Epilogue
One Yearand Two Months Later
What a year.I stand on the upper deck of the Seafarer and stare across her decks, a flute of champagne in my hand.
It’s only 6 o’clock but the lower decks are abuzz with activity. Catering sets up a feast on long tables while tech crews run last-minute checks of the audio quality. Dashing between them all are the legion of decorators that Evie hired for the event.
It’s funny how life can plod on for years, more or less the same, and then, in the span of fourteen months do a complete one-eighty. In a move that once would have been unthinkable, I’ve downsized my company and was happy to do so.
I wish I could say it was entirely my decision. Kara’s arrest for the pop-up concert left her with a slew of legal trouble. Unfortunately, the judge had tried to make an example out of her, and the ensuing battle in the courts dragged on way longer than we’d anticipated. She ultimately was only sentenced to a large fine (that I paid) and community service hours.
Dalton, Evie, and I joined her out of solidarity, and it ended up being way more impactful than I could have imagined. Getting to hang out with kids from the same neighborhoods that Kara and I grew up in spread the message that even though the odds are heavily stacked against them, they can still get out. Unsurprisingly, that message was better received coming from the famous DJ, but some of them listened to me too. Right now I have a solid amount of kids from the program working at the event, and with my tutelage and connections bolstering their natural talent, I know they’ll go on to do great things for themselves and their communities.
So though the case ultimately ended up okay, it was clear by July that there was no way the Seafarer was going to be sailing by August. The month came and went while we were embroiled in the courts and before long, the prime season was over. My market value crashed. I was in danger of losing the company. The unthinkable had finally happened.
But as so often happens when our worst fears come true, the reality ended up being very different from those sweaty 1 a.m. anxieties. I got through it, and the troubles were made infinitely easier with Evie and my new friends by my side.
My advisers told me to sink the Seafarer. Not literally, of course, but to sell it to a competitor. I rejected the plan. Not only would it barely make even, but I’d be damned if I saw my beautiful ship sailing the seas with Mickey Mouse behind the wheel.
So, in true Nick Madison fashion, I did the opposite of what everyone said: I sold everything else.
I sold all of my company’s development projects and downsized immensely, making sure to give all my employees incredibly generous dismissal packages. I hope most of them will come back once I expand in the cruise department. They’ll certainly receive invitations.
It also means that I had to sell the downtown office with its giant glass fishbowl office. Gone too is the penthouse apartment on Central Park. Getting rid of both was a relief. They no longer represented the man I wanted to be, the man I was working to become. Cold impersonality works when you’re trying to rid yourself of all emotions.
But now? Now I know the power of them.
Evie and I moved to a different penthouse in the Village. It’s in a neighborhood where the buildings aren’t skyscrapers. We have a large terrace with a beautiful view of the surrounding city and lots of light that shines on the hardwood floors and house plants. It’s a comfortable place to come home to, where I can set aside the worries of work and lie in the sun with my beauty as we read our respective books, or collapse into bed together, tangling in the sheets as we urge each other toward pleasure again and again.
But even that is changing now.
“There you are,” a voice says behind me. “Kara’s looking for you.”
It’s Jack. My little brother is dressed well, with a fresh haircut and an easy smile. It’d been a hard year for him too, a difficult transition into adulthood as he debates what he wants to do with his life. It feels like he changes his mind every other day, but I’m just happy that he’s thinking about it. He didn’t move back in with me, continuing to stay with a friend in Brooklyn and working at a dispensary. But we get lunch once a week, and every month I take him to see Dad. I never go into the visiting area with him. Some relationships can’t be mended until both parties want it to. I’m not there yet, and I doubt Dad will ever be. But I go for Jack. So he doesn’t have to do it alone. It’s the very least I can do.
“Of course,” I say, clasping his outstretched hand. “Last-minute notes on the speaker quality?”
“Something like that,” Jack says. “What are you doing up here alone?”
“Just looking at it all,” I say. “Thinking about how I got here.”
“It’s been a trip, all right.”
“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” I ask him, leaning on the rail and putting my foot up on it.
“No way,” he says with a grin. “I’d miss the city too much. I don’t know how you’re gonna do it.”
I shrug. “We’ll see. Might be nice.”
“Are you still gonna—” His eyes travel past my face and land on something behind me. “Speak of the devil.”
