Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Ivy
A few months later
My red-soled shoes click across the marble floors as I gesture to the casino floor, packed with guests.
“As you can see, occupancy has not only remained strong—it’s exceeded all our expectations,” I say to the board members around me.
Marjorie smiles. “It’s good to see. The numbers have been impressive.”
“Revenues are up at the casino. Profits at the restaurants, bars, and clubs are too,” I rattle off as we walk and talk, Russ by my side, scanning the joint.
“And best of all, everyone is talking about the one-night-only engagements,” Jeremy, another board member, adds, clearly pleased with all the progress my sister and I have made with the revamp.
“They are indeed,” I say, since the concert series Stone kicked off has been the talk of the town. We’ve lured other big-name performers, bands, and solo stars, and their shows have been sold-out, must-see events too.
We pass the jewelry box in the lobby, and my eyes swing to it, as they always do.
Beauty, such beauty. I love this sculpture in the midst of this palace of luxury and sensuality.
I love what it stands for, both for my family and for myself.
Home. This place is home. And this hotel has given me a place for my public self and my private one too. A place where I’m whole and happy.
A place I love every day.
Except for the next seven days.
Since I’m taking off for a little well-earned R & R in Paris.
I thank the board members, then make my way to the portico, where Russ escorts me to a waiting limo.
The driver opens the door and Callum emerges from the back seat, looking so damn handsome in slacks and a button-down shirt. No suit, since he’s off-duty.
My gorgeous, caring guy takes my hand, then turns to Russ, saying, “Thanks, Russ. I’ll take care of Ms. Carmichael now.”
“Have a safe trip, Mr. Blackwell.”
“We will.”
I slide into the back seat with the man I love. He stares at me from head to toe, like he’s drinking me in, committing to memory my eyes, my lips, the sapphire-blue dress that hugs my curves.
“You look like a jewel,” he says, brushing a possessive kiss on my lips as the car pulls away from the hotel and onto the Strip.
“You make me feel like one,” I say.
He shakes his head, almost like he can’t believe I’m here with him. Which is absurd, since we planned this trip a few weeks ago. I run my hand along his arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m great. But I can’t wait.”
I furrow my brow. “Can’t wait for what?”
“To get to Paris,” he says, then he moves off the leather seat, bends down on one knee, and takes my hand in his.
“I was going to ask you in France, along the river Seine with the streetlamps flickering and nighttime surrounding us. I waited too long to tell you I loved you, and I won’t wait another moment to ask you to marry me.
I love you with all my heart and soul, Ivy Carmichael, and I want you to be mine forever. ”
My heart soars. It spreads its wings and flies across the sky, doing a loop the loop before it lands in his hands, where it belongs. “I’m yours, always and forever. And I would love to be your wife.”
Twin tears slide down my cheeks as he takes a gorgeous box from the pocket of his charcoal slacks, flips it open, and nearly blinds me.
“The jewelry box in our lobby has nothing on this,” I say, awed by the sparkling diamond solitaire.
“A jewel for a jewel,” he says, then slides the ring on my finger.
I stare at it, loving everything about it, but mostly what it means.
That we’ll be together always. Loving, living, and exploring all sorts of fantasies together. Safely, and with trust.
I reach for him, tug him up next to me on the seat, and kiss the hell out of the man who’s going to be my husband.
Then I go to Paris with my fiancé.
Where we fuck and make love every day and every night.