and reaches for my hand.
“Yes!” I finally splutter, “Yes, Stephen, yes!”
His face breaks into a grin and he slips the ring on my finger. The cameras rush in for a better view before he scoops me up into his arms, pulling me close for a kiss.
“I love you,” I whisper softly, and he smiles.
“I love you, too.”
I hear a cork pop, and Paulie screaming from beyond.
“You’re getting married!” he shrieks, and I look to see him rushing over with champagne. “Of course, I’ll be your man of honor, thank you for asking!” I shake my head and laugh. “We have to celebrate!” Paulie squeezes past the camera crew, blowing a kiss to the lens.
“There’s still cake in here!” he sings. “We’ve got cheesecake! Chocolate, or strawberry?”
Stephen and I turn toward each other, grinning from ear to ear.
“Strawberry,” we say in unison, before he turns to the camera.
“And that’s a wrap, folks.”
Fifty
Cynthia
“Hold the line,” I shout playfully to the kitchen group.
“Sì, chef!” they reply, and wish me well as I leave for the day. I wave goodbye to my front of house and walk out into the open air.
I fucking love this city. My folks are even willing to visit as often as they can. Manhattan was too far, of course, but Rome is a hop, skip, and a jump.
I decide to walk home today, enjoying the sights and sounds of the city. It’s been a year since Into the Fire premiered and ended, and I’ve never been so wealthy in my life. The buzz from the TV show set me skyrocketing. I’ve completely cut free of any need for my shaky inheritance.
Not that it’s particularly shaky anymore. My parents adore Stephen, and Zsa Zsa flies free. I pass one of the beautiful fountains, and watch a young couple throw their coins in. I smile and pick up my pace. I can’t wait to get home to my husband.
I take a moment to gaze at my ring as it winks in the sunlight. It seems like a lifetime ago that I was unhappy, losing my mind on the TV show, and cowering from my parents and that idiot Kyle. He’s in jail now, by the way, good riddance.
My mother wrote to tell me he showed up at the country club’s tennis courts inebriated, stripping his clothes and picking a fight with a club regular, Conor McGregor. He’s completely disgraced himself. Thank goodness you got out of there when you did! Oh, now she sides with me.
I arrive at our villa, and pass through the gate, rushing up the steps. Stephen ought to have beaten me home. He was on set this morning for his new show. I’ve never seen him happier. After shaking off his old contracts, he’s completely thriving, returning to cooking and learning how to say ‘fuck you’ in Italian.
Tonight is going to be particularly special.
“Honey?” I call as I open the door. I don’t hear him, so I throw down my things and head for our secluded pool and patio.
“Stephen?” I call as I step outside. I find him lounging, reading a book by the water and soaking up the last rays of the late afternoon sun.
His face lights up when he sees me, and he chucks the book behind him, getting up to greet me. He slides his hands around my waist, and we kiss like we haven’t seen each other in weeks.
“How’s Rome’s favorite restaurant?” Stephen asks, and I laugh.
“It’s in good hands for the night. I needed to get home to my sexy husband.”
My restaurant in Rome is booming, and it takes weeks for anyone to get a reservation. I have a wonderful crew, and worked hard to build a well-oiled machine that could run on its own. I want to be able to get away for moments just like this.
Stephen starts to play with the buttons of my dress, popping them out of their slits one by one, before his lips meet my neck. I breathe in sharply, inhaling his scent and the smell of the cypress tree leaning into the courtyard.
“I’ve got something to tell you,” I whisper as he slips his hand inside my shirt.
“Is it important?” he moans as he strips my dress off my shoulder blades.
“I think you’ll like it,” I giggle, and he finally pulls his face from my neck. He looks at me expectantly, his eyes glazed over with want. I take his hands and lay them on my breasts. He raises an eyebrow, but I push them