The Design

  “Oh, yeah. It’s great. I’m heading back soon.”

  Lie. Lie. Lie.

  Grayson nodded, visibly impressed. “Wow. That’s good to hear.”

  “Yeah, I think I just fit in there.”

  “And how do you like the people? Do you have a guy you’re seeing?”

  A slideshow of terrible prospects flashed through my mind. There’d been the hobo who’d peed next to me on the subway, my bunkmate who thought bathing was optional, and a slew of French guys who thought that any American girl traveling abroad was down for an easy lay.

  “Oh, I’ve just been playing the field. Y’know, don’t want to tie myself down with anyone early on.”

  I peered over to see him smiling, a bit too smug for comfort.

  “What? Why are you smiling like that?” I asked.

  He corrected his features right away. “Oh, no. I’m just happy everything is working out so well for you. Seems like heading to Paris was the smartest decision you’ve ever made.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I agreed emphatically. “Definitely.”

  What was I saying? Why couldn’t I just tell him the truth? Why couldn’t I tell him that I’d majorly fucked up, that leaving him was the worst mistake I’d ever made?

  “So when do you head back?” he asked.

  Never. I had like $50 to my name.

  “Hmm, maybe in a few weeks. Brooklyn has missed me, so I don’t want to rush off.”

  He nodded and stared off in the distance, that same smile begging me to decipher his true intentions.

  “I’m sure you’re really anxious to get back. We must seem like uncivilized brutes compared to all of your French friends.”

  I lingered on his appearance: the sharp, regal features paired with his suit and cuff links. Grayson was anything but a brute.

  “Oui. Le chien a mangé le beignet.”

  His eyebrows rose. “See, you’re already fluent.”

  I smiled, completely unsure of what I’d just told him. Something like “The dog ate the donut.”

  “Do you have plans tomorrow morning or are you too busy planning your return trip?” he asked, shooting me a playful glance.

  “Tomorrow morning?” I confirmed.

  He wanted to see me again?

  He nodded.

  “Yeah. I think I have time. What do you have in mind?”

  He pushed himself up off the palette and reached for my hand.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The following morning, Grayson sped down the streets of LA while I tried my best not to spill my coffee all over his leather interior. I’d picked out a cream blouse that I hoped fell between “I STILL REALLY LOVE YOU, PLEASE NOTICE ME” and “Oh? This old thing?”, but neither message would matter if it was completely covered in coffee.

  Grayson hadn’t told me where we were going when he’d picked me up a few minutes earlier, so my curiosity was getting the better of me. Every time we turned a corner, I tried to decipher what landmarks we were near. Was he taking me to his place? Was he taking me to breakfast at a special restaurant?

  By the time he slowed his car to park, I was completely turned around. I knew we were somewhere north of downtown, but the buildings didn’t look familiar. They were old worn down industrial warehouses with caving roofs and garbage cluttering the ground around them.

  Wow. Very romantic, Grayson.

  “Do you recognize this address?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No?”

  He killed the engine and pocketed his keys.

  “Hop out really quick. I want you to see something.”

  I dropped my coffee into his car’s cup holder and trailed out after him. His gait was easily twice the length of mine, so I had to hurry to catch him. Just when I got close, he reached back for my hand, and like an old habit, I let him take hold. The desire to never let go was too much to handle.

  He pulled me after him as he circled the side of the building. We walked along the fence to the very front, where large gates blocked the entrance to the old abandoned warehouses. In front of the gates there was a large, wooden sign. I recognized the type of sign from various construction sites around LA. Usually the signs boasted future hotels or trendy eateries, but this sign was different. As I rounded to the front and Grayson let go of my hand, I realized why.

  It was a sign announcing the future site of a municipal park, and the design pictured below in full color?

  It was mine.

  “Your park design won the competition,” Grayson announced.

  My hands flew to my mouth. “You resubmitted it?”

  “I did,” he replied, moving to stand in front of me so that I’d be forced to look him in the eye. “But I promise you it will be the last time I ever interfere in your life without your permission.”

  “Are you kidding me?!”

  He half-smiled. “Are you mad? I can’t tell.”

  “Grayson! I WON THE COMPETITION. This is my design! They picked my design!”

  “Of course they did,” he nodded. “It was by far the best one and you had some stiff competition. You should have seen Alan's face.”

  I shook my head, trying to connect the puzzle pieces in my head.

  “But I thought we were disqualified? I thought both of our submissions were thrown out?”

  He nodded, stepping to the side so that I could see a glimpse of my design once again.

  “They were, but I had a meeting with the design committee and I requested that they trash the original Cole Designs submission and instead take your design into consideration. They weren’t happy about it, but when they saw your plan, they decided to bend the rules a little.”

  I shook my head in disbelief and then stepped up to the sign to get a closer look. The Cole Designs logo was printed at the very bottom, but above that, there was a small gold plaque.

  “The winning design for this municipal park project was contributed by:

  Cameron Heart, Associate Architect, Cole Designs.”

  “Holy shit,” I whispered as tears began to slide down my cheeks. The competition was open to every architecture firm in California. The committee must have received hundreds of submissions, yet my name was printed on the plaque. I’d won.

