alterations and plot world domination or whatever it is you do for your weekly stich-and-bitches. Just don’t tell me; I need plausible deniability. There’s an afterschool sports center, and a day-care center for low and moderate income families. There’s also a paintball range where Jorge and his friends will doubtless be spending a lot of time, because I’m an idiot and I’m actually moving him up from water pistols to even more destructive toys. Ariel’s going to work at the daycare center part time.”
There’s a passion in his voice and a fire in his eyes that I haven’t seen in a long time. He’s grinning from ear to ear as he talks and gestures. “By the way, I’m looking for a chief merchandising officer for Hudson’s Second Act. Someone with an eye for fresh, quirky fashion and a nose for bargains. Do you know anybody who might fit the bill?”
I’m trying to answer him, but tears flood my eyes. This is everything I could have wanted. My dream job and my dream man, wrapped up together in a package that fulfills me to the depths of my soul.
“Are those happy tears? Please tell me those are happy tears,” he begs.
“They are very, very happy tears. But if you’re turning your home into a department store, where will you live? You’re not kicking Marta out of the servants’ house, are you?”
“Of course not,” he says with amusement. “There are some very nice apartments available in Hell’s Kitchen. Dog-friendly apartments. Four bedrooms, because I’m a little bit spoiled and also I’m thinking one of the bedrooms could be used as a sewing room. Xena and I are looking for a roommate. I’ve got a very rigorous application process, though.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me up against him.
“Pshaw. I’m not filling out an application, I have shaky credit and no references, and my hair products will take up three-quarters of the bathroom space. I also require silence before seven a.m., and rumor has it I snore. Lightly.” I tip my head back and grin up at him.
He leans down and kisses me with those pillow-soft lips, then pulls back and grins too.
“Looks like I found my new roommate-slash-fiancée. I know I haven’t officially asked you yet, but I also know you don’t like surprises, so just know that there’s a proposal in your near future. Your parents will be there. Oh, and? Regarding your snoring. There’s nothing ‘lightly’ about it.”
I’d smack him for that last one, but he bends down to kiss me again, which means I’m temporarily distracted.
“Whooo! There she is!” A shout catches my attention, and I swivel around to see Isabella, Clarita, Jemma, and Edna making their way towards me.
“Did you ask her yet?” Edna demands as soon as they reach us.
“Edna! A little patience,” Clarita chides her. She’s blinged out the sides of her wheelchair with rhinestones that make up the Puerto Rican flag.
“Her mom wanted to know,” Edna says impatiently. “I’m supposed to call her if the answer’s yes.”
I huff a breath of exasperation. “I am pre-engaged, he’s going to ask me soon, my mom already knows that, and when you call her, tell her to stop marriage-stalking me.”
I grab my friends and hug them one by one. God, I’ve missed these guys.
“Presents are in the car.” I gesture at the limo. We have gifts for everyone. Blake actually got Jorge a French water pistol. Yes, they have those.
“Well, of course,” Isabella says. “You’d better have gotten me something fancy, too. My honey was hoping for some trampy lingerie. For me,” she adds hastily.
“Sure, for you.” I smirk at her. I did indeed get her smutty lingerie. I bought art supplies for Clarita, a porcelain statuette of a shepherdess for Edna, and some bootleg vinyl of an obscure French punk band for Jemma.
Blake gestures at his house. “Let’s head to the kitchen, which is mine for a little while longer before it’s converted to dressing rooms,” he says. “I’ve got champagne waiting for us, and I want to toast the Kitchen Krew. May you continue to cook up mischief for the rest of your days.”
Thank you so much for hanging out with Winona, Blake and the Kitchen Krew! I hope you had as much fun with them as I did!
And if you like small town hijinks, snarky billionaires, and fed up assistants, be sure to check out “A Billion Times No”, the first in my hilarious “Fake It Till You Make It” series.