Epilogue
NATE
“We have to figure out a way to get crumpets,” Cat says as we walk into our building lobby and she shakes off the chill from outside. “I think I got addicted to them in London.”
I just nod. Normally, I’d join her in speculating where we can find the rolls we practically lived on in our week-long business trip in the UK. But right now, I’m too distracted to pay attention.
Beau texted me right before our car got here, letting me know that the guys finished setting up everything in the apartment. They were cutting it pretty fucking close, so hopefully they didn’t rush and forget anything.
I’m pretty sure what Cat will say when I propose. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want everything to be absolutely fucking perfect. She deserves nothing less.
“Do you think the dress you got me at Harrod’s got wrinkled during the flight?” Cat asks. “I thought I might wear it to the gala tonight. It’ll go better with the holiday flowers.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Fuck, that better not be Luke telling me something went wrong. I don’t want to look in case Cat sees a text and it ruins the surprise.
She elbows me in the side. “Hello, earth to Nate.”
Before I can come up with an excuse for my distraction, I’m saved by a loud crash and a series of meows at the door.
Cat and I turn around to see Pippa, shoving through the front entrance in a puffy coat, a cat carrier clutched in her hands.
The two rolling suitcases she was trying to wheel in have fallen to the floor, the loud clatter of them echoing in the atrium.
“Pippa? What are you doing here?” Cat asks, rushing back to help her friend.
“I got kicked out of my apartment,” Pippa grunts. “I knew not having a formal renter’s agreement was going to bite me in the ass.”
“Oh no. Did they find Waffle?”
I frown. “What’s Waffle?”
The creature in the cat carrier meows loudly, clearly offended.
“This is Waffle,” Pippa says. “I wasn’t technically allowed to have pets, but she doesn’t go outside!
I never thought they’d actually enforce it.
Turns out, my landlord’s new girlfriend is allergic.
When he figured out why she kept sneezing in the laundry room, the asshole evicted us. ”
“Oh god, that’s awful!” Cat says. “And right before Christmas? What an asshole.”
“I’m sorry,” I add. I feel for her—the rental market in Toronto is even worse than it was last year. If Pippa needs a place to stay, I doubt she’ll find anything that’s both pet-friendly and not absurdly overpriced and moving during the holidays isn’t even an option. But wait…what’s she doing here?
“It’s fine,” Pippa says. “I would stay with my parents, but they’re in the middle of selling their place. They told me I have to stay with Ryan until I find a new rental that will let Waffle live there.”
Cat looks as horrified as I feel. “You and Ryan will kill each other. You have to stay with us. We have like three guest rooms!”
I stiffen. Obviously, with the whole setup upstairs, now would be the worst time for Pippa to come to our place with her very loud feline.
She’s Cat’s friend, so of course I’d let her stay…
but if I’m honest, my fantasy of the next few days doesn’t include anyone other than me, my fiancée, and the matching lingerie we picked up at Harrod’s earlier.
Thankfully, Pippa beats me to the punch.
“Thanks, but I’m good. I have no desire to listen to you two boning all hours of the day and night while I remain single as a Pringle. Not that I don’t loooove being the third wheel on all your romantic dinners already.”
The elevator doors open and we all pile in, Cat pouting. “Nate and I are not that bad.”
“No,” Pippa deadpans. “You’re worse than bad, because you’re so adorable, it makes me want to hurl. I think I’ll take my chances with the evil stepbrother.”
Just then, the doors open to Ryan’s apartment.
It’s the ultimate bachelor pad, with Mad Men-style midcentury furniture, a giant flatscreen with a top-notch sound system, and…
apparently, a lacy red bra hanging from a light fixture, above a single discarded high-heeled sandal.
The smell of sex and whiskey floats over to us.
Pippa takes it all in and lets out a heavy sigh. “Pray for me, Cat.”
She marches inside with her cat, suitcases, and a look of fierce determination. Cat shakes her head. “God, I hope she doesn’t kill him. She’ll make me try and be her alibi.”
