Chapter 56
HARLOW
“No, not that dress,” Willa says, sticking her nose up at yet another option I’ve pulled from my closet for dinner on the pier this evening with the whole family.
“What’s wrong with this one?” I groan, looking at the pastel blue dress with flowers on it.
“It’s too busy,” she answers. “Don’t you have something simple that’s actually pretty.”
“Hey,” I groan. “Don’t diss my closet. I haven’t been shopping in a while.”
“Clearly,” she laughs, hopping off my bed. “Let me take a look.”
I sweep my hand to the side, letting her take the lead, since apparently my choices aren’t good enough. She tsks as she flicks through my meager options.
“Ooh,” she spots something in the back. “What about this?”
When she turns around, she’s holding a pastel pink dress.
“Isn’t that a bit much?” I remark. “I haven’t worn that since…”
The one and only Hollywood event I went to with Spencer. It was some sort of dinner gathering at the Waldorf Astoria in Beverly Hills and it ended in disaster.
Why I even kept the dress is beyond me. I suppose with the amount it cost it felt strange to part with it.
“It’ll be perfect for tonight,” she insists. “And let me do your hair and makeup. It’s been so long since I’ve had the chance.”
Even though it’s been years since her transplant, sometimes it’s still surprising to me how different she is.
Her disease made her depressed a lot of the time, downright hopeless, but now that she doesn’t have to be on dialysis or anything like that, she’s returned to the bubbly and happy Willa I know from when we were young.
I change into the dress and sit on my bed for Willa to curl my hair. While it’s cooling on rollers she gets started on my makeup.
“I feel like I’m being spoiled,” I remark.
“We don’t get to spend much time together.” I close my eyes for her to blend shadow onto my lids. “It’s fun to do girly things with you.”
“It’ll all be worth it when you’re a surgeon.”
“This is true,” she agrees with a laugh. “But then it’ll be just as hard to spend time with you.”
She finishes my makeup and removes my hair from the rollers.
“Babe?” Jasper’s voice echoes on the other side of the closed door. “We’ve gotta go.”
“We’re almost done,” she calls back. To me, she asks, “Do you want your hair up or down?”
“Either is fine.”
She chooses to leave it down, probably because we have no time left if we want to make it in time for the reservation.
We grab our heels and slip them on. She passes me my purse I packed up earlier.
When we exit the room, we find the guys chatting in the kitchen and Roe watching a movie.
“Look at you in your pretty dress.” I bend and kiss the top of her head.
“Ew, Mom. You’re gonna get lipstick on my hair.” She wipes madly at the top of her head.
“Stop trying to wipe my love away,” I tease.
Turning to Jameson, my heart does a little jolt. He looks incredibly handsome in a pair of black slacks and a white button down. His dark hair is still slightly damp from his shower. Loose curls rest against his forehead.
“Hey, handsome,” I tease.
“You look beautiful.” He wraps an arm around my waist. “I’ve never seen this dress before.”
“It was buried deep in the closet. A relic Willa found when she looked.”
He chuckles, amusement twinkling in his eyes. There’s something else there, too, that I can’t seem to pinpoint.
“Is everyone ready?” Jae asks, looking around for affirmative nods.
Since Jameson has an SUV, we all go in that together, so we don’t have to split off.
It’s a busy weekend, so by the time we make it to the pier, parking is a nightmare.
After circling a few times, Jameson opts to park in one of the nearby garages.
I’m not looking forward to the trek to the restaurant in heels, but I’ll survive.
Jameson and I end up walking behind my sister and Jasper. Monroe is between them, holding each of their hands. She loves when she gets to see her aunt and uncle.
“I feel like there’s some special occasion happening I don’t know about,” I muse as we go.
Jameson chuckles, his fingers flexing slightly against my waist. “Can’t your parents want to have a nice meal with everyone in town?”
“Yeah, of course, but…” I trail off, not sure how to complete my thought.
“Grandma! Grandpa!” Roe runs straight for my parents when she spots them waiting outside the restaurant on a bench.
The pier is busy but considering we’re a few weeks from true summer it could be worse.
My dad checks us in for our reservation and I look around, taking in the elegant coastal décor. I’ve never eaten here since it’s a bit pricey, so I figure I should take it all in and enjoy it since this is a treat that won’t be happening again anytime soon.
We’re led to an outdoor space that’s shockingly private, the deck is closed off on two sides, only open to the restaurant and the ocean.
“Oh, wow. Look at this view,” I gasp, heading to the railing. I’ve lived here all my life, and you’d think I’d be sick of this place, but I’m not. I love Santa Monica. “This is the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen.” The sky is alight with shades of pink, orange, and lavender.
“Harlow?”
I turn around at the sound of his voice. Soft, coaxing, nervous almost.
A gasp erupts from my throat the sight of him kneeling on one knee.
My hand flies up to cover my mouth as my eyes widen.
Shock.
I’m frozen. Suspended in this tiny space of time. One second feels like one minute.
“Jameson?” I mouth his name in question, barely breathing it into existence.
I look at the diamond. It’s large, beautiful, too extravagant. My hand trembles against my mouth, unsteady with nerves and surprise, and … fear too.
Because when my boyfriend proposes to me, my first thought shouldn’t be about the boy I loved—the man I can’t seem to resist no matter how far I try to push him away.
“Harlow, the last two years have been some of the best of my life,” he starts, a nervous smile on his lips.
His nearly black hair curls against the collar of his shirt, his brown eyes are anxious but happy behind his glasses.
“I love you. I love your daughter. I love our life together. Please, say you’ll be my wife? ”
I close my eyes, guilt ridden and unable to look at him.
Spencer, my mind whispers to me. What about Spencer?
The man who took all my firsts.
My first kiss.
My first time.
My first love.
But first doesn’t always mean last.
I drop to my knees in front of Jameson, taking his face in my hands as tears course down my cheeks.
I open my mouth, and I answer him.