Chapter 18
IT LOOKS LIKE it won’t take long for me to discover the answer to that question. The man of the hour is staring at the boxes in my arms the way a smoker covered in nicotine patches might gaze at a carton of cigarettes. I know exactly how he feels.
You want to ride the Eye in a private pod?
the man asks, incredulous. His eyes shift from me to Matthew and back.
His eyebrows are bristly, his hair is wispy and white, and he’s wearing a woolly winter sweater that’s much too tight around his belly.
You do realize it’s Valentine’s Day? It’s one of our busiest days of the year . . .
He fiddles with the red ribbon on one of the boxes, loosening the bow, and I watch him beam as he takes in the sight of the chocolates before looking up at Matthew.
Oh, Matthew, he moans. You sure know how to twist my arm . . . These are all my favourites.
There’s a box of our newest flavour creation, too, Charlie, Matthew adds with an exaggerated wink.
They aren’t even for sale yet, but they might be my new personal favourite.
I must say, our chocolatiers really outdid themselves this time.
The filling is so creamy. Truly, when you bite into them . . . They just melt on your ton—
Okay, okay . . . The poor man flaps his hand, seemingly annoyed, before breaking into a wide grin as he takes the boxes of bonbons from me. You’re lucky you’re my best friend’s son . . . He starts opening one box after the other. Which box has the new ones? He shoots me an eager look.
Cracking up, I point out the box with the golden bow. Even using my employee discount, this still cost me an arm and a leg, but I don’t regret a single penny. As Charlie just noted: it’s Valentine’s Day and tickets for the London Eye were all sold out online.
He pops a chocolate in his mouth, closes his eyes, and lets out another groan.
Best deal ever, I hear him mutter softly, before he shakes his head.
I’m afraid the private capsules are all booked for the day.
What I can do, is send you up after closing time.
I’ll send the boys home at the end of their shift, but I don’t mind sticking around a bit longer .
. . I doubt I’ll go hungry any time soon.
He looks at me with a gleaming smile. Just make sure your suitor arrives here by 7, lass.
And get yourself here 10 minutes early if there’s anything you want to prepare.
And then he walks off toward his office, humming along the way before biting into another bonbon. Mouth full of chocolate, I hear him mumble, The things people do for love . . .
At 6:50, I walk up to the London Eye carrying bags full of candles, pillows, champagne, and a Bluetooth speaker.
The enormous wheel has stopped moving, but still casts a pink glow over the Thames.
Looking up at the colossal structure, I suddenly find myself with my fingers crossed, hoping that Val’s mortal dread on the flight really was caused by a fear of flying and not simply a fear of heights.
Charlie comes out to meet me, a twinkle in his eyes as he rubs his hands together. He’s wearing a huge woollen hat and there’s a pink blush on his cheeks. He glances at the bags I’m carrying.
This looks like quite the grand gesture, he says, grinning widely.
I never asked what the plan was. Matthew only told me it was something important related to love.
Are you planning to propose? Quite the feminist move, I’d say.
In all my twenty years working here, I’ve only ever seen eight of those.
Oh, that’s not it, I reply. I have something big to make up for. I follow him toward the capsules.
Charlie gives me a curious look, but doesn’t ask any more questions.
I’ve only been on the London Eye once before: during a school trip in grade 11.
With a smile, I remember my school picture that year, nearly blinding the photographer with my brace-faced grin.
The starring feature in that picture was definitely the neon pink elastics on my braces—a perfect colour clash for my red hair.
I still don’t quite understand how my parents let me walk around like that for six weeks.
Well, in you go, Charlie says when we arrive at the capsule, opening the doors to let me in. The Eye is all yours for one full rotation. Good luck, lass. He turns away, heading for the control room with all its little buttons and levers.
I look around. I’m surrounded by glass that’s wrapped in a grid of white metal.
Across the doors, a red bar reads DO NOT LEAN AGAINST THE DOORS.
I lay out my things on the wooden oval bench in the middle of the capsule, then set down the candles, lighting them one by one.
My pillows end up on the bench, too, and I set up the speaker off to one end of the cabin.
Next, I pull up a Valentine’s playlist on Spotify and link my phone to the speaker.
I proudly take in the resulting scene. With the sound of Ed Sheeran’s Perfect filling the cabin, I glance down at my watch.
It’s 7 o’clock. Val is never late. Matthew was supposed to lure him here, but what if it didn’t work?
My heart begins to race as I look around.
What happens if he says no? What if this is all way too cheesy for him? What if . . .?
I spot two figures wandering onto the London Eye pier and my mouth goes dry.
My heartbeat feels frenetic inside my chest and my fingers are tingling.
As they get closer, Val’s face comes into clear focus.
His hair is tousled and his grey eyes flit in surprise between Matthew and the enormous, iconic wheel.
The two of them look like they’re coming straight from the office.
I spot the exact moment that Val recognizes me.
His eyes go wide as his jaw drops. When he stops abruptly, Matthew smacks right into him.
