Be My Babygirl

Miranda hands me a phone. I take it in my shaking fingers, bring it up to my ear. As I do, the camera pans to the reporter.

She’s holding a cell in her hand, too.

I hear her voice come over the television as well as the speaker by my ear. “Hello, Katie? This is Ms. Carmichael, correspondent for Your Info Today. We’re live, here in Georgia on the tarmac of Mr. Morrow’s private jet. This story is on every local news channel from the East Coast to the West Coast. Awfully brave of this man, isn’t it, to propose in front of so many?”

My answer is a choked laugh.

She smiles at the camera. “So what will it be, Katie? Do you accept his proposal?”

I’m nodding my head frantically, but the words don’t come. Miranda gives me a sharp poke in the ribs, whispering, “Say something, Katie. They can’t see you nodding your head.”

“Yes! Yes! Oh, Darius. Yes.”

Like a loon, I hold the phone to my lips, kissing the screen.

Elation fills his face, the lines disappear. He rises from the ground, true joy in his smile. From his pocket he takes out a familiar red box, flipping open the lid.

It’s my ring.

The very one I’d sent back to his house in the package with every other thing he’d ever given me. I thought I’d never see it again.

He stares into the camera. “Katie, please meet me at Opulence, tonight, and let me put this ring back on your finger, where it belongs.”

A squeal bursts forth from my lips, Ms. Carmichael holds the phone as far away from her as she can, wincing at my outburst. “You heard it here first, folks. It looks like Vegas, Baby is going to have a queen to match its king. Mr. Morrow and future Mrs. Morrow, we wish you all the luck in the world with your fairytale happy ending.”

The screen cuts to commercial.

Miranda picks up the remote flipping the television off. “That’s the one button I can work.”

I want to grab her, to hug her and twirl, and jump up and down, screaming for all the world to hear. I’m engaged! Like, for real.

But Miranda’s no-nonsense business mode kicks into full gear. Hands on her hips, she looks me up and down. “Congrats. Now, let’s get to work.”

After the breakup I went through, they have their work cut out for them. They wax every unwanted hair from my body, moisturize my skin, detangle and straighten my hair. Blush my cheeks and give me lashes and pretty nails. Then dress me in the most gorgeous pale pink gown.

My favorite color. He loves me in this color.

He loves me.

After a dozen reassuring compliments from my team, and a million thank yous from me to them, I’m ready to go.

I get into the waiting limo.

And head back home to him.Chapter 20DariusI pace the entryway to Opulence, aware that I have a team of bodyguards and security keeping reporters at bay. Maybe it was a strategic error announcing for all the world to hear where I wanted my Katie to meet me, but I wanted to make it better. I wanted to make this right.

I’m not usually a nervous guy, but this time… this time, my palms are sweaty and my heart trips a crazy beat in my chest.

What happens next?

And then she’s there. Standing in the doorway, her hair done up but a little crazy, like a gust of wind hit her on the way in, giving her a winsome, fetching look. Her lips are slightly parted, her eyes wide with wonder. She wears a pale pink gown that hugs her petite frame, and delicate silver flats.

“You look like a princess,” I say, my voice choked with emotion. I can’t move. I want to gather her in my arms and hold her to me. I want to kiss the flush on her cheeks and those pretty, full lips of hers. I want to weave my fingers through those masses of curls and tug her head back, claiming every inch of her.

Instead, I swallow, and beckon to her. “C’mere, baby.”

She trembles a little as she approaches me. I meet her halfway. And when she’s within arm’s reach, I pull her to me, hugging her to my chest as I’ve wanted. She smells like warmed vanilla and cinnamon, the comforts of home.

“You came back,” I whisper in her ear.

“I’m so sorry I ever left,” she whispers back.

“I shouldn’t have—”

“You were upset—”

We talk over each other like we did before, until we both laugh, and I hold her tightly.

“Hush,” I say. “It’s time to put this behind us.”

She nods into my chest. “I like the sound of that.”

I take her by the hand and lead her to our table. Pull out the chair for her, and she folds herself into the chair with grace.