My father smiled over at me. I couldn’t tell 100 percent, but he seemed like he might know something.
Is he in on it?
Sebastian might have asked his permission.
Birdie was skipping down the hall next to Sebastian as they returned to the living room. Sebastian carried a box wrapped in shiny red paper with an elaborate gold bow.
He took a seat next to me before handing it over. “We thought long and hard about what to get someone who means so very much to us. Ever since you walked in that door, our lives have been richer and full of joy. This gift represents our gratitude to you for being a part of our world. We love you.”
My hands shook as I worked to open the box.
Then my heart fell a little when I realized it wasn’t a ring. I closed my eyes, needing a moment to calm my nerves, because I had been so certain. I opened them. Then, when I caught sight of what it was and it registered, my emotions went from disappointment to complete awe.
Inside the box was an exact replica of the butterfly barrette that had led me to Sebastian’s doorstep that day, except it was encrusted in diamonds and hanging from a white-gold chain.
My mouth fell open. “I have no words.”
“I mentioned to Birdie that you told me how much you admired her barrette.” He winked at me, knowing full well that only he and I knew the full story about that barrette and how it had led me to the dog-training gig.
He continued. “We took to it a jeweler and asked him if he could replicate it in diamonds. I think it came out perfect. I hope you love it.”
Getting choked up, I said, “Are you kidding? This is the most thoughtful, heartfelt, stunning present anyone has ever given me in my entire life.”
After I hugged each of them tightly, Sebastian took the necklace out of the box.
“Let’s put it on you.”
The feel of Sebastian’s hands on my skin sent a shiver down my spine as he placed the necklace around my neck.
My dad smiled from ear to ear. “Looks beautiful, pumpkin.”
Birdie’s eyes were wide as she took in the bauble. “Now you can think of me every time you wear it.”
I hugged her again and said, “Honey, I don’t need a necklace to think about you. You’re always on my mind. But I will cherish this so much. It means more to me than you could ever know.”
There ended up being no ring in sight that Christmas. And that was just fine by me. I’d rather Sebastian not rush into such an important decision. Was I a little disappointed? Sure. But I still felt like the luckiest woman on the planet.CHAPTER 31
SEBASTIAN
“Marmaduke, look at me.”
The dog raced around the room, his paws scratching against the hardwood floor.
“Stop, you horse!”
He continued to scurry. I then remembered the German command for “stay.”
“Bleib!”
That worked. He stopped in front of me.
“Show me what you did with it.”
Ruff!
I held out the mangled, empty box and pointed inside. “What did you do with the ring?”
Ruff!
If the past few days were a movie, they would have been dubbed: The Year the Dog Ruined Christmas.
The morning of Christmas Eve, I’d been standing in front of the mirror in my room, practicing all the poignant words I would recite when I got down on one knee and asked Sadie to be my wife. I hadn’t been sure when exactly I was going to pop the question—either it was going to be Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. I only knew it was going to be at some point during those two days, when the moment felt right.
Birdie knew everything and had planned her own little speech to recite to Sadie when we proposed. With Sadie’s father in town to witness it all, it was supposed to be epic. That is, until I decided to leave the ring on my end table while I took a shower. When I emerged from the bathroom, the box was gone.
There was no one else to blame but the Duke. He was the only one home at the time and he’d been in and out of my room moments before my shower.
I ended up having to tell Birdie. She and I’d spent the entire day scouring the house for the ring box. We finally found it—empty. Our dog had lost a $20,000 Tiffany diamond.
I supposed I could’ve still proposed without it. But I’d wanted everything to be perfect, and without a ring, well, that would have pretty much sucked. Thank God I’d also had the idea to have that pendant designed, because at least I had something to give Sadie. What a nightmare.
So here I was, the day after Christmas, with no ring, just a crushed empty box, and I was talking to the dog expecting an answer like a lunatic—as if I could somehow negotiate with him to tell me what he’d done with it.