Loverboy (The Company #2) - Sarina Bowen Page 0,112
write a piece of software that translates the lightbulb’s wiggles into an audible recording of the distant conversation.”
“Yikes,” I say as the waiter approaches.
“Evening, ma’am,” he says. “Can I bring you a drink to start?”
“Why yes! Someone told me that you guys make an excellent margarita.”
The waiter flashes me his own tip jar smile. “That’s absolutely correct. I recommend the Conmemorativo margarita on the rocks. Would you care for salt?”
“Yes please,” I say easily. He takes Gunnar’s order, too, before walking away.
“He upsold you on the tequila with that smile,” Gunnar says, crossing his arms. “You were putty in his hands.”
“Does his technique make you jealous?” I whisper.
“Not in the least.” He gives me a warm smile. “Thank you for coming out with me tonight.”
“You know me. I’m easy.” Although, to be honest, I still have a mild case of PTSD from the last time a man made a reservation for an expensive meal and then told me he wanted to discuss his plans. “I don’t know why you picked this place, though. Did you want to tell me something about the hunt for you know who?”
Gunnar shakes his head. “No way. We’re here for the magical view of my new favorite city. And for the margaritas.”
I beam, because Gunnar isn’t really kidding about loving New York. He’s thrown himself into some new projects at work, and we’ve been dining our way across Manhattan.
“There’s three things I want to discuss with you.”
“Three?”
He reaches across the table and covers my hand with his. “Can I just say upfront that none of them involves opening our relationship? Don’t panic, okay?”
“Who’s panicking?”
He grins.
“I guess I’m not that good an actor.”
“You know why we used to bicker behind the bar?” he asks, squeezing my hand.
“Because you were a slick, overconfident know-it-all?”
“No.” Gunnar laughs. “Because we’re so much alike. We both like to be in control of every situation. And it freaks us out when we can’t be.”
“Fair enough. Drop your bombs already. I don’t like mysteries.”
He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a small envelope. Inside are two tickets. “Check this out. I just received them today.” He holds them near the candle flickering on the table, so that I can read the print.
Mets vs. Rockies. July 17th. Mayor’s Executive Box Seats.
I gasp. “That’s your birthday.”
“It is. We’re both invited.”
“Will he be there?” I have to ask.
“Yes, actually. I asked the same thing.”
We both crack up. The mayor has reached out to Gunnar a number of times these last few months. He’s asked him to lunch and he even introduced him to his other two grown children. Gunnar said the first meeting was awkward as hell. But now he and his half-brother play pool together every other Thursday at a divey billiards club in Alphabet City. “It turns out that my half-brother doesn’t like rich guy games very much either,” he’s told me. “Go figure.”
“Well, that’s fun. I’d love to go to the baseball game with you. What else do you want to tell me?”
The waiter turns up again with our drinks, though. And then we order dinner. So it’s a few minutes before we’re alone again.
“Look,” Gunnar says, still holding my hand. “I’ve been waiting for this.”
The sky is a brilliant shade of pink, and all of New York looks like a fairy tale. “It’s beautiful. But what does that have to do with—” I catch sight of Gunnar’s free hand, and the little velvet box he’s holding. “Oh my.”
“Posy,” he says. “I brought you up to this rooftop so you’d know that I’ve really come around on my feelings about New York. I’m happy to stay here forever, so long as you’re by my side. Will you be my wife?” He opens the box with his thumb, and there’s a beautiful emerald cut diamond ring inside.
I’m literally speechless. If you’d asked me a year ago whether I’d ever marry again, I would have laughed in your face.
But nobody’s laughing now.
“Yes,” I gasp. “Wow. I didn’t see that coming.”
He smiles, removing the ring from the box. “Try this on, then. Let me know what you think. I know you have very strong feelings about the way you like things to be.”
“You’re just teasing me now,” I say with a giggle. “It’s beautiful.”
“I know you’ve done this before, though,” he hedges. “I don’t know what the other one looked like. I stood in that store and worried that I was going to choose something that reminded you of him.”