Twenty-Two
Maddie
What sort of celebration happens on a Tuesday? I asked myself this as I got ready for dinner. I spent nearly the entire day trying to force myself to be calm, but it was hard when Gavin refused to explain anything. I messaged him in the afternoon asking if the dress needed to be classy or fun, and he had responded with either. I asked if I should wear a necklace, he said he didn’t care. I asked about any color schemes that I needed to be aware of, and he had replied with a sideways frown face. I had thrown my phone on the floor in frustrated and picked out a simple black cocktail dress, with a halter top and elbow length sleeves.
I spent some time on making my hair wavy and then pinned it up into a high bun. My eyes were smudged with charcoal with a lint hint of golden flakes at the tips, and I meticulously glued on false eyelashes to make mine look long and plump. Dark red lipstick and 20 minutes of blending foundation onto my face followed by another five of blush, and I was ready.
I pulled at the waist line of my dress. It was already as tight as a dress could be, and I knew I’d have to watch it on the carbs. I had eaten only a salad with half a protein shake after a workout, in case dinner ended with a chocolate cake for dessert, and my stomach growled in response.
My phone beeped, and I checked it to find a text from Gavin saying he was in the car outside. I opened the messenger app and replied with, “No dinner unless you meet me at my door. 215B. :)”
I snickered, knowing that he was cursing my name as he read the text. A small bubble with an ellipsis appeared as he began responding, and then it disappeared. I turned back toward the mirror and reapplied my lipstick, waiting.
He knocked on my door several minutes later.
“It’s open!” I yelled, still sitting at my vanity inside my room. I heard him grumble as he entered the apartment.
“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” he said from the living room. “This part of town isn’t safe.”
I laughed from my spot. “Safer than your part of town,” I said. “No one here has anything worth stealing.”
His head popped up from around the corner as he entered my room. I watched him from a reflection in the mirror. Fitted white suit, smooth trousers, a gray tie. He looked incredible, even with the stubble from a five o’clock shadow. I glanced at my black dress and gray heels. We were quite the good-looking couple, I realized. And it seemed that he shared the same thought as a look of desire crossed his face.
“Lock your door,” he said and leaned against the door. “Or else I’ll have to install a security system in here.”
“I knew you were coming,” I said and stood. “I left it unlocked for you. Plus, I have a security system here.” I gestured at a small black box beside the front door. “Nancie and I had it turned off when we first moved here, though. It was charging us $50 a month.”
“Well you have more than enough money to activate it,” he said. “I’ll send over another couple hundred to your account if you send proof that it’s on.”
I blinked. “Really? Why? Are you worried about me?” I grinned as a blush crossed his face. He looked at the floor, then at the ceiling, and finally at me.
“You’re the only thing making my mom happy these days,” he said. “I sort of need you to not be kidnapped or assaulted.”
Disappointment hit me as I gathered my purse and slipped my phone into it. “Of course,” I said. It was silly of me to think that he might have developed any feelings at all. Meanwhile, I was struggling to form complete sentences around him.
“This dinner,” he said as we left my apartment and walked down the hallway. I remained two feet behind him as he led us toward the elevator. “It’s at that new hibachi place downtown.”
“A hibachi dinner?” I asked, surprised. I was definitely dressed up for something much more expensive.
“Is that not fancy?” he asked and glanced at me. I realized he was being serious. “I don’t bother with going to expensive places.”
I tried remembering if anyone had even mentioned the restaurant on social media. I pulled out my phone and looked through several apps using the search function. I couldn’t find anything about it. We entered an empty elevator and stood several feet away from one another.
“Well, what is it for?” I asked as the doors closed.
“A proposal,” he said.
“For what?” I was still staring at my phone.
“Well, for you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “To marry me.”
My phone slipped out of my fingers, but I caught it before it could crash into the bottom of the elevator. I took a deep breath and looked at him.
“This is a proposal dinner?” I asked. “Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”
“You needed to look somewhat surprised in the pictures,” he said.
