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“Cocktail wear?” I questioned. But Eric had already hung up.
I rushed upstairs to get changed and fix my hair. My chaotic life with Eric had made me the master of quick change, and I even had time to fix my hair and apply a little foundation before I slipped into a print dress. It had been a present from my dad—or his secretary, at least—and as I looked at the elegant blue pattern in the mirror, I thought again about calling him.
But there was no time now. It could wait until I got there. I rushed downstairs and slipped on a pair of sneakers, holding my wedge heels in my hands. I made my way down to the garden, where a padlocked gate opened onto a small paved path that ran down to Westport Street. With the chatter of the paparazzi receding in the distance, I hurried down to the sidewalk, where a pristine white Tesla was waiting for me.
I opened the door and got into the backseat.
“Hi Paul,” I said.
“Good morning, Miss Reed,” Paul said politely. “He’s waiting for you at the Hiltman.”
“I know,” I said. “Any idea of what else is waiting there for me?”
In the rearview mirror, I thought I saw Paul’s stony face break into a little smile. “I’m afraid I’ve no idea, ma’am,” he said.
We drove through the city. Everything looked different now. As we approached the Common, the trees seemed a brighter shade of green, the sun sparkling over the waters of the bay. We pulled up in front of the glorious edifice of the hotel, and I got out. And then I saw him.
Eric was waiting for me. He was dressed in a smart blue suit with a gold tie. But even I was surprised when I bounded up the steps to greet him and saw that he was wearing a white carnation in his pocket.
“Hey,” I said. How easy and familiar with him I grew over the past few days. Ever since our first passionate meeting in the Hiltman, we finally discovered what we like the most about each other. And I was surprised when he leaned toward me and embraced me. His strong arms wrapped around me, and he kissed my cheek. As he pulled back, I looked into his eyes. In the sunlight they seemed lighter, almost hazel-colored, and he flashed a smile.
“Glad you could make it,” he purred, and the deep resonance of his voice sent a thrill of excitement through me.
“That’s all right,” I said, and to my astonishment, he took my hand. “But what am I doing here, Eric?”
“I thought perhaps you should meet some of the people who are excited about our engagement,” he said.
My excitement was suddenly replaced by a twinge of anxiety.
“Eric,” I said. “How much longer is this going to go on?”
By the elevator, he stopped and turned to face me.
“Jamie,” he said. “Have you seen the share prices in the last twelve hours?”
I felt confused. Was that all Eric was really interested in?
“No,” I said. Of course, I wasn’t checking the share prices. I was too busy being romanced, flung from one corner of the world to another by Eric. This was all going way too fast, faster than I could handle.
“Overnight,” he said, “my company’s stock has increased by about 10 percent. We’re doing well, Jamie. And it’s all thanks to you. Thanks to the picture.”
“The picture?” I said.
“It was the perfect advertisement,” he continued as we got into the elegant elevator. In the mirrored wall I saw us both. I had to admit, we made the perfect couple. Even if I didn’t know what was real and what was fiction anymore.
“What does that mean?” I said.
“It means,” Eric explained, “that people loved the ring. But more than that, it showed that I had so much trust in the product that I was willing to use it to marry you. To ask you to marry me.”
“Go on,” I said. The tantalizing thrill of the moment had gotten to me, already my head was whirling with possibilities.
“Jamie, our engagement—it could do wonderful things for the company. For us. For the both of us.”
“But it’s not true,” I said. “It’s a lie. And I won’t lie for you.”
“I’m not asking you to,” said Eric.
“Then what are you asking?” I said.