He seems oblivious to the collision, though, and I notice his Adam’s apple bouncing wildly as he bites his lip in hesitation.
And then he slowly starts to come my way.
Without ever taking his eyes off my face, he steps into the capsule, coming to a halt right in front of me.
The musky scent of his aftershave filters in through my nose and for a moment I close my eyes, drinking in his scent.
Hannah? he says, fully in disbelief. Hannah, what is all this?
The doors of the cabin glide shut and I feel us slowly pull up from the ground. No going back now. This is it. Looking at him, I draw in a deep breath.
I’m in love with you, Val, I say, looking straight into his eyes. I notice he’s still staring at me incredulously while a sparkle of hope sneaks its way into his gaze.
What . . . What do you mean? His eyes flit across my face, like he’s trying and failing to solve a crucial number in a complex Sudoku puzzle.
What I mean, I say with a laugh, is that my heart beats faster whenever I see you.
I mean that I feel like I’m bursting with a kaleidoscope of butterflies.
I mean that I think about you all day long and just can’t figure out how to get you off my mind.
That I want to be with you every moment of every day.
That I’ve stopped giving a crap what other people might think.
That I want nothing more than to fall asleep next to you and wake up by your side.
Val’s expression softens with every word spilling out through my lips and the look he gives me warms every fibre of my being.
And . . . I continue. Should I keep going? This is it. You are it.
I gaze at him expectantly as he bridges the last bit of space between us. His lips are so close now.
You had me at the first line, he grins, before pressing his lips tenderly against mine.
Our capsule continues to climb, higher and higher, and when we break our kiss, we find ourselves overlooking a London that’s sprinkled with lights.
It’s magical. The windows below us, glowing with warm light, look like tiny dollhouse window frames.
Big Ben’s spiked tower roof is in plain view, covered in a shimmering white layer of snow.
The lampposts lining Westminster Bridge light the way for black cabs racing by. It’s stunning.
Val steps in behind me, wrapping his hands around my waist as we take in the view. He kisses my neck, my cheek, then settles his chin on top of my head.
Thank you, Hannah, he whispers, as Eric Clapton’s Wonderful Tonight begins to play. This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.
I turn around and fling my arms around his neck, staring deep into his eyes. I let my fingers curl into his silky hair and bite my lip.
This is—
A high-pitched squeal fills the cabin and we both look up, wide-eyed, at the smoke detector, its little red light blinking furiously. The Eye comes to a ragged stop, all the lights go out, and everything goes quiet for a moment, followed by an angry voice spilling out of the speakers.
You twits! Charlie yells. You lit candles in there?! You couldn’t take a hint from the NO SMOKING sign?
Startled, I look down at the dozens of glowing tea lights I scattered around the floor of the pod.
Shit! I’m sorry! I yell at the speaker, not sure if Charlie can actually hear me. In a frenzy, I start to blow out the candles.
The man lets out a heavy sigh. No idea, Matt, I hear him mumble to Matthew, before addressing us again. I’m going to look into this. Don’t panic.
The intercom channel shuts off with a click and I look up at Val, my eyes wide. He’s trying his best not to burst into laughter.
As the minutes pass by, we settle into the pillows I brought along.
With the lights out, the view is extraordinarily beautiful.
I feel like I’m in a movie: trapped in the London Eye with the most stunning view you could ever hope for and with the most amazing man by my side.
He leans in to kiss me and his lips follow the line of my jaw toward my neck.
His hands caress my thighs and knead my ass.
Flipping my right leg over his thighs, I straddle him, deepening our kiss.
His fingertips tangle into my curls and he tugs me close to him.
And then his hands trail down my neck to my breasts, to the waistband of my pants.
I start to move against him, grinding my pelvis into him.
When a moan escapes from his lips, I capture it with my mouth on his.
I slip my hands under his shirt and trace the lines of his hard muscles with my fingers.
My heart is beating uncontrollably, and my breath quickens as he kisses my neck.
I feel the soft friction of the cotton pillowcases beneath my knees.
This is the most romantic, most perfect—
Um, kids? I’m afraid to say the security cameras are still operational, despite our current technical difficulties . . . Perhaps something you want to keep in mind? Even through the intercom, it’s clear that Charlie is trying to stifle a laugh, while Matthew completely loses it in the background.
I feel Val’s mouth tip into a smile against mine, and I lean back a little.
There’s a delighted twinkle in his eyes and we both break out howling.
Bellies shaking with laughter, we flop back into the pillows and stare up at the sky.
The first stars of the night are visible up there.
I’m smiling so wide that my cheeks tense up as I gasp for air.
When we’ve regained our composure, Val shakes his head, his eyes still sparkling with joy. I can tell he’s thinking about something that’s making him smile.
What is it? I ask curiously.
He looks at me, holding my gaze for a moment. Oh, nothing, he replies. It’s just . . . You set the bar pretty darn high for any future marriage proposals.