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After getting into my tux — yes, they’re making me wear a freaking tux — I take a deep breath and make my way to the room I’m supposed to propose in.
Rose petals line the room, candles flicker from the ocean breeze that manages to seep in from under the glass windows, or doors, or walls. I’m not sure what you’d classify them as.
It started raining so they had to change the setting from the beach to one of the event spaces that overlooks the water. I’m secretly relieved as I’m sick of the sand.
The room is large and white, like most of the hotel is, but there’s a marble-style texture on the walls that I quite like.
I wonder what it would be like to bring one of these girls back to my house in LA, or even my New York loft. I can’t picture them living at either location. I can’t imagine a woman bonding with my mother.
My mom is a hard one to win over. No one is ever good enough, which is fine by me, but I know she wants grandchildren. She would never push me on it, given how I grew up, but I know it would make her happy.
I watch as a few of the assistants, who look like they haven’t slept since we got here, add more petals and more candles. This has got to be a fire hazard.
Tiffany walks over. She’s dolled up a lot more than usual.
“Maybe I should just propose to you.” I spin her around.
“Oh honey, you’re not my type.” She laughs and looks down at her dress. “We decided to get dressed up for the proposal and we’re all going to go for drinks after. You’re welcome to join.” Her expression is hopeful, but she knows I won’t.
“We’ll see.” I feel a pang of guilt. She’s always inviting me places and I’m always turning her down.
“It’s not a no, so I’ll take it.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
Tiffany runs through the set up and what I need to do, and which cameras are the important ones.
I start pacing back and forth. I can feel my heart racing and my palms are slick with sweat.
It’s not a real proposal, I keep telling myself. It feels pretty real though. The tux, the candles, the roses.
I take a deep breath. What have I gotten myself into?
I grab my phone and call my COO.
“Someone better be dying,” Jason groans.
“I have to propose to someone so yeah, I might as well be.”
“This wasn’t my idea and you know it,” he huffs.
“But why couldn’t you have done it?”
“Because I’m not the one with the reputation problem.”
I know he’s right, but I just need a reminder of why I’m putting myself through with this. “Do you really think this will help?”
He sighs. “Yes, I do. I think it’ll be good publicity. Besides, is it really that grueling to be in The Bahamas with beautiful women? I think most guys would be happy with that.”
“I hate to point out the obvious, but I’m not most guys.”
“Good point.” Jason chuckles.
“I’ll let you get back to sleep.”
“Good luck!”
I can practically hear him smiling through the phone. He thinks it’s hilarious that I have to do this.
“Ladies, come in.” Kelly leads the girls onto the steps that have been set up at the end of the room.
