I quickly scan the room, like I’ve been doing regularly for the last twenty minutes. There’s a shitload of people here. Scarlett’s red hair should make them a little easier to spot, but so far, I’ve come up empty. I’ve been up here yapping away at the podium now for ten minutes, but I can only stall so long.

“Now let’s talk about risk versus reward. The first thing a smart investor will do when considering putting large sums of money into something is to pull up a blank spreadsheet page and start putting risks on one side and rewards on the other.”

Another scan of the room, trying not to look anxious. Truth is, I’m nervous as fuck.

“In the case of tech investing, you’ll have mostly monetary figures in both columns. Total them up and you get your risk-to-reward ratio. If it’s positive enough, you can comfortably jump. If that number is negative, though, you’ll probably want to think twice.”

Shit. Where the hell are they?

“As you continue to appraise your potential investment, chances are new variables will enter the picture, and you’ll have to examine them to see how they affect your risk-to-reward ratio. Your job as an investor is to look at a situation, identify any variables at play, then determine whether the possible reward is worth the risk you run if the investment doesn’t pan out. I once backed out of a huge deal to acquire a startup when I discovered they hadn’t bothered to patent their invention.”

That gets a small laugh. Right as I open my mouth to speak again, I hear a loud cough from the back of the room.

Looking in that direction, I see Scarlett.

And right next to her, Tempest.

My heart jumps at the sight. I’m going to owe that redhead a gigantic favor. I quickly look away before Tempest knows I’ve seen them.

“There’s no way around it,” I continue. “The biggest rewards you’ll ever be presented in life will require the biggest risks. But the assessment process remains the same: Compare your potential risk to the potential reward and keep factoring in new variables as the show up.”

Now’s the time to seal this deal.

“Allow me to give you a rather unorthodox demonstration…”

I look to the back of the room.

“Tempest Morrison, would you please come to the podium?”

Even from across this big room, I see a multitude of emotions on her face. Outright ire seems to be the most prominent. Can’t say I blame her, though.

Tempest crosses her arms and refuses to budge. People start to look around the room.

If she doesn’t get up here, this whole thing falls apart. And I don’t really have a speech, per se, so I’ll be in deep trouble.

Then my new best friend, Scarlett, comes to the rescue again, locking arms with Tempest and escorting her to the front of the room. She doesn’t want to come anywhere near me, but Scarlett manages to get her close to the podium.

She’s wearing a flat-out sexy little black dress, since she thought she was going to work at the LBD. It’s a short off-shoulder dress, and those glorious tattoos spill from her exposed upper chest across her shoulders and both arms. I’m expecting whistles and cat-calls, but the crowd is surprisingly respectful, probably because it’s made up mostly of nerds.

One glance at the fire in Tempest’s eyes tells me she’s playing right into my plan without realizing it.

“So this is Tempest,” I say, gesturing at her. “Tempest is absolutely furious with me right now because she thinks I’m a total asshole. And the odds are pretty good that she’s right, because as we know, the world is full of asshole guys.”

That gets a laugh. She’s not laughing, though. She looks like she wants to kick me in the nuts again.

“I made a very stupid bet with some friends of mine, and while the details of the bet aren’t important, the important part is that it totally changed Tempest’s opinion of me. She thought I was great, then I accidentally gave her a new variable that made her see me as a truly shitty investment.”

That gets an even bigger laugh. Tempest looks at the audience and nods her head, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“But I’m about to introduce my own set of new variables and see if I can change that terrible opinion of me. The reward for me is obvious, right?” I again gesture in her direction. “And as for risks, they don’t come any bigger than this...”

I look out into the crowd.

“Is the King in the house?”

Suddenly the song “Burning Love” plays over the house sound system and there’s a commotion from the back of the room. A hotel employee opens a side door and out runs Elvis Presley. Or at least a reasonable copy of Elvis, in a rhinestone-encrusted spandex jumpsuit with bell bottoms and jumbo collar. A gold belt buckle the size of a salad plate, jet black hair, thick sideburns and big sunglasses with gold-plated frames complete the look.

