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“Zoe!” Jaz calls out as soon as we step into the shop. She and Zoe have always been super close—they bonded day one in our dorm over their three-letter names, and became inseparable shortly after, despite the vast difference in their career paths. She immediately goes behind the counter, giving Zoe a brisk hug, before turning back to look at me. “I hear you have a special order for Charlotte.”
“I do.” Zoe grins, tucking the pin between her teeth back into the cushion on the counter. “I’ll go grab it.”
A few minutes later, she emerges with my dress. It’s absolutely stunning—a form-fitting, knee length creation of cranberry-red velvet, with thin straps and a slit up each side that goes to mid-thigh. The neck is cut into a low scoop that reaches an inch below my breasts, reinforced with inner corsetry so that they’ll be supported, with just the sides and a little bit of the lower curve showing.
Jaz whistles. “If he wasn’t already going to propose, he will when he sees you in that. Ring or no ring. Damn, Charlotte, that might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever bought.” She looks pointedly at my outfit for work today, which is pretty similar to what I wear most days. A pair of dark slim-cut jeans, a button down shirt in varying colors and patterns, and sensible shoes. Today it was the leather mules with a heel just a little higher than usual. That turned out to be a mistake.
Getting out of my comfort zone usually does.
“I was surprised, too,” Zoe says with a grin. “But if you’re going to pick any night to go all out like this, this is the one. Five years together and Alinea? Girl.” She zips the dress into a sleek black garment bag with Velvet Luxe printed on the top, and hands it to me. “He’s going to have to pick his jaw up off the floor when he sees you.” She twirls a dark ringlet that came loose from the messy bun atop her head. “Do some big curls tonight—old Hollywood style. Lipstick to match the dress—” She kisses the tips of her fingers dramatically. “Perfection.”
That smile spreads across my face again, and I don’t even bother trying to fight it. “I’ll take a picture and send it to the group chat,” I promise. “And now—” I wince, looking at my watch. “Shit, I have to go. I’m running five minutes behind.”
Zoe rolls her eyes. “You and your schedules.” She looks at Jaz. “You wanna hang for a minute? We could go get tapas. I don’t have anywhere to be tonight.”
“That sounds great.” Jaz wiggles her fingers at me. “Have fun, Charlotte. Send pics. Of the dress and the ring,” she adds with a wink.
I laugh, waving at them both as I call a second Uber, and hurry out to the curb.
I’m not actually sure that Nate is going to propose, for all that I’ve gossiped about the possibilities with my friends. We haven’t talked about it much, outside of a few conversations where we discussed if it was ‘time,’ based on how long we’ve been together. We’ve had all those talks about how we line up on various things, though—not directly saying the words do we want to get married, but discussing all the things that need to be talked through before promising to spend the rest of our lives with each other.
And we agree on those things. We both want to stay in Chicago, living downtown until our mid-thirties, when we’ll look into buying a house in the suburbs. We agree on kids—we’d be okay if we didn’t have them, but are open to the idea of one, no more than two. We both abhor debt and pay our credit cards in full every month. We agree on the places we want to travel to most—Spain, Japan, and England, in that order. Public schools over private, so our kids don’t grow up to be snobs. We both value our alone time, and our time with our friends. And if he has any issues with our sex life, vanilla as it is, he’s never said anything. He seems satisfied, and I?—
I have to admit, I’m curious about what Jaz was about to say in the car, on the ride over to Velvet Luxe. I can’t believe that she’s really ever experienced anything as crazy as the kinds of things that show up in fiction. I don’t believe that’s real—I’ve never known anyone who experienced it. If my friends’ dating life is anything to go by, I’m lucky that Nate usually goes down on me just about every time—even if it’s usually only for a few seconds and never does all that much for me. But I think that’s on me, not him. I’ve never really been all that sensitive. Toys work well for me—but I’ve never found a man who really lights me on fire by touching me.
I just don’t think that’s reality.
Nate isn’t home yet when I get up to our shared condo. I toss my keys in the porcelain bowl on the entry table, carrying the garment bag down the hall to our bedroom. It’s neat as a pin, as always, decorated minimally, with the modern aesthetic we both like. A platform bed, two rosewood nightstands with black iron touches, and a matching rosewood dresser, a large television mounted on the wall above it. There’s a dark grey ottoman at the foot of the bed that matches the dark grey bedding, and I lay the garment bag down on it, kicking my shoes off as I pad across the hardwood floor to the closet.
I have a pair of heels that will be perfect for this dress, but I never wear them. They’re buried somewhere in the back of the closet, and I reach up to push a stack of Nate’s weekend chinos aside to see if the box got shoved behind them, only to almost be hit in the head by something that comes tumbling off the shelf.
I catch it reflexively, feeling the velvet texture against my palm. My heart trips in my chest, and I look down at the small box in my hand.
He’s actually going to propose. My pulse kicks up another notch. This is good, right? This is what I want.
I shouldn’t open it, I know that. I should let it be a surprise. But I’m curious, and I nudge the seam of it with my thumb, opening the box a fraction before letting it close again.
What if it’s not a ring? I reason, staring down at it. What if it’s—earrings, or something? That would be a good reason to look—if I think it’s one thing and it turns out to be something else, I might seem disappointed. I don’t want Nate to think I’m unhappy with my gift, just because I thought it was a ring.
He’s also going to be home any second, so I have to make up my mind. Actually, he should have been home already—but he works late fairly often. Today of all days, though, I thought he would be on time.
Taking a deep breath, I flip open the top of the box, and my eyes go wide.
It is an engagement ring. An absolutely stunning one. The center diamond is pear-shaped and an exquisite quality, sparkling brilliantly even in just the light of our bedroom. There’s three small round diamonds on either side of it, and it’s set in yellow gold. Classic, with a unique twist. Exactly the style I showed him the one time that we did talk about rings, a little over a year ago.
It’s perfect. My breathe catches in my throat, and I feel my heart racing in my chest, nervousness prickling over my skin.
Nervous—excitement. Yes. Excitement. It’s a big step forward, one of the biggest we’ll make, so of course I feel some apprehension too, but?—
The sound of the front door closing almost makes me jump out of my skin. I close the box hurriedly, shoving it back behind the stack of chinos as I grab the shoebox out of the closet—at the very back, where I thought it might be—and close the closet door just in time to hear Nate’s footsteps stop outside the bedroom.
He walks in a moment later. He looks as handsome as always—the picture of the clean-cut, all-American lawyer. Perfect charcoal grey suit, swept back dark brown hair, clean-shaven jaw. He sets down his messenger bag by the dresser, and smiles at me. “How long before you’re ready to go?”
“Forty-five minutes? Plenty of time before our reservation.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” He chuckles, walking past me to drop a kiss on my cheek as he shrugs out of his jacket. “I’ll change once you’re done, it won’t take me long. I might go fix myself a pre-dinner drink.”
“I’ll save myself for the wine pairings.” I grin at him, carrying the garment bag into the bathroom. I can hear Nate just outside the door, getting out of his work clothes. “Don’t forget, I have something special planned for you tomorrow, too.”
