night.”
Those sentences erased
all the ugly hurt from the moments before. Maybe they could do this, carve
their own happiness out of an impossible situation. She inhaled the familiar
scent of his skin, marveling at the way their hearts seemed to beat as one. One
hurdle down, one more to go.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
“T hanks,
man, this is really going to make this album,” Rocco said.
“Anytime.”
Excitement glistened in
the young man’s eyes as he shook Julian’s hand before he turned to exit out the
front door.
After two months of
working together, they were wrapping the album. It was a masterpiece, an
uplifting album with songs for anyone who’d been through something, was going
through a rough spot, or just needed to find a silver lining. The tempos ranged
from slow to fast, with a ballad, dance songs and catchy tunes he knew would be
on the radio for months, stuck in the eager ears of his fans and others who
maybe didn’t think they’d like his style. He felt damn proud. Rocco had come to
him with three collaborations and one solo. Then they’d added seven more.
Julian locked the door
after Rocco and headed back upstairs to the kitchen. Tonight, he and Colette
would celebrate this in style. They’d been planning tonight’s dinner for weeks
and he had a special surprise for her.
They’d weathered through
every storm they’d been tossed into and he was ready to make things permanent.
He patted the velvet case in his pocket. The oval-shaped pink diamond set in an
antique round setting littered with diamonds had screamed at him from the
window of the jewelry shop he was walking by. He hadn’t even realized he was
thinking about marriage until that moment, when the thought of the ring on
anyone else’s finger but Col’s made him balk.
He walked into the shop
and purchased it. The piece had been a welcome weight in his pocket at first.
But as time passed, it began to burn like coal in a furnace. He wanted her to
know how much she meant and saying, “I love you” and doing nice things was no
longer enough.
The baked pasta was in
the oven, the Greek salad was in the crisper and he’d purchased baklava from
the local bakery. He had a few hours to set the scene and pray to whoever was
listening that she said yes.
Julian took his time
prepping the house. A trail of red rose petals led up the stairs to his
bedroom. Champagne chilled in the fridge. He arranged white candles in circular
glass votives over the entire home and set the kitchen table with the cream-colored
linen tablecloth and silverware he’d bought just for this occasion. The place
mats were made of a lace the store worker assured him would give the table a
romantic touch. In the center of the table was a bouquet of red roses, mixed
with pops of baby’s breath and eucalyptus.
The stage was set. Now he
needed to get himself ready.
Julian took a quick
shower, dried off and picked out a pair of black slacks, a crisp white
button-down, a black skinny tie and a black vest. He topped the outfit off with
a pair of gray Converse, slicked his hair back off his face and hurried
downstairs to light the candles.
By the time the doorbell
rang, he’d transformed the house. It’s amazing what you could do with some
Martha Stewart directions and advice from women in the shops. He hit the remote
on his sound system and their favorite slow jams filled the air. He set the
remote on the cocktail table and went to open the door. His jaw dropped at the
vision Col was in the doorway.
She wore a pair of
leather shorts that fell to her upper thigh, a black tank top under a fitted
white blazer and a pair of black heels. She’d kept her hair loose and it flowed
around her, framing her face.
“You look amazing,” he
said.
“You too.” She stepped
inside and gasped as he closed the door behind her and twisted the top lock. “I
can’t believe you did all this,” she whispered.
“Do you like it?”
“I love it. It’s
beautiful.” She did a
Those sentences erased
all the ugly hurt from the moments before. Maybe they could do this, carve
their own happiness out of an impossible situation. She inhaled the familiar
scent of his skin, marveling at the way their hearts seemed to beat as one. One
hurdle down, one more to go.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
“T hanks,
man, this is really going to make this album,” Rocco said.
“Anytime.”
Excitement glistened in
the young man’s eyes as he shook Julian’s hand before he turned to exit out the
front door.
After two months of
working together, they were wrapping the album. It was a masterpiece, an
uplifting album with songs for anyone who’d been through something, was going
through a rough spot, or just needed to find a silver lining. The tempos ranged
from slow to fast, with a ballad, dance songs and catchy tunes he knew would be
on the radio for months, stuck in the eager ears of his fans and others who
maybe didn’t think they’d like his style. He felt damn proud. Rocco had come to
him with three collaborations and one solo. Then they’d added seven more.
Julian locked the door
after Rocco and headed back upstairs to the kitchen. Tonight, he and Colette
would celebrate this in style. They’d been planning tonight’s dinner for weeks
and he had a special surprise for her.
They’d weathered through
every storm they’d been tossed into and he was ready to make things permanent.
He patted the velvet case in his pocket. The oval-shaped pink diamond set in an
antique round setting littered with diamonds had screamed at him from the
window of the jewelry shop he was walking by. He hadn’t even realized he was
thinking about marriage until that moment, when the thought of the ring on
anyone else’s finger but Col’s made him balk.
He walked into the shop
and purchased it. The piece had been a welcome weight in his pocket at first.
But as time passed, it began to burn like coal in a furnace. He wanted her to
know how much she meant and saying, “I love you” and doing nice things was no
longer enough.
The baked pasta was in
the oven, the Greek salad was in the crisper and he’d purchased baklava from
the local bakery. He had a few hours to set the scene and pray to whoever was
listening that she said yes.
Julian took his time
prepping the house. A trail of red rose petals led up the stairs to his
bedroom. Champagne chilled in the fridge. He arranged white candles in circular
glass votives over the entire home and set the kitchen table with the cream-colored
linen tablecloth and silverware he’d bought just for this occasion. The place
mats were made of a lace the store worker assured him would give the table a
romantic touch. In the center of the table was a bouquet of red roses, mixed
with pops of baby’s breath and eucalyptus.
The stage was set. Now he
needed to get himself ready.
Julian took a quick
shower, dried off and picked out a pair of black slacks, a crisp white
button-down, a black skinny tie and a black vest. He topped the outfit off with
a pair of gray Converse, slicked his hair back off his face and hurried
downstairs to light the candles.
By the time the doorbell
rang, he’d transformed the house. It’s amazing what you could do with some
Martha Stewart directions and advice from women in the shops. He hit the remote
on his sound system and their favorite slow jams filled the air. He set the
remote on the cocktail table and went to open the door. His jaw dropped at the
vision Col was in the doorway.
She wore a pair of
leather shorts that fell to her upper thigh, a black tank top under a fitted
white blazer and a pair of black heels. She’d kept her hair loose and it flowed
around her, framing her face.
“You look amazing,” he
said.
“You too.” She stepped
inside and gasped as he closed the door behind her and twisted the top lock. “I
can’t believe you did all this,” she whispered.
“Do you like it?”
“I love it. It’s
beautiful.” She did a
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