I turn and there she is. My Evie. Blonde hair spilling free down the open back of a black party dress that skirts the tricky line between professional and here to party.
Jack slaps me on the back and says, “I’ll see ya on the dance floor, bro.” He leaves with a friendly nod to Evie, who joins me at the railing.
Evie wraps her arm around me and leans her head against my chest, fitting perfectly into place like we were built for each other. “Ready to have a good time?” she asks.
“Now I am,” I say. I lean down and kiss her, and she kisses me back, but there’s something wrong. A tension in her face that I can feel rather than see.
I pull back and look down at her curiously. “Are you okay?” I ask.
“Are you sure about this trip?” she asks.
“Are you not?”
As owner of the Seafarer I want a front row seat of the maiden voyage. Tonight we’re finally hosting the concert that Evie pitched me so long ago, a ride around Manhattan with Kara’s beats, meant to draw interest and ticket sales. Next month will be the official launch that sails to the Caribbean, and Evie and I had planned to be on it. And afterward? Well, Evie is now helming all my advertising for the cruise ships, and my workload is quartered now that I’m just focusing on one industry. We deserve a little vacation, a little break. And I want to get away from the city. I want to look out my window and see more than my past.
“It’s just…” Evie turns away from me. There’s real confliction on her face, the likes of which I haven’t seen since that horrible night in my old penthouse when she walked out my door and we both thought it was goodbye.
“What’s the matter, Evie?” I ask. A thousand nightmare situations are coursing through my mind. Illness. Cold feet. A vengeful Brent, furious that Cheryl left him and that Dax made his client list follow suit, blackmailing her.
But then Evie turns back to me and says, “I’m pregnant.”
The world stops. No, seriously. I think the turn of the Earth is actually halted by Evie’s words. Someone figure out how this will affect Daylight Saving Time and the polar bears.
A baby. A child. My child. Crawling around my feet. Little dresses or tiny ties. Then peewee sports and birthday sleepovers. And hormones and dating and crashing my Porsche and high school graduation and college and weddings and grandchildren and?—
“Will you say something!”
Evie stares up at me, and through my haze I suddenly realize that she’s waiting on baited breath. And then it hits me. She thinks I’m going to be upset.
My shocked face spreads, millimeter by millimeter, with a huge, overwhelming smile. I lunge at her, wrap her in my arms, kiss her neck, laughing and almost hopping with excitement.
Evie, now laughing herself, untangles herself from me, and says, “Hold on. Let’s be clear. You’re not mad?”
“Babe, why the hell would I be mad?” I ask.
“It’s just… With Jack. You always said you’d be a horrible parent.”
I laugh again, feeling giddy, a bit lightheaded. “Oh yeah, that’s still correct. I’m going to be the worst. But you? You’re going to be a fantastic mother, Evie.”
“Oh come on. The worst? I doubt that.”
“I’m going to try my best not to be a hard-ass,” I say. “But it is in my nature.”
“Correction,” she says. “It’s not. And as much as you’ve got the rest of the world convinced that you’re a prickly asshole, I know you too well. This kid is going to have you wrapped around her finger.”
My eyes widen. “It’s a girl? Isn’t it a little soon to know?”
Evie shrugs. “Just a feeling. But I’ll bet I’m right.”
Me too. God, pregnancy is going to look wonderful on her. I can’t wait to see it. I can’t wait to see her in all states, all moods, all ages. From young and hopeful, the two of us starting a family together, to old and gray and watching our grandchildren play. I want to be here, by her side, for all of it. And as nervous as I am about being a father, I know I can get through anything as long as we’re together.
“I was going to wait,” I say, “for a more perfect day. But I don’t know if anything could be more perfect than the way I feel right now.”
I kneel, pull the small box out of my pocket, and open the ring to her suddenly tear-filled eyes. Her hands clasp to her mouth, and she staggers back against the railing.
“Evelyn Marie Davis,” I say. “Will you do me the honor of spending the rest of your life with me?”
In response, she throws herself into my arms, almost knocking the ring flying, and sending me falling on my ass on the deck. But it’s perfect. Her lovely mouth presses against mine and I hold her in my arms, kissing her, feeling her stomach, full of joy at this life I’ve been, against all the odds, blessed to have.
The dark times have faded, the storms blown away. And now comes the sun.