Page 194 of One of Those Amnesia Stories

“And give up all the points I’m supposed to earn from this?” I said. “Absolutely not.”

She took the bouquet, smiling despite herself. “This. This right here is why I can never quit this job.”

I crossed my arms. “That, and the fact that your contract says you can’t quit until the day I die.”

I paused.

“You really should read things before you sign them.”

She rolled her eyes and set the money bouquet beside my tablet. “So what are they saying out there? What’s the most popular headline?”

“The usual.”

I counted them off on my fingers. “Velaré Up in Flames—Literally. Is This the End for Sterling and Hartley? Garcia’s First Collaboration Ends in Ruins. Is This a Sign? From Divorce to Ashes: Can Alessia Quinn Rise Again?”

She groaned and sank farther into the pillows. “When are they going to move on from the divorce?”

“Probably after I remarry.” I picked at a loose thread on the blanket. “Maybe not even then.”

Her head turned on the pillow.

Her eyes found mine.

“Are you?” she asked. “Planning to get married again?”

I held her gaze, letting a small smile pull at my mouth. “I don’t know. Will you say yes if I propose?”

She lifted one shoulder.

“If the diamond is big enough.”

“Noted.”

The door opened before either of us could elaborate.

Felicity poked her head through, still in her scrubs, her ponytail beginning to surrender strands of hair around her face. “Whatcha doin?”

Naija didn’t hesitate.

“She was just telling me how she was going to propose to me.”

Felicity’s entire face brightened. She came into the room and dropped onto the little sofa in the corner as though she’d just been handed the best gossip of the week.

“I always knew you two were going to be official one day.”

Her gaze moved around the room, taking in the flowers, the cards, and the small cluster of get-well balloons Rohan had brought, which were now slowly deflating against the ceiling.

Something in her expression softened.

“You sure you don’t want us to call your family?”

Naija shook her head. “If one person finds out, everyone finds out. Then, next thing I know, I’ve got fourteen cousins in this room, someone’s crying, somebody else is praying too loudly, and my aunt has brought her famous casserole that nobody actually likes.”

She exhaled, long and slow. “I need quiet. I need peace. I’m going home later today anyway. I’ll call them then. When I can hang up when I want to.”

Felicity sighed, pulling her legs up onto the sofa. “If you say so.” She tucked her feet under her, settling in. She crossed her arms, then looked between us. “Where are the guys? They promised lunch.”

As if on cue, the door swung open and they spilled into the room, their voices layering over each other before they were even fully through the frame.