We drive around the block. “I can’t wait to show my mother,” I say when we park and return to the apartment.
“I’m sure she’ll be right over,” he says as we settle onto the couch.
“Yes. Yes, she will. I better call her tomorrow.”
“Now it’s your turn,” I say, handing him my gift in a velvet box with a red bow, that’s not nearly as big as the one on the car.
His brows knit and he opens the box to display a black tungsten ring with diamonds around it.
“Look at the inscription,” I say, and Dash reads it out loud, “You save me every day.”
Dash looks at me with love in his eyes and slides the ring on before pulling me close. “And you, Allie, save me every day.”
***
The night of the auction, it snows, just tiny flutters that fade in the wind, but even that is a near miracle in Nashville in December. It feels as if Allison is here, blessing the good work we are trying to do. And we do exactly that: good work. The auction is wildly successful.
I stand in the event room in a silver gown I picked out for the occasion, with Dash looking brutally handsome in a tuxedo, and watch the final item close with elation in my heart.
A fan steps to Dash’s side and starts talking to him while Benjamin steps to my side. “Hi, Allie.”
“Hi,” I say, turning to face him. “How are you, Benjamin?”
“I wanted to apologize to you.”
I frown. “For what?”
“I knew Jack was a pervert. That’s why I said I wasn’t surprised when Allison left. He showed her too much attention. I should have warned you.”
“Thank you for saying that, but please don’t blame yourself.”
He shocks me by hugging me and then walking away. Dash steps to my side, “What was that?”
“It appears more people knew what Jack was like than I realized. He apologized for not warning me about him.”
Later that night, Dash and I open a bottle of expensive champagne as he finally signs a contract for both a television show and a movie deal. “Ghost will be happy,” I say.
“Even happier when he realizes I wrote in a woman for him in the next book.”
“You rewrote the book for him?”
“I wrote it before he even asked. I was inspired.” He drags me across his lap and cups my head. “By you, my little cupcake.”
I laugh and he kisses me, and this editor who’d soured on happily ever after stories, now believes in them once again.
EPILOGUE
On New Year’s Eve, Dash and I stay home, drink champagne, and watch the explosion of Nashville’s city lights below us. Bella, on the other hand, is with Tyler, which doesn’t please Dash, but he’s come to terms with the fact that he doesn’t control her life.
“Let’s talk about a wedding date and place,” Dash says, refilling my glass.
“How about here?”
“How about we buy a house on the outskirts of Nashville, something we pick together, and we can have it there?”
“And give up the apartment?”
“No, I say let’s keep it.”
“I like that. Can we have horses?” I ask, starting to get excited.
“We can,” he says. “Do you ride?”
“No. Do you?”
“A little. We’ll learn.”
“What about a dog?”
“We travel a lot.”
“Henry Cavil travels with his dog. He posts pictures on Instagram of his giant dog traveling with him all the time.”
He laughs. “If Henry Cavil does it, we can, too.”
I grin, and remember Queen Compton’s words, changing them just slightly to fit the moment. “Yes, we can. And then you can give Ghost a dog.”
He chuckles. “I don’t know about that one. What about a wedding date?”
“Next Christmas? No. The auction would need to move to a different date. It’s too close to the holidays. What about fall, when the leaves will be turning? Surely if we buy a house outside the city, it will be a perfect time of year. October?”
“I like it,” he says. “October it is. I’ll call a realtor next week.”
It’s almost midnight and Dash motions to my glass. “Let’s countdown.”
And so, we do. We countdown and then we kiss in the first moment of the year we will become Mr. and Mrs. Dash Black.
***
It’s late January and I’ve managed to work out all the details to work for Riptide as a contractor for Hawk Legal. I also work from home as I please, which is about half-time. Bella has continued to see Tyler, and under her influence, he’s softened, become even more human.
One Friday evening, Tyler appears in my doorway. “I’m ready.”
I don’t have to ask for what. He means the journals. “I’ll send you a Dropbox link.”
“I’m going to hold a memorial service for her. I thought maybe I’d pick a few words in her own voice to read. Maybe you can help me pick something out that isn’t about me being an asshole.”