“Pictures,” I repeated, realizing what it meant. “For your mom.”
“And to show at the wedding, which will be this weekend,” he added as the elevator doors opened. I followed him to his car.
“This weekend?” I nearly shrieked. “Gavin, you can’t plan a wedding within a week; that’s impossible!”
He glanced at me. “So I’ve heard.”
He opened the passenger car door for me and left without closing it. I stretched and grabbed the handle and closed it myself.
“Well, you can’t propose to me at a hibachi dinner,” I said. Nerves were rubbing in my stomach, despite knowing that it was all fake. Still, a part of me was excited and almost happy.
“The entire floor is rented out,” he said. “We can try and make it look fancy in the pictures at least.”
“Did you tell your mom about this?” I asked. “Where the dinner’s at, at least?”
“She said to make it a surprise,” he said. I nodded; that explained the weird location. I smiled as I watched him drive. Despite having billions of dollars, it would have been impossible to tell that Gavin was anything more than a middle-class momma’s boy. He wore the same suits often, never matched any of his clothes, didn’t utilize his giant mansion to its full potential, and drove cars that the average person didn’t exactly lust over.
I glanced at his golden watch, a brand that was probably only a thousand dollars at most. There were men far less rich than he who wore million-dollar watches. And I had flirted with plenty of them.
We arrived at the restaurant shortly afterward, with him opening my door and closing it behind me this time. I slipped an arm through his elbow, laughing to myself as he tensed.
“Remember to look surprised, after the dinner,” he said. “I have a professional photographer coming to shoot us.”
“Should I ask in what way?” I asked. Gavin frowned and raised an eyebrow. “Never mind the bad joke. Sorry.” A host led us to the only hibachi grill that was on, and I was thankful that our table was a classic two-seater marble table with a hibachi attached to the left side. The host pulled out my seat as Gavin took his, and we faced one another as the chef started cooking beside us.
“I’ll be honest,” I said as our waiter poured each of us a glass of wine. “This is a lot fancier than I expected.”
The restaurant itself was a dim room with at least six giant hibachi grills, and a giant aquarium lining the black and gold themed walls.
“Two cups of sake, please,” Gavin asked the waiter and turned to me. “What, did you expect me to propose to you at some random one-star Japanese restaurant where the meat source is suspicious? I do have some standards.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I guess I did sort of misjudge you a little.” I took a sip of wine as the chef started a little show on the grill. He grilled vegetables and chopped up several chunks of chicken while adding in a scrambled egg and white rice.
“My father loved hibachi grills,” Gavin said as we watched the show. “He never spent much money on himself, only on us, but the only thing he ever wanted on his birthday was dinner at a hibachi restaurant. So, Mom would make it happen for him every year. He’d get the fried rice, chicken tempura, sushi, grilled beef, anything on the menu.”
Our waiter returned with two small ceramic cups of sake. “And always washed it down with sake.”
I sniffed it. “I’ve had it a few times at parties,” I said. “But never at a proper restaurant.”
“Sake with a side of chicken tempura was Dad’s favorite,” Gavin said and held his cup to mine. “A toast, maybe?”
I clinked mine with his.
“To your father,” I said. “It sounds like he was a wonderful man.”
“He really was.” Gavin smiled and took a long sip. The flavor was light and mild on my tongue, a stark contrast to the strong and bitter taste of my wine. “Mom worshiped the man. Even when he was off for months at a time on business trips, she didn’t look at another person. They were in love.”
“Sounds like my parents,” I said. Our chef placed two plates full of fried rice in front of us. We both broke our chopsticks open and dug in. “They could be homeless, living on the streets, but would still be happy as long as they had each other.”
“I guess both of our parents gave us impossible standards to live up to, huh?” he asked.
“I always thought it was naive,” I admitted. “Hoping for a love like theirs. Or even having one. They’ve given up so many better opportunities for our lives because they didn’t want to be apart.”
“Like what?” he asked.
