Page 133 of Bound To Be Mine

After the facials, we moved to the massage room. I nearly fell asleep on the table, the combination of skilled hands and lavender oil working magic on my perpetually tense shoulders.

“I could do this every day,” I mumbled into the face cradle.

“Right?” Elizabeth’s voice came from somewhere to my left. “This is the most relaxed I’ve been in weeks.”

By the time we finished with massages and moved on to getting our nails done, I felt like a completely different person. Loose and relaxed in a way I hadn’t been since Vegas, probably. Though that had been tequila-induced relaxation, which didn’t really count.

We got manis and pedis. I went with a deep purple color that made me feel like a royal.

“Hair time,” Elizabeth said.

We moved to the salon section of the spa. I was pretty sure I saw an A-lister sitting in the chair. I had to remember I was sitting with Blackwell women. They were famous in their own right. And then I remembered I was a Blackwell woman. Even I was still trying to get my head around that idea.

The hairstylist worked on my hair, blow-drying and curling until I had these perfect, bouncy waves that looked effortlessly chic. I watched in the mirror as Elizabeth and Bernadette got similar treatments, all of us transforming from tired, stressed women into polished, glamorous versions of ourselves.

“We look good,” Bernadette said, admiring her reflection.

“We look amazing,” I corrected. “Like we’re about to conquer the world or walk a red carpet. I feel all dressed up with nowhere to go.”

“Actually, we aren’t done yet. We are going somewhere fancy for dinner.”

“Yeah?”

My first thought was I should text Briggs and let him know. I didn’t want to stand him up if he was making dinner for us.

“Yep, I made reservations,” Elizabeth said. “Don’t worry, Briggs knows you’ll be out late.”

I looked between her and Bernadette. I felt like there was something more, but they weren’t saying anything.

We piled into the hired car. The driver seemed to know exactly where he was going without anyone giving him an address.

“Seriously, what’s happening?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” was all Elizabeth would say.

We pulled up in front of a restaurant I recognized. It was one of those places that required reservations months in advance and had a Michelin star. Or maybe three. I’d looked into it once for a client’s rehearsal dinner and nearly choked on the prices.

“This is fancy,” I said.

“Only the best,” Bernadette said, linking her arm through mine. “Come on.”

Inside, we were led through the main dining room, all white tablecloths and soft lighting. We were led back to a private room. My heart started beating faster. Something was definitely happening.

The door opened, and I saw them all. Adrian, Sebastian, Dash, and Callum. Cleo. Mimi was there.

And Briggs.

He stood in the center of the room looking nervous in a way I’d never seen him look nervous before. He was holding something out. A small box.

A turquoise ring box that every woman knew was Tiffany’s.

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

He smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I looked around the room with all these people I’d come to love, then back at him. “What’s happening?”

“Can you come here?” he asked.