Calliope nods. “Thank you for that.”
“No, thank you,” Graham interjects. “We’ve already picked out a spot for it in our home.”
Champ glances at me, and almost instantly her cheeks blush pink. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I repeat back. “It’s about time to shut this party down.”
Our agreement with the gallery was to clear out by midnight. Tomorrow, I’ll help Calliope package all the photographs that sold tonight for delivery, and we’ll display a host of new ones. The space is hers for a month.
“I’m ready to go home,” she says. “Are you?”
“I’m ready.”
I’m ready to take her home and drop to one knee to ask her to spend the rest of her life with me.
“I’m so fucking excited about the winter campaign.” Calliope shoots me a look as we ride the elevator up to our floor. “Tonight, Delora told me that Decky approved the print ads and the new billboard concept for Times Square.”
That bastard.
I wanted to be the one to put that smile on her face. Of course, my brother would step into the role of superhero before I had the chance.
He also bought up one of Champ’s photos tonight and commissioned one of our parents’ townhouse as an anniversary gift for them.
When I told him I was popping the question, he promised me that he’d be the best brother-in-law in town. He’s already living up to that.
“I approved them too,” I say as we step off the lift on our floor.
“I know.” She shoots me a look. “A new model each month will grab a lot more attention, not that your half-naked body hasn’t accomplished that.”
I let out a low chuckle.
She shoots me a smile. “I’m just thrilled that my idea took root, and soon I’ll see it all come to fruition.”
I stop her from stepping forward by grabbing hold of her elbow. “I’m proud of you. I’m so damn proud of you.”
“Thank you,” she whispers. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of anyone else, but with the sales tonight and the promised commissions for custom photos, I’m free, Sean.”
Her ex hasn’t tried to reach out since our altercation in the lobby of his building. That’s been a relief for my love, but having that debt in her rear view mirror finally puts her past to rest forever.
I swallow back a rush of emotion. “Let’s take this to the roof to celebrate.”
Her gaze drops to one of the pockets of the suit jacket I’m wearing. I went with a dark blue three-piece to compliment the light blue dress she’s wearing.
She takes a half-step closer to me. Her bottom lip quivers before she digs her top teeth into it to still it. “Are you going to ask me to marry you tonight?”
I see no reason to lie, so I nod. “I am.”
“I’m going to say yes,” she whispers.
In that case, why waste another goddamn minute?
I drop to one knee and tug the ring box out of my pocket. I pop open the lid. I picked up the ring the day after we passed the window of a jewelry store called Whispers of Grace in SoHo. Calliope stared at the one-of-kind custom ring. The very next day, I went back and scooped it up. The designer and owner of the store, Ivy Walker-Marlow, told me how she’d come to envision the unique design that includes a circle of small pink diamonds around the larger stone in the center. The glow of the sunset as it enveloped the city inspired her. That was all I needed to hear to know this ring was created for my love.
Calliope lets out the tiniest gasp.
I stare up and into her eyes. “Before we met, I thought my life was complete, but then you charged into it. You are the strongest person I’ve ever met. Your fearlessness knows no bounds. You taught me how to love, cherish, and trust in someone. I will do everything within my power to be the partner you deserve. I will stand by your side and be blown away each and every day by your beauty and your capacity to love.”
“I love you,” she whispers. “I love you so much.”
“Marry me, Calliope. Honor me by becoming my wife, and I vow never to let you down. I will do everything in my power to make you the happiest woman on this earth, and I will love you until I die.”
“I will.” She holds out her left hand. “I will marry you.”
I slide the ring on her finger, stand, and scoop the woman of my dreams into my arms.