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“Grant, honey,” says Cheryl. “Just order for the whole table. I think that’s going to get us the best meal we can have here.”
We end up with a whole spread of decadent molecular gastronomy items. Foie Gras Fruit, and a pumpkin pie that is totally clear and fully see through. I end up with a plate of deconstructed smoked salmon as my main dish, and Cheryl has some form of ravioli that is clear to look at and melts on the tongue. Cauliflower three ways ends up in front of Eliza, and the brothers both get rhubarb gel spheres and fish.
Don seems almost as unimpressed with the food as Charlie is. He prods at the meat pate in front of him, a smear of pink over the plates. “This is steak?”
“Just eat it,” says Cheryl. “And stop playing with your food.”
Don grumbles but does as he’s told.
The art that is our dessert shows up at the very end of the meal, during which Cheryl finally asks, “How did the two of you meet?”
“I live next door to your granddaughter,” I tell her. “She’s lovely, by the way.”
“She is,” says Don, a fond smile overtaking his face at the thought of his granddaughter. “Brooke is a good girl.”
“Ashley is great with Brooke,” says Grant, reaching out and putting a hand on my shoulder. “We started talking over the fence in Brooke’s yard, and it just… went from there.”
“I don’t know how anyone could resist your son’s cooking,” I tell her, leaning forward. “He had won me over at the first bite.”
“She says that constantly, but I don’t get it. It’s not like I can pull off something like this spread.” Grant gestures towards the table.
Cheryl, who is also clearly unimpressed with the food, says, “And we’re all glad for that.”
Eliza snorts into her hand. “Sorry. I just… Have to agree.”
She didn’t eat much of her food. Charlie ate everything on his plate, though he kept up a running commentary the entire time that he did.
“Well, before we call it quits on this unique dinner experience,” starts Grant, standing up. “There’s actually a second reason that I wanted all of you to come out for dinner tonight. I wanted to make sure that you were here when I asked, well…”
He trails off and then steps around his chair and mine, so that he’s on the left side of me. Grant gets down on one knee, reaching out and taking hold of my hand. He runs his thumb over the back of my knuckles, and then looks up at me.
I stare down at him, struck by the sight even though I know it’s all just a big hoax. The truth is, there’s a part of me that doesn’t feel like it is just a hoax anymore. There is a section of my heart that is softening towards him, growing more and more fond of the man in front of me.
“Oh my,” says Cheryl, breathless.
Grant clears his throat. “I know that we haven’t been dating for long, but we’ve known each other for years. And in that time… You’ve always been a bright point in my life. A light in the darkest days. Something that makes me—ah, shit, I wanted to do something really over the top, you know, a nice, floral speech for you. But we both know that’s not the kind of guy I am.”
A smile graces my mouth. I twist my hand around, tangling our fingers together. “It’s not.”
“So I’m just going to say it,” Grant tells me. “And I’ll come up with a prettier way to tell you that I love you later. That okay with you?”
I have to swallow around a tightness in my throat. I nod at him.
Grant says, “Ashley, you’ve been an amazing friend for years. And you’ve become my best friend. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. And I don’t think there’s too much that you wouldn’t do for me.”
He lets go of my hand, reaching into the pocket of his slacks and pulling out a small black box. He cracks it open, revealing the ring within. It’s beautiful, a rose gold band with two gorgeous diamonds on the top. The stones glisten in the neat lighting of The Moon.
It feels as though everyone has stopped their meals to look at us. Everyone is holding their breath while they watch us, just waiting for him to pop the question.
Grant takes the ring out of the box and offers it to me. “Ashley, will you marry me?”
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I take the ring, gushing as I put it on my left ring finger. “Yes! Yes, I will. I would love to marry you. I would love to!”
I stand up, grabbing his hands and pulling him up to his feet. With Grant being just over six feet tall he towers over me, but there’s something very protective about it. The moment he’s on his feet again, Grant pulls me in for a passionate kiss. I throw my arms up around his neck to the sound of the table cheering and other diners in The Moon clapping for us. It’s just like in the movies, where everyone goes wild over the public proposal—only I’m the one that the applause is for this time around. Don is right there, clapping louder than any of the others.
The only one that doesn’t seem overly impressed by the whole scene is Charlie, who just watches us with this unhappy look on his face. Even Eliza is smiling at us, though there’s something vaguely disinterested in her vibe too.
And it’s not real. None of this is real. But I can’t help the warmth that floods to my face, the pinkness in my cheeks, the slight, emotional tremble in my voice when I tell him, again, “Yes, Grant. I would love to marry you.”
