Not that I’d say that out loud. “Was there something you wanted?”
She mother sighs. “You’ve got an attractive man with a promising career and a good family. You’re running out of time to close the deal.”
This conversation again. “Marriage isn’t the crowning achievement it was in your day.” A low blow, but she asked for it. “I’ve got my own promising career. Maybe I don’t care about marriage.”
“Sweetheart.” She rubs my shoulder, a comfort I’m annoyed to find myself craving. “Is that why you and Lana looked at wedding gowns last week?”
I blink. “How did you—”
“Mothers know everything, dear.” She squeezes my shoulder, then drops her hand with a smile. “I’m proud of you, darling. Now go close the deal.”
She walks away while I’m still processing her words. Is she proud of me for dating the man Business Week called “Hollywood’s most up-and-coming entrepreneur,” or for my own career achievements?
My Oscar nod last year solidified my standing as part of Judson royalty, and God knows my mother had her own Hollywood career. It’s not like she wants me barefoot and chained to a stove.
But deep down, I know I won’t earn her awe until I’ve achieved the great trifecta. Career, beauty, and the cover of People magazine’s wedding issue, not necessarily in that order.
Squaring my shoulders, I pivot and march toward my sisters. Mari turns and meets my eye, and I’m opening my mouth to call to her when a mic squeal slices through party chatter.
“Heeeyyy, everyone! Thanks for being here.” Nick’s voice is smooth as melted chocolate, and I turn as my heart kicks to a quick canter. He’s standing on a raised platform, and when he catches my eye, he winks. “Part of why we’re here tonight is to celebrate the opening of Armbrust Anaheim, so thank you all for making it happen.”
I clap along with everyone, heart in a full gallop now. His modesty is one thing I admire about him, and I love that he makes it sound like the new Armbrust Resort was a joint effort.
But I know he turned down his parents’ offer of seed money. He designed all those pretty little cabins himself, slinging a hammer right alongside his crew. He did it on his own, and I’m damn proud of him.
My husband.
I know I said I don’t care about marriage, and I don’t. But seeing him up there, dark skin golden under the lights, I can’t stop picturing our future.
Nick clears his throat and continues. “I’d like to thank my parents, Angela and Darius Armbrust, for not disowning me when I quit law school to work construction.”
A ripple of laughter moves through the room, but I keep my eyes on Nick. On the flicker of anxious pride in his eyes. I wonder if anyone else sees it.
“I’d also like to thank Lauren Judson.” He turns to me and smiles. “Girl, you’ve been my rock through all of this. I can’t thank you enough.”
More applause, and I demur like I learned to do before I could walk. My brain snags on the word “rock,” curious if it’s a clue.
“Speaking of rocks,” he continues, and my breath catches in my throat. “I have an important announcement. Well, an announcement and a special request.”
Oh my God.
This is happening. It’s really happening.
Tears needle my eyelids, but I blink them back. With the sharp points of my manicure, I pinch the skin between my thumb and pointer finger the way I learned at sixteen.
“Do this when you think you might cry,” my mother instructed on the eve of my first major awards ceremony. “The pain will distract you.”
But nothing distracts me from the gleam in Nick’s eye, the shape of him in that well-tailored suit, the fullness of lips I’ve kissed a thousand times as he lifts the mic again.
“Let me back up a little bit,” he continues, voice cracking a little. He laughs and clears his throat, glancing at the bright light shining down on him. “Wow, this is harder than I thought. I’m not used to being in the spotlight.”
Should I help him out? I grew up in the spotlight, so public speaking is like breathing. I edge closer to the platform, my breath coming quicker now.
“Let me try this again.” He shifts the mic to his other hand and smiles at me before lifting his gaze to the crowd. “Ten months ago on a trip to Colorado, I went to see of my favorite performers.”
Fondness squeezes my heart. We’d been dating two months when Nick invited me on a weekend getaway. “We’ll see Gary Clark Jr. at Red Rocks Amphitheatre and stay at this cool little bed and breakfast.” He smiled almost shyly, pulling me closer. “I know it’s not the luxury digs you’re used to, but—”
“It sounds amazing,” I’d interrupted, stretching up to kiss him. “Just like you.”
And he is. This public event, the retelling of our first weekend getaway—all of this is the proposal of my dreams, if I were the kind of woman to dream of such things.
Which I’m not.
But I’m just saying—
“—the trees, the sky, the entire landscape,” Nick’s saying, and I realize I’ve missed some of what he’s just said. “And I found myself thinking there’s only one thing that could make this better.”
He meets my eyes again and I hold my breath. This is it.
“So what I’m wondering,” Nick says, tugging the collar of his shirt. “What I’m planning, that is—”
“Yes!”
Oh, God.
That was me, wasn’t it?
I glance around, and yep. Everyone’s staring.
But I don’t care because the man of my dreams is proposing, and the least I can do is make it easier on him. Nick cocks his head, smiling with a question in his eyes.
And I have the answer.
I take another step forward and hold out my hand. My left hand, in case he wants to slip the ring on. Nick looks at me uncertainly and pulls the mic closer. “Hold on just a second, babe.” He smiles. “Almost done.”
Right. Of course, he wants to get the words out. I glance at the edge of the platform and see my brother, Gabe, with his camera rolling. The upside of growing up in show biz is that there’s always someone to capture life’s major moments.
Nick clears his throat again, so I put my hand down and command myself to be patient.
“Just last week, I signed the title on eight acres west of Denver.” He smiles and a flush of pride moves through me. Building a rustic resort in Colorado has been on his bucket list forever, and I’m thrilled I’ll be by his side as he makes that dream come true. “As part of that project, we’re building a new a state-of-the-art performing arts center.”
This part is news to me, but okay. It sounds amazing, and I can’t wait to hear more. But come on, let’s get this show started.
Nick meets my eye like he’s psyching himself up for something. I offer an encouraging smile as he takes a deep breath. “Right now,” he says, “I would like to formally ask Laurence Judson to m—”
“Yes, I’ll marry you!”
Oh, shit.
All the blood drains from my head as I realize what he’s just said.
Laurence Judson?
My humiliated heart claws for explanation. Like maybe he’s seeking my father’s blessing, even though it’s patriarchal and outdated and—oh, God now my dad is striding toward the platform.