“On the other hand,” he said, nodding to a bride and groom strolling along the courtyard below them in white gown and black tux, “some people come to Vegas to change their life.”
Carlotta smiled at the glowing couple, but something she’d detected in Peter’s voice made her look back to him.
He was holding a red ring box containing a familiar Cartier ring. It was the ring he’d first given her when they were young. After her father’s scandal had broken and Peter had ended their engagement, she had kept the ring for years, pining for him, until she’d been forced to sell it to a pawn shop. By that time Peter was back in her life and had hunted down the ring, then upped the ante by adding a large glittering diamond on either side of the center solitaire. Since then he’d been trying to convince her to wear it.
“Do you remember our agreement?” he asked.
Her throat was tight, so she nodded. When Randolph had returned unexpectedly, she’d suggested to Peter they spend some time apart so their relationship wouldn’t be a conflict of interest for him at work. He had agreed, but only if she promised to use the separation to consider wearing his ring.
“So, now that you’ve had time to think about us…will you wear my ring, Carly?”
Her heart flapped around in her chest. How could she not be dazzled by the amazing piece of jewelry? And flattered that Peter had created it solely for her? But she wanted to know what meaning would be attached to it, what he would expect of her.
“What are you asking, Peter?”
“This isn’t exactly the way I’d planned to do this, but…” He slid out of his chair and down on one knee. “Carlotta Wren, will you marry me and make me the happiest man alive?”
Gasps sounded around them and she realized they were garnering a lot of attention from other diners.
“Say yes!” a woman shouted, setting off a chorus of encouragement from all around the room, including the servers.
“Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!”
Carlotta swallowed hard as a hot flush crept up her face. Her pulse raced and she was having trouble breathing. Peter looked so handsome and so hopeful. He would love her and give her a good life. They could be happy—if only she would stop punishing him for a youthful mistake. Besides, how did the classic song go?
If you can’t be with the one you love…
“Yes,” she said on an exhale.
Peter whooped with pleasure as he removed the ring to slide onto her finger. The restaurant erupted in applause. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her heartily. Peter’s happiness was contagious, and her chest welled with deep affection for him and all they’d been through. She laughed and waved to the people sitting around them, thanking them. As the cheers subsided, she and Peter reclaimed their seats. Her stomach rolled from all the excitement, and her palms were moist. She stared at the ring, its many carats sparkling under the lights.
“It’s awesome,” their waitress said, her voice wistful. “And a step up from that plastic bracelet, for sure.”
Carlotta frowned.
“But I wouldn’t be showing it off, if you know what I mean.” As the woman turned away, she jerked her head toward another table.
Carlotta glanced over to see a pair of questionable-looking men fixated on her ring and exchanging knowing looks.
“Right,” Peter added quietly. “Vegas is riddled with pickpockets and thieves. As soon as we get back to the room, we’ll store it in one of the safes.”
“Okay.”
“By the way, I wasn’t going to say anything about the bracelet, but it doesn’t seem like something you’d wear. Is it sentimental?”
“Not really,” she hedged, covering the cheap pink beads with her hand. “It’s…to remind me of something. It’s…not important.”
He grinned wide. “So we’re engaged.”
“Again,” she added without thinking. When his smile faded a bit, she said, “I’m sorry. This is a new beginning.”
“A new beginning,” he agreed, his eyes darkening with desire. “Let’s get out of here.”
While Peter paid the bill, Carlotta snapped a picture of the ring on her finger and texted it to Hannah.
Ten seconds later, Hannah texted back. Is that what I think it is?
Yes.
Fuck. I knew I should’ve gone to Vegas with you.
I didn’t invite you.
Friends don’t let friends get engaged on the rebound.
Carlotta frowned at the screen.
“Something wrong?” Peter asked.
“No,” Carlotta said, stowing the phone. “I was just sharing the good news with Hannah.”
“I know Hannah doesn’t like me.”