The room bursts into applause as Elvis waves his way to the front of the room, stopping a couple of times to bust out his signature hip-swiveling dance moves. By the time he reaches the podium, the crowd is standing.

Meanwhile, Tempest is busy giving me a “go to hell” look.

Elvis shakes my hand and I enthusiastically say, “Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Elvis Presley!”

He leans into the microphone and says, “Thankyewverymuch,” and the audience laughs in unison.

Once the noise settles a little, Elvis looks at me and says with that trademark curled upper lip, “So are we gonna make this happen?”

“I hope so,” I say, my stomach in knots.

“Well, come on man, lemme see that ring.”

Tempest’s mouth drops open as the audience gasps.

I reach into the pocket of my pants and produce a ring I spent a small fortune on just hours earlier. I actually had to track down the owner of a ritzy jewelry store and have him come in at eight in the morning. Hopefully, it’ll be worth it.

I show the ring to Elvis and look at Tempest, who is obviously in a state of utter disbelief.

“All right, man,” Elvis says, “I know this is gonna be painful to a rich cat like you, but you’re gonna have to get down on one knee. Let this beautiful woman know you’re willing to do anything to win her love.”

I drop to one knee and hold out a hand to Tempest.

She looks at me, tearing up, and shakes her head no.

I nod yes in return.

She again shakes her head but takes a step closer.

I nod.

She shakes.

Then her hand touches mine.

Elvis takes the mic and holds it between us.

I swallow hard and say, “Tempest, if you would do me the great honor of being my wife and forever partner-in-crime, I swear in front of all these people that I will never again do anything stupid to make you think less of me.”

Her eyes have softened and tears are forming.

“Will you marry me?” I ask.

Tempest hesitates as the crowd’s murmurs increase.

Then she nods yes.

I hurriedly slip the ring on her finger before she can change her mind.

She stares at it in shock as Scarlett slides in next to her, presumably to see the ring. I nod to Grace sitting in the front row, and she comes to my side, just as we planned it.

“Alright then, let’s do this,” Elvis says. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the shadow of the famous Las Vegas Strip to forever unite this couple in matrimony…”

Tempest’s jaw drops again. She looks at me, then at a laughing Scarlett, then back at me.

“Maddox Ramsey, will you have this woman, Tempest Morrison, to be your lawful wedded wife? Do you promise to love her, comfort her—”

“Wait!”

It’s the first thing Tempest has said so far in all this madness.

“Is this real?” she asks as she pulls her hand away, still in a state of shock.

“Absolutely,” I say. “You said you’d marry me. Why wait? I want our life together to start immediately, right here in this gigantic meeting room in front of all these total strangers.”

“What’s she doing here?” She’s looking at Grace.

“Grace is my best man.” I shrug. “Kind of.”

Now Tempest turns to Scarlett. “And you’re my…”

“Maid of honor,” Scarlett says. “And Maddox’s accomplice.”

“But… but…” Tempest is flustered. She looks at Elvis. “Can he really marry us? Will it even be legal?”

“In all fifty states, ma’am,” Elvis replies. “This ain’t my first rodeo.”

There’s a smattering of laughter from the crowd. I sense that Tempest is totally overwhelmed by everything that’s happened in the last few days.

Taking her hand again, I softly say, “Baby, we are perfect together. You know it, and I definitely know it. No other woman has come close to making me feel what I feel when I’m with you. I know this is coming at you out of nowhere, but let Elvis marry us and we’ll figure the rest out as we go along. Our being together is the only thing that matters.”

The crowd is respectfully quiet as Tempest gathers her thoughts.

“Will we make babies?” she asks.

“Of course we will. Beautiful ones.”

“How many?”

“Three?” I respond.

My actual answer was two, but the look on her face tells me my guess was right. Out of nowhere, she throws her arms around me and squeezes my body to hers. I reciprocate the hug, and suddenly we’re kissing passionately.

Elvis waits a few seconds, then says, “Ah hell, I now pronounce you man and wife.”

The audience erupts in spontaneous applause and cheers, and Elvis shouts to make himself heard over the din:

“You may continue to kiss the bride!”