“Let’s hope he doesn’t kill her. I’ll have to doctor so much security footage to make it look like an accident.”
Cat playfully hits my arm as the elevator arrives at our apartment. She steps inside and gasps.
There are candles everywhere, casting all the vases of peony tulips in a soft golden glow.
Further inside, the table is set with a pile of golden macarons, and Cat’s pink champagne glasses are ready next to a bucket of French champagne.
Low piano music plays from the speakers.
It’s exactly like I imagined it. The guys did a surprisingly good job setting it all up.
“Oh, Nate…” Cat says slowly. “Is all this for the Gala tonight? Oh, it’s amazing!”
She walks right toward the macarons to investigate, and I almost laugh.
Cat’s turning into just as big of a workaholic as I am.
Her mind is so focused on the gala tonight and the money she can raise for the foundation, she can’t even take in the fact that this is all for her.
Typical Cat, her mind always on other people—but that’s one of the many reasons I love her.
I sink down to one knee and pull the box from my pocket, a ball forming in my throat. Has it really already been an entire year with this incredible woman? It feels like weeks.
But if she says yes, then it’s forever. Please say yes.
“Caitlin Daniels…”
When she turns and sees me kneeling, her eyes go wide. She takes a few steps toward me, looking completely dazed. “Holy shit. Wait, wait, wait. Are you really doing this? The company has so much going on right now, Nate. Your focus should be on—”
“You.” I grab her hand and pull it to my lips, brushing a kiss across each knuckle while I try to swallow past the lump and get fucking control of myself.
Her amber eyes still look uncertain. “But—”
“Hey, look at me.” I squeeze her hand and say the most important words I’ve ever said. “You are not an inconvenience, and you are not second to the company. Don’t you get it, Kitten? You’re the most important thing in my life. I need you like I need…sunlight.”
Happy tears shine in her eyes, and she brushes them away while she smiles down at me.
“I want to be the one you call when you’re excited or when you’re sad. The one you seek out when you need help or just when you’re bored. I want mine to be the name you scream every time you climax…and I want to share that name with you.”
I open the box and she gasps. For once, I didn’t even think about calling my stylist. I wanted to choose her ring myself, and I spent ages searching for the right rosy pink diamond. I can tell from Cat’s grin that I made the right choice.
“Will you marry me?”
She laughs and brushes the last tears away. “Are you sure?”
I chuckle. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
“Yes.”
She kneels down to kiss me. Or at least, she tries to.
She practically tackles me to the floor, she’s so excited.
Of course, I’m all too happy to pull her down to the floor with me and kiss her until we’re both breathless.
If Cat wants to go to the gala, fine by me.
But I can think of a few ways I’d rather celebrate, all of which would happen right here in this apartment.
My plans are interrupted when my phone starts buzzing. It keeps going, no matter how long I kiss Cat. It’s too fucking distracting, and I groan as I pull away from her.
“Who’s so desperate to reach you?” she asks.
“It’s the guys. They have no patience,” I mutter.
“What are they saying?” she says, giggling.
I check my phone. “They say they’ve got gifts and more champagne downstairs. They want us to come down.”
I fire off a quick message telling them to back off a second. She literally just said yes.
Actually, the guys wanted to be here to watch the proposal. I shut that down—this moment was just for me and Cat. I know that’s how she would want it, too.
Cat’s phone buzzes, and she smiles when she opens it.
“Pippa?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Luke wants to know if he can open the champagne already and Ryan wants to see the ring.”
I groan. “They added you to a new group chat without me?”
“You should be happy that your friends like me.” Cat grabs the abandoned ring box and looks at it again. “Oh, Nate, it’s perfect. I love it.”
I grab her hand and slide the ring onto her finger. “You make it even more beautiful, Kitten.”
Both our phones buzz. Our friends are apparently very impatient.
“We better go downstairs,” Cat says. “We wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.”
But I take her face in my hand and pull her toward me. I kiss her once, then again, more deeply. I murmur, “Let them wait.”