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As we talk, I feel a tug at my heart, the words I’ve been holding onto for weeks rising to the surface. “I’ve been thinking about telling Andrew the truth about my dad,” I say, lowering my voice. “But it scares me, Lisa.”
Lisa nods, her gaze softening. “He loves you, Emily. He’ll understand. And you’ll feel lighter once it’s out there.”
I inhale deeply. Now that the renovations are out of the way, there’s nothing holding me back from telling Andrew. It doesn’t feel right between us with this huge thing hanging over my head.
“You’re right. I’ll tell him. I just hope it doesn’t change things between us.”
Before I can say more, my mother approaches, smiling brightly, her face glowing with pride. She pulls me into a hug, and for a moment, it feels like nothing else matters.
“Your father would be so proud of you,” she whispers. “I know it.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. I regret that I haven’t been able to visit as often with all the final preparations, and I apologize to her softly.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she reassures me. “He’d understand, and he’d be thrilled with what you’ve done here.”
Soon after, the ceremony begins, and Andrew steps up to the podium, his voice calm as he thanks everyone who helped bring the Riviera back to life.
I join him, my voice carrying the gratitude I feel for everyone in the room.
When I’m done with my short speech, the crowd erupts into applause, and a soft chime of champagne flutes fills the air as servers pass them out, one by one.
Andrew turns to me, lifting his glass, his eyes sparkling with pride and something deeper, something that fills me with warmth.
“To the new Army Base Riviera,” he says, his voice carrying over the crowd, and everyone raises their glasses with a collective cheer.
“To the Army Base Riviera,” I echo, clinking my glass with his.
Once the toast is finished and the clinking of glasses fills the room, the manager of the hotel, Simon, steps forward, his warm smile signaling the start of the much-anticipated tour.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you’d like to follow me, we’ll take a look around the new and improved Army Base Riviera,” Simon announces, his voice carrying a mixture of pride and excitement.
His professionalism shines through as he expertly guides the crowd, gesturing toward various design features and amenities, weaving stories about the history of the hotel along the way.
As the tour wraps up, we head back to the main ballroom, where the soft strains of jazz music begin to fill the air.
As the night goes on, laughter and music fill the room. Guests begin to dance, twirling to the soft, romantic tunes.
The ambiance is exactly what we wanted: a warm, lively gathering that showcases the essence of the Riviera, brought to life by everyone who believed in our vision.
“A dance, my beautiful wife?” Andrew says, bowing low.
Lisa and I giggle.
“I thought you would never ask,” I say, placing my hand in his. He leads me to the dance floor and holds me so close the world fades and it’s just the two of us.
“Did I tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman here tonight?” Andrew whispers in my ear.
I look up and meet his gaze. “I want to be the most beautiful woman to you.” Flirting with Andrew comes naturally. It doesn’t feel forced. At all.
Andrew grins, pulling me a little closer, his hand resting at the small of my back. “You already are,” he says.
Just then, a gentle tap on my shoulder pulls me back to reality. I turn to find my mother standing there, trying to mask her tension behind a strained smile. My stomach drops. I know that look.
“Mom?” I ask, unable to hide the fear in my voice.
She smiles, but I know instinctively know that it’s for Andrew’s sake. “Could I have a word?”
Andrew gives me a supportive nod, loosening his hold as I follow her off the dance floor, away from the crowd’s laughter and music. We step into a quiet corner of the room, where my mother’s face loses its practiced composure.