  “And before you ask,” Grayson said, stepping up to meet me in front of the sign. “I had no hand in who won the competition. The panel of judges had no clue who you were. They chose your design because it was the best. You won this on your own, Cammie. You’re a damn good architect and you deserve recognition for your work. Please know that anything I did to help you along the way was nothing compared to the things you managed to do all on your own.”

  I nodded and kept my hand pressed to my mouth in an attempt to conceal the fact that I was all but hysterical.

  “I can’t believe you did this,” I said, turning to wrap my arms around him.

  My face smashed against his chest, his cologne enveloped me, and he held me there as I cried tears of joy. Every single failure I’d endured in the last few months was nothing compared to that moment. Paris, Alan, Hannah—nothing mattered in that moment because I’d made it on my own. I was going to be the designer of a major multimillion-dollar park.

  “There is one thing… since you aren’t a licensed architect yet, I have to supervise the build, but I won’t make any decisions without you by my side.”

  I leaned back so I could meet his eye. “Does that mean I have my old job back?”

  He smiled. “I was actually thinking of something better,” he said and then he slowly slid down to the ground, holding his weight up on one knee.

  What? WHAT?

  “Grayson! What are you doing?!”

  “If you change your name to Cameron Cole, then that would technically make you a partner in my company, right?”

  “Grayson!” I exclaimed as he pulled a small, simple gold band from his pocket. It was delicate and thin, understated and unique.

  “I let you leave me once, Camm
ie. I let you leave and I had no choice but to watch you board that plane to Paris. I let you go because I thought that’s what you wanted, but now I’m going after what I want, and I want to marry you. I want you by my side in life and in business. You’re a visionary, Cameron. I admire your drive and tenacity. I admire your passion and determination. If you want to go back to Paris, we’ll go to Paris. We’ll live wherever you want, just as long as we’re together.”

  I laughed at the idea of us living in Paris, but Grayson took it the wrong way. His smile faded for a moment as he processed the fact that I’d just laughed at his proposal.

  “No! Grayson. Wait, not ‘no’ to the proposal. Yes! Yes, to that.”

  He smiled as I tried to unscramble my speech.

  “But no, we cannot live in Paris. We’ll stay in LA and we’ll oversee the building of my park. Paris held nothing for me without you there.”

  He grinned.

  “So is that a yes?”

  I laughed. “That’s a hell yes.”

  He slipped the delicate ring on my finger, stood up, and kissed me. I lifted up onto my tiptoes and wrapped my hands around his neck. It’d been two months too long since our last kiss. I’d been so wrong about leaving. I thought I needed to leave behind the people I depended on so that I could learn to stand on my two feet, but Grayson had proven to me that I could do it all on my own, right from where I was. Sure, Grayson would probably still try to be controlling and Brooklyn would always worry, but I’d tell them how I felt, we’d adjust, and they’d give me room to grow.

  After I managed to stop crying and my face was a little less blotchy, Grayson and I stood in front of the sign and snapped a photo of our smiling faces with my ring on full display.

  When we got back in the car, I stared down at the photo. It was hardly the best photo I’d ever taken, but I’d never seen myself look happier than I did right then. Grayson and I were wrapped around one another and our cheeks were crushed together so that our giant smiles were slightly lopsided. Since Grayson had attempted to snap the photo himself, our foreheads were, of course, cut off, but Grayson’s eyes were in focus and there were tears hovering in the corners. My cheeks were flushed and the wind had whipped my hair all over the place. I’m sure a photographer would have balked at the execution, but the emotion? The love? It was right there, plain to see.

  I attached the photo to a text message and sent it to Brooklyn with the caption: “I said yes!”

  She replied within seconds.

  Brooklyn: ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? DOUBLE WEDDING?????!!!

  Epilogue

  Amount saved for our wedding: $10,345 (which will cover like one-fourth of my dress. Ha, just kidding.). Grayson keeps trying to convince me to let him pay for the wedding, but I’ve insisted on paying for half. Clearly, I’m still working on convincing him that he doesn’t have to be in control of everything!

  Items I have: a beautiful strand of pearls my mother left me. I’ll wear them on my wedding day. For her.

  Items I need: DJ, caterer, photographer, officiant… basically everything. Oy vey.

  French phrases that I know: Mon fiancé a un mégot mignon… which translates to: “My fiancé has a cute butt.” ;)

  Amount saved for our house: $125,405. Wondering where that money came from? Grayson took most of my rent from over the years and invested it. When I found out, it of course sparked a heated argument between us, but in the end, I couldn’t hate him for wisely investing my money. He swore (under penalty of death) to never meddle like that again and I promised to use the money for our house, something we’d share.

  A few short months after my sister’s engagement party, I stood at the front of her wedding reception as the chatter started to die down. It was time for my maid of honor speech and my hands shook with nerves—no thanks to the little ensemble Brooklyn had surprised me with.

