Page 52 of Pretty Desperate (Pine Village #6)

JILLIAN

Kameron leads me toward the front of the room and raises his hand. “If I could have everyone’s attention?”

He’s not big on public speeches, but we discussed the importance of him speaking this evening. Even though he’d prefer to let the food and the ambiance do the talking, he knew this was the right way to express his appreciation to those in the room this evening.

The room begins to quiet down, and I can feel the eyes of everyone fall on us, including the newcomer at the back.

I don’t know who she is, but Kameron does.

Perhaps she’s an old friend from Chicago or someone he knew from his culinary school days.

She’s well dressed, in a dark blue business suit and designer shoes.

Her hair is perfect, not a single strand out of place, and her nails manicured and red.

“I won’t bore you with a long speech, but I do have a few things to say this evening.

First off, every person in this room had a hand in tonight’s celebration.

I want to thank my staff, who always go above and beyond, the city and Mr. Mayor for his encouragement and patronage, Mrs. Dorothy Krokus for believing in me and granting me the purchase of this beautiful space.

My vision has come to life because of her, and I will forever be grateful. ”

The older woman blows Kameron a kiss, making him blush and me laugh.

“My friends are all in attendance tonight, as well as Jillian’s family. I appreciate you all being here tonight.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing.

“There are a few people noticeably absent this evening. My parents,” he states before clearing the emotion from his throat, “and my younger brother, Kelvin. I have no doubt all three of them would be standing here with us tonight. I just…” He clears his throat a second time and whispers, “I just hope I’ve made them proud. ”

My heart aches as tears fill my own eyes. I give his hand a gentle squeeze, letting him know I’m right here beside him and he’s not alone in his grief.

“You have,” someone hollers from the back of the room.

When I look up, I see Gabe standing there, holding up his beer bottle in salute.

“Thank you.” Kameron gives himself a few more seconds to compose his emotions before he continues, turning to look at me.

“And last but certainly not least, my Jilly. You are my everything. You’ve been my rock on the hard days and a sounding board when I needed to work things out in my head.

You’ve put up with late dinners and even later nights at work, often going to bed alone until I get home.

Our schedules don’t always sync, but we make it work, and there’s no one I want by my side but you. ”

He flashes a quick smile. “You and our babies.”

The audience claps as he leans over and gives me a gentle, PG kiss in front of everyone. When he stands up, he turns back to the crowd. “I’ve done something she’s going to hate, and all I can hope is she forgives me and knows my heart was in the right place. I love you, Jilly.”

My eyebrows draw together in confusion as I consider his words. I glance over to where my friends are standing, and they all look on, equally perplexed.

Well, except for Ryan.

She’s grinning from ear to ear.

“If Mrs. Janice Decker would please come up to the front,” Kameron says with a grin.

I watch as the woman in the blue business suit steps forward and smiles. “Thank you so much, Kameron, and might I add a quick congratulations to you on your beautiful restaurant. I’d love to speak with you soon about featuring you in our publications.”

My eyes dart to Kameron, who looks shocked by her statement.

Publications?

He squeezes my hand, and I admit, I’m glad he’s holding it. Even with his fingers linked around mine, I know I’m trembling, unsure what is going on and dreading the spotlight I’ve been thrust into.

“As Kameron mentioned, I’m Janice Decker, CEO of Foodie Publications out of New York. A few months back, I received a rough draft of a cookbook. It was submitted by the boyfriend of the author and was everything we look for at Foodie.”

My heart is trying to hammer out of my chest, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. I feel Kameron’s hand on my shoulder, his thumb running over the back of my neck in a soothing manner.

“That cookbook was written by Miss Jillian Kirby, and if she’ll accept our offer, we’d love to produce that very cookbook for world-wide distribution by next summer.”

The room erupts into applause and cheers.

Did I hear her correctly?

I gaze up at Kameron, who looks both worried and proud. “You did this?”

He turns and pulls me into his arms. “No, Jilly, you did this. I only sent an email.”

The tears filling my eyes spill out as he kisses my lips. “I don’t believe this,” I mutter.

“Well, believe it, beautiful. Janice has a contract for you to review and details to discuss.” He stands up tall and places his hands on my stomach.

“But…th-this is your night,” I stammer, still in complete shock.

“No, my love. This is our night.”

And it is.

After stealing about thirty minutes in Kameron’s office to discuss the offer, my name is signed on the contract and Janice is on her way back to New York, promising to email the final paperwork first thing in the morning.

“Is this really happening?” I ask when the guests start to leave and the cleanup begins.

“It is,” he confirms, pulling me against him. My stomach isn’t flat anymore, but he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, his hands are always seeking it out, as if he needs to touch our growing babies more than he needs air.

“I can’t believe you did this,” I say once more, reeling.

“I was worried you’d be mad, and maybe telling you about it publicly like this wasn’t my brightest idea, but I’m hoping you’ll be so happy with the outcome you’ll overlook that indiscretion.”

Shaking my head, I slip my arm around his waist and lean into his side. “I forgive you, Mr. Markley.”

“Good,” he states, leaning down and kissing the crown of my head. “Because the next course is going to be even better.”

“Next course?” I ask, catching his culinary reference.

“You and me, Jilly. I see a little house where our children can grow and play. A swing set in the backyard and a huge kitchen where we can both cook and bake to our heart’s content.” He brushes his lips across mine. “I see a diamond ring on your finger, Jilly. One day, I’ll make that happen.”

I can’t help but smile. It’s only been a handful of months since we started dating—fake or otherwise—but to hear him talk about proposing, about getting married, about raising our twins and any more kids together, feels perfect.

No, not perfect, because life never is.

It feels right.

Very right.

I gaze into his eyes and smile. “I’ll say yes.”

I’ve never been more confident in something this major, this life-changing, as I am right now.

He clears his throat, his eyes turning a bit misty. “I know it’s not the same as a new ring, but…I have my mom’s wedding ring.”

A lump the size of the Titanic forms in my throat, making it hard to breathe. “I’d wear it proudly.”

“Yeah?”

I nod. “I always thought it would be perfect to wear my grandmother’s engagement ring. It’s timeless and classic and…yeah. I don’t need a new ring.”

“Good to know.”

“And I love the vision of our future, Kameron. I don’t want to rush either, but when you’re ready, I will be too.”

His blue orbs brighten with excitement. “I love you, Jillian Kirby. Thanks for agreeing to be my fake girlfriend.”

I can’t help but chuckle as I press my lips to his. “I love you, Kameron Markley. Thanks for asking me to be your fake girlfriend.”

What a beautiful mess we’re living.

A beautiful life.

I’m ready for the next course.

THE END