Chapter 15
Emmet
Perez Hilton arrives in a limousine that swoops toward the curb at the underground dock. He emerges from the door, adjusting his sunglasses and looking around suspiciously as though he expects to be overtaken by a group of screaming fans.
But there aren't any.
While he readjusts his expectations to our relative privacy, I stride forward, holding out my hand in greeting.
He purses his lips thoughtfully and slides his hand against mine. “Mr. Riordan,” he smiles. “At long last.”
“Thank you so much for coming. It's great for you to make the time.”
I lead him down the short flight of concrete stairs to the floating dock on the river. Our other boat is here, not the sailboat but a thirty foot cruise liner that we sometimes use for dinner parties.
“Well isn't this nice!” he sighs, pulling himself up the railing and onto the boat. “You sure do know how to put on a show! Wait, is the river… pink?"
I smile and nod, walking up behind him with my arms crossed. There's a little bit of a breeze coming off the lake and I hope that Bella is wearing something warm enough. The days are starting to get cooler and the temperatures could drop suddenly, especially on the water.
“Yes, well, if they can dye the river green for St. Patrick's Day, the could certainly die the river my girlfriend’s favorite color for this, right?”
“Your girlfriend!” Perez repeats, his cheeks dimpling deeply. I'm not sure if I like this guy or not. I’m pretty sure he said some fairly crappy things about me, but then again that's his job. Still, he has enough reach that this fairytale should get a lot of good exposure.
“She is definitely a lucky girl.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I see I got a text from Dillon.
“They are pulling up now,” I mutter, rushing back off the boat and up the dock stairs. I'm excited to see her, my heart racing like a little boy. This really is pretty cool. I can't wait to see her face.
Dillon holds the door open for, taking her hand and helping her from the car. When she sees me, her eyes quickly look over my shoulder and scan the river, widening dramatically. Her lips form of perfect O of surprise.
Then she glances back at Dillon, winking at him and rolling her eyes as if to say, oh you shouldn't have.
She's wearing a blue dress that ties at the waist and has a waterfall of flowy fabric that swirls around her ankles. A shawl is knotted casually over her shoulders, and her hair is tucked into a secure style. She thought of everything from the temperature to the wind.
That's my girl.
“Your chariot awaits,” I smile, cursing myself for saying something so absolutely stupid right off the bat. I offer her my elbow and she takes it graciously, squeezing my bicep.
“I almost can't believe we’re doing this!” she whispers as I guide her down the stairs.
Me neither.
She shakes Perez’s hand and we get underway, gliding along the pink toned river, waving periodically to the throngs of onlookers who hang over the railings and wave and hoot at us. Dillon was right, this is a significant thing. There have to be three or four thousand people gathered on the bridge, like we are in a parade. But we are the only boat on the river, so this must be all for us.
“Champagne?” I hear Dillon ask behind me and the characteristic pop of the cork.
“Don't mind if I do,” Perez sighs, taking the first glass and practically chugging it before holding it out again for a refill immediately. “Oh my stars, that is good!”
I slide behind Bella, angling her and nudging her subtly toward the front of the boat. We don't really have to talk to Perez. Dillon can handle that. But Dillon told me that I needed her to be in position for the second part of our cruise.
She holds her champagne flute up, clinking the rim against mine and taking a slow sip. “This really is quite delicious,” she says slyly, rolling her eyes as though she understands just how ridiculous our guest is.
“I'm really glad you like it,” I answer truthfully. My heart is beating fast. Hers is too, I see, though she has that same calm exterior like always. Or maybe I'm mistaken, maybe it's just the vibrations of the boat motor. Maybe it's a slight chill from the breeze that is waving the shiny tendrils of her hair out behind her.
I slide an arm around her shoulders and draw her closer to me. “Are you cold?”
“I'm perfect,” she sighs.
“You really are, you know,” I answer.
“Well, I am a fairytale princess, after all,” she quips, a little sarcastically.
