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I rush toward the bedroom, heading directly for the closet and throwing it open.
“What does one wear to dinner at the restaurant below the Eiffel Tower to accept a marriage proposal?”
“A what!?!?” two of the most important people in my life screech through the line, causing me to giggle.
“I’m getting married!” I yell, finding the perfect red knee-length dress with a scoop neckline hanging in the closet with red kitten heel peep-toe shoes nestled below them.
I have a sneaking suspicion I have Giselle to thank for this, but that’s a problem for another day.
“I have to call the girls!” Maya screams.
My mom shushes her loudly.“Not without your father and me, you aren’t! Charlotte Anne, you’d better make that man wait until we can get there. My baby girl only gets married once.”
“Okay, Momma. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what the plans are.”
“I love you, Charlotte.”
“I love you too, Mom. And thank you.”
I hang up the phone and trade it for the dress and shoes.
“Time to make all my dreams come true,” I say into the empty room before spinning on my heels and heading into the bathroom.
I shower quickly, shaving and buffing all the important areas before giving my hair a fluff and getting dressed. I slide the gorgeous ring he left for me onto my ring finger, where it will sit for all eternity, and with one final check in the mirror, I head for the door.
I only have twenty minutes to make it to the restaurant. I just hope that Bryce hasn’t given up on us yet, because I haven’t.
I hit the button of the elevator, bouncing on the balls of my feet and praying that there is a taxi or something waiting for me when I get downstairs.
“Please don’t let me miss him,” I pray into the hallway as the door opens.
I rush inside, hitting the down button and counting the three floors until it reaches the bottom. I haven’t done much exploring, but apparently Bryce owns this entire building. He’s converted the entire top floor to a living space and has a few business meeting areas connected to his own private kitchen, choosing to create his culinary masterpieces hidden away from the world and in peace.
As soon as the elevator opens, I smile.
“I was worried I was going to have to come upstairs and drag you to the restaurant,” Giselle scolds as she pushes the entrance door open and leads me toward the car waiting to take me to Bryce.
“Thank you. For everything,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her.
“Don’t hurt him, or you’ll have me to deal with.”
“I won’t.” I quickly release her and climb into the waiting car.
The drive seems as if it takes forever, but it probably doesn’t take longer than a few minutes before the Eiffel Tower comes into view, shining brightly against the Paris skyline.
“Thank you!” I shout to the driver, not even waiting until we come to a stop before climbing out of the car and run toward the restaurant.
Tears blur my vision as I weave my way through people stopping to enjoy the scenery, but none of that matters to me. I want nothing more than to see Bryce again and tell him how much I love him.
I come to a dead stop a few feet from the restaurant to catch my breath, scanning the entire area for Bryce, when I spot him. He’s seated on a bench right by the restaurant, one foot resting on his knee, with his crisp white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and his head tilted toward the sky.
I move toward him, my eyes locked on him and taking in his every feature. His dirty blond hair is tussled perfectly and swaying in the breeze, and my hand itches to run through it.
“You’re here,” I whisper, coming to stop a few steps away from him.
A mixture of fear and joy fills me as I worry I’m too late. His eyes snap to mine, scanning down my body before focusing in on the ring he gave me.
“Are you ready to answer my question?” A blinding smile spreads across his face as he stands and strides toward me. “I really need to hear you say the words.”
