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"You were a rock star in there," I praise her. "Seriously. Such good work."
She gives me a little smile. "Thanks. It's actually harder than I thought it would be."
"You're still in, though. Right?"
She wrinkles her nose at me. "I'm still in."
"Good. Because I want you to prepare yourself for the next step."
Pearl smirks at me. "The part where you announce that we are secretly engaged?"
We head down some stairs, Pearl's high heels clicking with every step. "Something like that."
I usher her through a security checkpoint and down another long concrete hallway. When we get to the end, a suited man greets me. "Hello, Mr. Taylor. Nice to see you."
"This is my girlfriend, Pearl," I say by way of introduction. "Pearl, this is Dave Fourtier. He's going to show us onto the field as soon as the players clear off for their break."
"Nice to meet you," she says. She grabs my hand, taking me by surprise. I give her a quiet smile.
"The teams are clearing off now," Dave says, looking out at the field. "Let's give them one more minute before we head out."
Pearl squints at him, frowning. She can sense that something is off. She just doesn't know what.
"Okay. Now you can go out to the pitcher's mound for a photo if you'd like to," Dave offers.
I raise my brows at Pearl, tugging her hand. "Maybe we'll just head out to the dugout for our photo op? I don't want you to trip and die in those heels."
She laughs and nods. "I would appreciate that."
Making sure that she has a good grip on my arm, I walk Pearl out onto the field. There are a few other people on the field too: two maintenance workers groom the grass, a group of Japanese tourists looks at the whole stadium with wide eyes, and an elderly couple are escorted by a young player from the opposing team.
I walk Pearl to the home plate and then stand back, looking up at the sea of fans. It's pretty overwhelming if I spend too much time thinking about it.
Dave follows dutifully, holding a large camera. He snaps a few candid pictures and then calls to us. "Are you ready?"
A lump forms in my throat. I grab Pearl's hand, stand back, and sink down on one knee.
She looks at me, as still as petrified wood.
"Pearl. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"
Every ounce of blood floods into her face. She locks eyes with me, her expression hard and terrified. "Y-yes?" she squeaks.
I slide the ring from my pocket, put it on her finger, and then stand up. I raise her hand, showing it to the stadium. A cheer rises and the speakers blare the first few notes of the wedding march. "Ladies and gentlemen, she said yes!"
I pull her into my grasp and then kiss her passionately.
When I pull back, she is staring daggers at me.
“What the hell was that!” she demands in a rough whisper.
Putting her hand on my arm and waving to the crowd like a politician, I say, “That was putting on a show. Trust me, my parents definitely saw.”
Pearl digs her fingers into my arms and forces a bright smile to her lips.
“So did everybody else. That includes my family.” She leans her head down to my shoulder, hugging me, and whispers, “You should have told me about your plan!”
My heart skips a beat. Is Pearl actually mad? I didn’t really consider her when I put this plan in motion. “Can we talk about this when we’re alone?” I hiss.
