42. Kent
After fourteen exhausting hours, I finally land in San Francisco.
I couldn’t exactly ask Dad to use the jet after what happened, so I rode in coach.
It’s already tomorrow back in London. Here in California, the evening’s still young.
My entire body buzzes, emotionally and physically drained from the day.
And everything hurts from being scrunched into such a tiny space for so long.
The moment I said my peace, I knew I had to come and find Liz. There’s so much more that needs to be said. I hope I’m not too late. With my carry-on in tow, I head straight for Ground Transportation and find a yellow taxi. My hands tremble as I read off Liz’s address.
Will she give me another chance? Will she even open the door to hear what I have to say? I’ll sleep outside her door if I have to. I’ll do anything to prove to her that I’m ready to be a real man. Her man.
The cab pulls up to her place, and I gaze up at the modern building on Market Street before paying the driver.
Stepping out into the fresh, cool December air, I give my face a brisk rub, pop a fresh mint in my mouth, and pray that she’s home.
Determined to make this work, I march to the entrance—and stop.
There’s only one little problem. I can’t get into the building. Damn.
There’s not even a doorman here I can plead with. My shoulders sag. I’ve confessed to everyone, humiliated my father, been sacked from my job, flown across the globe, and now it’s come down to this locked door and me.
But Kent Bonnaire doesn’t back down easily.
There’s an electronic pager pad. I search her name, but for some reason, nothing comes up. Am I at the right place? I step back and stare up the building to the top floor. Is this the part where I scream her name in hopes that she has an open window?
In December? Yeah, right.
I cup my hands around my mouth, ready to call her at the top of my lungs like fucking Romeo when someone walks up to the door. I strain my eyes, watching him type in a code on the keypad. The door clicks open and he gestures for me to come in.
“Thanks, mate,” I say and walk in behind him. Perhaps a guardian angel is looking after me.
I peek at my phone once more, double-checking her apartment number. My heart pounds as I ride the lift up to the fourth floor. For the first time since I left my father’s, I have a moment alone. A moment to gather my thoughts, my words, and my feelings.
But it’s not long enough.
The lift dings, and the metal doors open.
Down the hall, I find Liz’s place—408. My hand shakes a little when I raise my fist to knock.
But I feel a rush. I’m about to tell the first woman I’ve ever loved that I can’t live without her.
The pitter-patter of footsteps shuffles near the door, and a moment later, I’m face-to-face with her.
My darling, Liz.
“Oh, my God. Kent!” Liz covers her mouth, looking like she’s seen a ghost. “What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I came for you.”
“You did? Why?” Her tone is soft, and all I want to do is scoop her up in my arms and never let her go.
“Because you were right. I need to grow up,” I say, and she just stares at me.
“I was hoping that’s what happened when you left me that voice message.”
“Yeah, I told the truth to my dad. To everyone,” I say.
Liz’s eyes fly wide open. “You did? What happened?”
I huff a laugh, though it’s not very funny. “I lost the promotion and my job.” Stepping closer, I push a strand of red hair away from her face. “But I did it all in hopes I wouldn’t lose you too.”
Her expression softens, and her eyes flutter closed as I brush her cheek. “I’m proud of you for standing up to your dad. For coming clean,” she says, and I don’t think she’s the only one who’s proud. “So what happens now?”
I take another step closer. “Well, for starters, I’m going to start my own shop. And SOLIDS will be my first investment. That is, if you’ll have me.”
Then, I see a glimpse of that sparkle in her eyes. “Of course, I will.”
“Good. I appreciate the chance to make good on my promise.”
She leans against the door frame. “So where are you going to get the start-up capital?” Funny, I’ve come all this way, and she wants to talk business. But I can’t be surprised. It’s her first love and mine.
“The penthouse. I’m selling it. And the wine collection too.”
She gasps. “You can’t sell the wine collection.”
“Sure, I can. I’ll be here after all, so close to wine country.” I’m happy to give up my stellar cellar to build a new one here with Liz.
“Here? As in San Francisco?” she asks.
“Yeah, so I can be near you.” I caress her soft cheek with my thumb. “I love you, Liz. That’s what I came here to say. I’m in love with you.”
Her eyes puddle with fresh tears, but they seem to evaporate in the warmth of her smile. I slide my arms around her waist, pull her in, and kiss her, thankful I trusted my gut on this one.
“I’m in love with you too. Thank you for doing the right thing, for traveling thousands of miles to tell me that.” She hugs my waist, leaning her head against my chest.
I stroke her hair and kiss the top of her head, relief washing over me. And I quickly learn that the only thing better than being in love with a woman is the love she gives back.
“I brought you something, Darling,” I say, pulling out a pair of pink fuzzy socks I picked up at the airport gift shop.
She giggles. “I love them. And I love it when you call me Darling.” She takes them out of my hand and kisses me slowly, softly, as if she’s drinking me in. I do the same. I could sip on Liz forever.
“Well, then, Darling, I have a question for you,” I say, our lips hardly parted from one another.
Her dreamy gaze sparkles at me. “What’s that?”
“What are you doing New Year’s Eve?”
Thank you so much for reading A Billionaire’s Proposal!