Chapter Sixteen
Bastian
Coming Clean
“Thank you so much for being here today, and for your candor,” the talk show host says, shaking my hand as the audience applauds. Show’s over, folks. That’s the one and only time you’ll see the mushy, battered insides of GeoRock’s CEO. Enjoy it while it lasts.
“My pleasure,” I say. “Do I get to keep the mug?” I ask in mock seriousness, lifting the obligatory cup with the station’s call letters on it that I’d been served coffee in.
“Of course.” The host laughs. She’s sort of the Oprah Winfrey type. But not mine. I’d prefer a certain slim brunette with aquamarine eyes dressed in a lavender gown that swirls out in a violet fan as we dance the Viennese waltz. “Best of luck, Bastian. With everything,” she says meaningfully. “I hope we don’t have to wait another seven years to have you on the show again.”
“I think I’m back for good,” I say. Suddenly her head cocks to the side, off set. In my peripheral vision, I see someone waving a cue at her. My gaze follows hers over toward the main camera.
What. The. Hell?
I’m paralyzed like the proverbial deer in the headlights as my brain registers what I see. Someone’s standing next to the guy—one of the producers, I think—who is gesturing at the host. And I can’t believe my eyes.
It’s Mara.
A smile begins to spread across my face, and I can’t stop it. Because under all my denial, and rationalization and bullshit pride, it’s what I’ve hoped for. That I hadn’t completely ruined my chances. She’s all I’ve thought about since the night I dropped her off at her apartment and seeing her now is all the proof that I need. I made a mistake in letting her go; not listening to my heart when it told me to grab hold of her and take her to her real home. My home.
She waves and returns the smile, and my heart feels like it’s about to switch places with my Adam’s apple. She came back. I’d set her free, and she came back. She’s mine.
“Keep it rolling.” The host signals the crew. “Ladies and gentlemen, don’t go anywhere. We have a surprise guest on the show this morning, and I think it’s just as much of a surprise to our present guest as it is to us,” she announces. She makes a scooping motion with her hand to the producer. “Would you come on out, please? Miss Mara Snow, everyone.”
The audience claps and Mara looks left and right, as though unbelieving she’s been called out on stage. The producer standing next to her gently prods her forward. She takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders and strides on set; the confidence she’s earned in the last two months of public performance showing beautifully. A wave of pride washes over me, along with caveman lust as I watch her long, shapely legs in a mid-thigh length skirt walking toward me.
I rise from my chair and reach for her hand as she draws nearer. She looks radiant, and my tongue feels like it’s in knots. As our fingers intertwine and I feel the warmth of her palm, I know I won’t be letting her out of my grasp again.
I can’t seem to speak, so I lean in and kiss her on the cheek instead. The sighs from the audience sound like a hot air balloon deflating. Mara tilts her head and looks at me curiously.
The host seems to pick up on her vibe. “Oh, come on now, you’re on national television. You can do better than that, Bastian!” she chides, but is grinning from ear to ear.
She’s damn right I can. But what I really want to do isn’t suitable for any kind of audience, certainly not one that’s watching from coast to coast. I want to make love to Mara, every square inch of her gorgeous body and her sparkling brain and tell her what I didn’t have the sense to before. That I love her.
“Well? What are you waiting for?” the host exclaims as a clapping chant of “Kiss her, kiss her” rises from the studio audience. “You heard them. If you don’t kiss her, someone else might!”
“Not a chance,” I say as I pull Mara into my arms and kiss her properly, on the lips, in front of the show host, the camera, the crew, and the whole damn world if they’re watching this channel; and I hope they are. The audience is on their feet, their chant dissolving into a round of cheers.
Her lips are warm and forgiving, and I want to memorize the feel and taste of them against mine. It lasts for five full seconds, then Mara breaks contact, and trains her unforgettable blue eyes on me. Their brilliance holds me and pulls me in like a tractor beam, and I put up no resistance. She leans in and touches her nose to mine so that I can’t miss hearing what she’s about to say. “Mr. Kingsley, I need to tell you something. You can’t fire me.”
“Is that what you came all this way to say?” I ask, my mouth dropping in feigned outrage.
“No. I came to say you can’t fire me because I resign as your intern. You were right. I think I’ve found another job. A better one.”
For a split second, I think she might be serious. It would serve me right if she dumped me on live television. But I don’t want to believe that. I’m almost nervous at what might happen next. “Does it pay well? What’s the job?”
She nods. “Staying by your side, for as long as you’ll have me. I don’t know what it pays, but I’m certain the job satisfaction will be reward enough.”
I’m grinning like an idiot, delirious in my happiness, the kind I never thought I’d be so blessed to experience again. And I won’t let it slip away this time with fake contracts and false promises. I want it to last forever, and there’s only one way to make that happen.
I place my hand over the wireless mic that is still pinned to my lapel before I speak.
“They all think we’re still engaged, you know that, don’t you?” I say, gesturing to the audience with a nudge of my head.
Mara nods and shrugs her shoulders. “Of course they do; they were never told otherwise. It’s what you wanted them to think, isn’t it?”
“You’re right. So, let’s not disappoint them. Mara Snow, will you marry me, for real this time?”
Her luscious, just-kissed lips hang open for a second before curving into a beaming crescent of joy. “Bastian Kingsley, yes, I will. I absolutely will.”
“Good. This is one contract I’ll never let you out of,” I say, and seal it.
With a kiss, and the whole world to witness it.
THE END
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