  “Some of you may be wondering why I’m standing up here wearing a sombrero and a clown nose." I spoke into the microphone so that all of my sister’s wedding guests could hear me. “Well, during a certain speech a few months ago, Grayson and I may have gone a bit off topic. In an effort to pay me back, my sister decided that we had to wear these fetching ensembles while delivering our speeches this time around.”

  I adjusted the bright pink sombrero so that it wouldn’t fall off.

  “Obviously her plan failed because she didn’t realize how killer I look in a sombrero.”

  The crowd laughed and I twisted my engagement ring around my finger, a habit I’d developed in the last few months.

  “As most of you know, my sister is older than me by a few years, and because of that, I’ve always looked up to her.” I scanned to where Brooklyn sat, looking like a freaking Disney princess in her wedding gown. Her blonde hair was twisted into a complicated up-do and her makeup was flawless as usual. “When I was little, I’d follow her and her friends around, listening in on their gossip and stealing their makeup whenever they weren’t looking. She put up with my antics and convinced her friends to let me hang around with them even though I could hardly keep up.”

  Brooklyn smile and pressed her hand over her heart.

  “As we got older, I continued to idolize her and she continued to be my greatest teacher. She taught me how to paint my nails, how to throw a curveball, and how to run from a doorstep after you've just egged a house. While those are skills every young girl should know, it wasn’t until our parents passed away that she was forced to step in and teach me the most important lesson of all. Brooklyn taught me how to grieve for our parents while still understanding that we had a lot of life left to live. She taught me that we couldn’t waste life just because they were gone—we had to honor their memories any way that we could.

  “I see Brooklyn honor the memory of our parents every day in the way she loves Jason. I watch the way she treats him, the small acts of love and kindness she bestows upon him every day, and I see my parents in them.”

  Brooklyn glanced toward Jason with tears brimming over in her eyes.

  “I know how it feels to be unconditionally loved by my sister, and I have to say, Jason, you are one lucky man.”

  “Here, here,” Jason said, raising his glass and stirring a few laughs around the banquet room.

  “I’ve also seen how much joy Jason brings to Brooklyn’s life. He treats her as if she’s the most precious gift he’s ever received.”

  Brooklyn and Jason turned to one another and he dipped his chin to give her a quick kiss. I turned to my left, to where Grayson was standing, wearing the same clown nose and sombrero as me (though pink really wasn’t his color). He’d already delivered his speech, but he stood by my side, pressing his hand to my lower back for support and nodding for me to continue.

  “So let’s raise our glasses to Jason and Brooklyn. May they always remember to cherish one another and may we all find a love as lasting as theirs. Cheers!”

  “Cheers!” everyone sang, clinking their glasses together and taking sips of the champagne.

  Grayson clinked his glass with mine, but before I could take a sip, he leaned forward and stole a kiss. Our sombreros collided and his pushed mine off the back of my head, down to the dance floor.

  I laughed and pulled back to stare up at him. The man had a clown nose on and he still looked adorable.

  “Are you laughing at me, Cameron?” he asked with a wink.

  I squeezed his clown nose and then pulled it off.

  “Ah, much better. Now I can actually see my fiancé again.”

  Grayson reached to pull my clown nose off as well.

  “Gorgeous,” he smiled.

  “Can you two stop being adorable?” Brooklyn asked as she bumped her hips with mine. “Jason and I need to do our first dance.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I smiled and tugged Grayson off the dance floor beside me. The house lights dimmed and a spotlight hit the newlyweds as they took their positions. Jason wrapped his arm around Brooklyn’s waist and she cozied up to him with her head resting agains
t his chest. Love surrounded them.

  A slow jazz song swept over the speakers and the DJ announced that Brooklyn and Jason would be enjoying their first dance together.

  “Don’t forget your mom wants us to come over for dinner tomorrow,” I reminded Grayson as Brooklyn and Jason danced slowly across the floor.

  “It’s a wonder she even wants me there. These days it seems like she only has eyes for you,” he teased, pinching my waist.

  “That’s because I reply to her texts much quicker than you!”

  I left out the fact that Grayson doesn’t gossip with her about The Bachelor. No need to wound him—we both knew I was her new favorite child. (Or soon-to-be child.)

  “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, nuzzling my hair.

  “Do you think anyone can tell that Brooklyn’s been drinking sparkling juice instead of champagne?” I asked as we turned our attention back to the newlyweds.

  “Nah. No one suspects a thing.”

  I smiled. Just two weeks earlier Brooklyn had found out she was expecting her first child with Jason. The news was still fresh, and with the paparazzi hounding their every move, she was keeping the announcement private for as long as possible.

  I leaned against Grayson and let him support me as I watched my sister dancing with her new husband, the father of her child.

  “We need to think of what song we want to dance to at our wedding,” I said, tipping my chin to look up at him.

  Without pausing, he answered, “‘You Shook Me All Night Long’ by AC/DC.”

  I laughed. “Yeah right, you’re dreaming.”

  His gaze tipped down to me, his eyes sought mine, and we stayed like that for a moment, watching each other.

  Then, finally, the side of his mouth hitched up and he nodded. “Yeah. I think I am.”

  The End

  Just kidding…

  MORE Epilogue!