“No, I really mean it. And I don't mean the fake parts, or the showy parts. I mean, like… you,” I mutter, stumbling over my words and feeling stupid as they come out. “I mean, what I know of you anyway. I'm sure there's more.”
She shrugs shyly, glancing away, taking a sip of champagne. “No, I think that what you see of me is probably all there is.”
I want to laugh at that. “Bella, I think you may be the most complicated person I ever met,” I confess. “And I've met a lot of people people. A lot of really weird people.”
“Ha!” she laughs, the sound bouncing musically over the water. “I might be weird. I do spend a lot of time by myself, talking to myself. I think that's like the definition of weird or something.”
“I suppose it is.”
Suddenly it feels like a first date all over again. I'm awkward and unsure, wanting to ask her about herself, not knowing how to put the words together. I have that strange urge to tell her everything about me, to reveal something no matter how stupid it is, just to keep her talking. I just want to be close to her in even minute ways.
“What about you?” she asks me suddenly, squinting, looking up and then away.
“Me? Well I think we've already established I am pretty weird too.”
She laughs again, a sound I don't think I could ever get tired of hearing. “Okay, then… tell me something else about yourself.”
“Like what?”
“Like… something other people don't know. Like, what's your secret desire? If you could do anything?”
“My secret desire,” I repeat, obviously stalling for time. “I guess that would have to be… privacy.”
“Privacy?” she asks, glancing at me suspiciously. “That's sort of a surprising answer.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, you do seem to kind of seek out attention, you know, at least a little bit…” she scoffs. “Like with congresswomen and stuff like that.”
“Oh!” I chuckle. “Yeah, well what are you gonna do? But what I mean is… sometimes I want to escape. Do things like write a donkey down the side of a hill in the Grand Canyon. Take a train across Europe, not a jet. Go on a sightseeing tour bus, you know, like people do.”
“Like people do,” she smiles. “I would like these kinds of things too.”
I just grin at her. That's when I was hoping she would say. I start to ask her something else, but her attention is diverted away.
As we round a bend, the sun is just about set now. The pinkish hue of the river is being obscured by the darkening air, turning into a deep amethyst. But above us, Riordan Tower looms straight and tall into the sky. Clouds float behind it, accentuating its dark, angular shape. It's completely black, as though the power has gone out or something. None of the window lights are on at all. Then suddenly, it begins to change.
“What the?” she gasps, squinting up at the building. I do the same thing.
As we watch, a thousands office windows flicker between light and dark, as though there are thousands of strobe lights in every office. They flash randomly, seeming to sparkle like fireworks. Gradually, the sparkles begin to order themselves, then change colors to pink. When the rest of the window lights go out, a big heart remains lit in the center of the building, glowing out for everyone to see.
“Oh!” I hear the gasp behind me as Perez Hilton notices the display. “Isn’t that romantic?”
Glancing down at Bella, I can see her wide, delighted smile. She's rapt, watching the building expectantly. I want to watch her face, to see every changing expression. But I also want to see what she sees and I force myself to look away.
As soon as I look at the building, the heart begins to change. Some windows go dark, some go light. Some are blue. The pattern melts and then reforms, gradually ordering itself into words.
MARRY.
ME.
BELLA.
The thousands of onlookers gasp simultaneously. Bella gasps. I barely stop myself from gasping.
She turns to face me, pulling away slightly. Her face is shining, her smile wistful and delighted.
“Emmet… did you do that for me?”
I reach into my pocket, drawing out the black velvet box and opening it for her. Then, though I thought that I wouldn't, I drop to one knee in front of her, holding the ring and hoping she'll take it.
“Bella Cage, you’re the most magical thing that's ever happened to me. I want to spend my life making magic for you. Will you marry me?”
Perez Hilton yelps, clapping his hands over his mouth.
Bella just smiles. With slightly trembling hands, she reaches out and plucks the ring from its box, sliding it on her finger and holding it out to look at it. I take her hand in mine and drive it to my lips, kissing her smooth skin gently, then standing up so I can kiss her on the mouth. I feel the ring when her hand slides up the backs of my arm and she kisses me back, holding me tightly. I feel the slight coolness of that metal band and wonder at the magic of all this.