“My father was offered a position at one of his old jobs that paid a six-figure salary,” I said. “But it was in another state, one where my mom wouldn’t be able to transfer her work for another two years. At the time, I was 15 and working at a grocery store. I think it was illegal how many hours I worked, and because I was always there, my grades were awful. I had to quit soccer because of it, and couldn’t even buy school lunch because all of my money was going toward their bills. But,” I took another long gulp of wine. “He didn’t take it because they weren’t okay with being two states apart for two years.”
“Did you pay for your college?” he asked. I shook my head.
“I have enough student loans that even with your money, I’ll probably barely make a dent,” I said.
He leaned against his chair. “Two different types of love,” he said. “I guess we’re trying to find a good balance in between.”
“You can try,” I said, feeling the effects of both the wine and sake. “I’m pretty sure I’m done looking. If anything, love is waiting for me in Hollywood in the form of a movie script.”
Gavin laughed. “And my love is waiting for me in the form of a book deal,” he said.
“You’re writing again?” I asked and leaned forward. “You have to let me read it.”
“If you can promise to be honest with your feedback, sure,” he said. We finished our fried rice, and the chef began grilling shrimp and seasoned beef. He gave me one to try, and I offered a thumbs up.
“Let’s both go to Hollywood,” I said, a little surprised at my outburst. It seemed liquid courage was backing me up. “I’ll get a movie deal, and you get a book deal, and we’ll be happy in our own little world with our own type of love.”
For a split second, it seemed that Gavin was going to agree. His eyes lit up, lips curved into a smile, and he drank his sake. But then he realized something and pulled out a box in his pocket.
He was thinking about his mother, I realized.
“Before I can be happy with anything,” he said, “I have to make sure someone else is happy.”
“Do you want to wait for the photographer?” I asked, glancing around the restaurant.
“He’ll get pictures during dessert,” Gavin said and pulled out a diamond ring from the box. I held back a gasp. It was huge, at least several karats, and bounced off rays of light as the light fixtures on the ceiling caught the sharp edges. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, certainly not Gavin to go down on one knee, but I definitely didn’t expect him to toss the ring on the table in between us.
“Put it on,” he said. “For the pictures, and for the wedding, but you don’t have to wear it any other time.”
It was the least romantic moment of my life, but there was a spark inside me that I couldn’t ignore. Even as I grabbed the diamond ring from the table and slipped it onto my own finger, I still felt the tiniest bit happy.
The rest of our dinner was served, and finally a matcha bean cake for dessert. A photographer arrived and began snapping pictures of us at the table. It wasn’t very difficult to force a smile on my face, and even Gavin’s looked more natural than I would have expected.
I took a picture of both of us with the ring in between and posted it on my social media accounts.
“There,” Gavin said as we finished up. “Proposal night went off without a hitch.”
“Now for a weekend wedding,” I said as we walked back to his car. I couldn’t stop staring at the ring on my finger.
“You don’t have to keep wearing it,” he said. I nodded and slipped it into my purse. I didn’t want to make things any weirder than they already were.
“We’ll have dinner with my mother tomorrow to celebrate,” he said as we arrived at my apartment. It didn’t seem as if he was going to walk me to my door. “And then start planning the wedding.”
“It’ll be a fake license, right?” I asked. “How are you getting a clergy to sign off on a fake wedding?”
“You’d be surprised at what people will do for money,” he said and glanced at me. “Then again, maybe you wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Low blow,” I said and left the car. “Good night, Gavin; thanks for the fake proposal.”
His head ducked until I could see him through the passenger side window.
“Thanks for the fake acceptance,” he said and drove off.
I walked back to my apartment and closed the door behind me. I glanced at the alarm system and reminded myself to call in the morning and activate it, although I wouldn’t send Gavin any proof. I didn’t need anything more from him.
I sat at the small breakfast table and dug through my purse until my fingers found the rounded metal of a ring. The diamond ring fell in front of me, and I slipped it onto my finger and stared at it.
Gavin was insane if he thought I wasn’t going to wear it every chance I got.