the receiver, “Oh Alana! This is so exciting! This is what writers like you always dream of, but you’re one of the few that can say it happened! We’re going to make you and that new husband of yours rich!”

 

I hang up quickly on her, not wanting to think about money right now. Liam’s career and some final business deals with Steel Saints have made money less of an issue than it has ever been. Still, I couldn’t help beaming over one part of Cathy’s goodbye -- I was now a professional writer. It only took a kidnapping and a near-death experience for it to happen, but here I am!

 

I place the picture back on the table and head back into the living room. Jana is sitting on the couch in her navy blue garden dress and red heels looking completely uncomfortable. I apologize profusely and quickly tell her about the offer and the money. As my business partner, she still would get a portion of it. I made sure of that.

 

Plus, she was the one who most likely saved my dad’s life. On the day of Amy’s attack, she raced to the hospital and called security on a man who was stalking my dad’s room. It turned out he had orders to suffocate my dad while he slept, but Jana distracted him by flashing her good looks until the police had time to get him. I could never repay her back for what she has done, but making her my maid of honor and being sure she got roped into my future businesses was a start.

 

“Come on,” she says as takes my hand. “We’ve got a lot of work to do if you want to get to the courthouse by four o’clock.” She cranks the music up on the speakers as we both sing along. She finishes my hair, touches up my makeup, and then zips up the simple ivory colored tea length dress that once belonged to my mother. When she is finished, she steps back with two hands upon her lips, speechless.

 

But it’s my dad walking slowly behind her who brings me to tears, “I never thought I would live to see this...” He takes out a handkerchief and begins to dot along his ashy skin. Jana hops in the car behind us as we ride in the ice cream truck together towards the courthouse. All the while, we talk about the memories we have of summers spent at festivals and parks and times when a flavor I invented turned out to be a total dud.

 

I hate to admit that even I have a pit in my stomach about saying goodbye to this. After today, my dad will be the owner of The Emerald Pub and Ice Cream Shop, now that Liam’s grandmother has officially retired and Liam has become too busy to run the kitchen. It was another dream come true because of the person Liam has become.

 

We pull up to the courthouse. With barely a care in the parking lot, I spot Liam’s grandmother’s car off to the side. He’s inside, waiting for me. Sparks inside fill me up, making me dizzy as I grab hold of my dad’s waiting arm.

 

This was it. In just a few short minutes, I would walk back out this door with Liam. I would be Alana Murphy; the wife of a man who knew that love like ours was worth fighting for. I close my eyes and count the seconds that pass by with each step. When I finally open them, he’s there, standing at the altar. The music plays, and my life begins.

 

THE END

 

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