Suddenly, everyone begins to applaud. We pull apart and glance back up at the building to see that the message has changed. Now it reads, “SHE SAID YES!”
“Well, this is really just wonderful!” Perez announces. “We need more champagne!”
Applause rings out, echoing across the water back and forth. Thousands of people wish us well, waving, clapping, yelling for us. I look quickly at Dillon, who is beaming broadly. He really did outdo himself this time. It is the perfect amount of spectacle and magic, every bit she deserves.
Bella raises an arm overhead, displaying the ring which people probably can’t see, exactly, but they seem to appreciate anyway. While she did tell me that it should be able to be seen from space, it turns out that there actually is an upper limit for a “tastefully absurd” number of carats.
The captain slowly circles the boat back down the river, depositing us on our private dock, wishing us well along with the other two crewmembers. Bella clings tightly to my arm, smiling and nodding at everyone, looking dazzled and delighted and all the other things that she should look.
It really is like a fairytale, in a lot of ways. I didn't ever expect this sort of thing, but now here it is. It feels so good, I don’t want it to end.
Perez makes his way back to his waiting limousine, promising us that his photos are spectacular, and his commentary will be even better. He knows this story should get him a lot of advertisers as long as he can get it on his site before everybody on that bridge posts their own version.
Time is money, after all.
We wave at the taillights of his limo as he drives away, and each heave a sigh of relief. Cars speed by on Lower Wacker, just thirty feet away or so. They're all oblivious, but we won't have this kind of privacy for very long.
“That really was wonderful!” she sighs. “I don't see how anybody could ever have asked for a proposal more perfect than that one. Thank you so much!”
“And what about me? Are you thanking me?” Dillon asks, nudging closer.
She bites her lower lip, winking at him suggestively. “You know every camera on that bridge is pointed at us right now. But I would like to see with you clothes off, just as soon as we get back to the penthouse. Fair enough?”
“I'll take what I can get,” he shrugs. But he's happy, I can tell. He's very proud of himself right now.
“And you!” she smiles, turning back to me. “You were so convincing! I totally believed that… well, almost. Good job!”
My mouth goes a little bit dry. “Well… you know me. Mr. Prepared.”
She picks up her left hand, sliding the ring from her finger. Making sure her hand is hidden behind her body and away from anybody who might see the gesture, she slides the engagement ring back off and holds it between her thumb and forefinger, staring into it for a few long seconds.
“It really is a beautiful ring,” she sighs wistfully. “Like… I almost wish I could keep it.”
“But you —” I start, then stop. She holds up the ring to me, tucking it against the palm of my hand and folding my fingers back over it before I get the words out.
“We did a good job, boys!” she declares. I stare into her face in the quickly fading light, trying to make out what she's thinking. Is she relieved? Glad to be done with the charade?
“Well I guess, um, oh wait,” she says, pulling her phone from her handbag. “It's Hannah calling… I have to take this.”
She walks away, drawing the phone to her ear. Dillon scowls at me, stepping forward confidentially. “What the hell just happened?” he asks quickly.
“I don't… I don't know, man, okay?”
“She gave you the ring back?”
“Well, yeah, she gave the ring back. Wasn’t that the plan? This is all just… fuck. I don't know. What was I thinking?”
“Were you thinking something different was going to —”
“Guys, I gotta go,” Bella interrupts. Dillon and I separate as though guilty.
“What do you mean?”
She holds the phone up, shaking it back and forth with a sour look on her face. “It's Hannah. Something about the merger. I gotta go talk to her, like, now. Could I… maybe use your car?”
“Sure, sure,” Dillon shrugs, shaking his head in confusion. “We’ve got two here. Pick the one you like best.”
“Okay, guys, sorry!” she says in a hurry, pressing her fingers to her lips and blowing kisses at us like nothing just happened.
Before I even really figure out what's going on, she gets in the car and the driver pulls away into traffic, leaving us both feeling like we just lost something very important.