Never Really Over (Bremmy 3)

Chapterish 27

A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME

The guys left early this morning. They were barely in LA for 24 hours, but they've had a lasting impact.

I'm not doing this because I was swayed or because I'm scared or because I need to prove any point to Alex. I'm doing it because it's my life. East coast, west coast, north, and south. No sense in pretending I can keep anything separate anymore.

Cece and I leave for NYC in 5 days.

And I propose tonight.

Everything seems brighter on my morning jog. When I get back to my apartment and slip the ring from the box, that looks brighter too. Can't wait to give it a home.

I shoot Miles a sorry text and tell him that something came up and I won't be stopping by Edge today. Instead, I spend the morning and afternoon hammering out the details.

Along the lines of always envisioning Frank Rhodes as my future FIL, I've often pictured Emmy's face when I used to think of proposing. I mean really proposing. Not with a discarded water bottle label ring.

Nope this 3-carat emerald cut is definitely a step up from trash.

Cece is stuck at the studio all day again. She already blew off our lunch date, which actually works better for me. More time to plan and stage.

Being Sunday, Edge closes early at 4 PM. The rooftop isn't open at all. And that's where I'm going to stage it. Rose Petals. Music in the garden. Champagne chilled and ready.

I text Cece around noon to reschedule our lunch date for dinner.

7 good?

Miles will be here too.

That sounds casual right? Miles is usually always here for dinner.

Yep that's fine babe ;)

I stow my phone away and commence errand running. I stop at the corner florist and clean him out of every rose in right. Red. Pink. Some yellow ones. My Jeep smells like a garden all the way to the liquor store. I buy two bottles of Dom, hoping one for each of us is enough.

"Something special?" The clerk asks as he rings me up.

"Hopefully," I nod.

I carry the brown paper bag out to my car and place it on the floor of the front seat. A quick time check tells me it's almost 4 PM. That leaves me three hours to arrange the perfect proposal, sunset backdrop provided by nature.

I arrive at Edge right when Miles and Javier are locking up. They spot the overgrown greenhouse that my Jeep has become and know something is up. The champagne in my hand is not helping hide it.

I spill the beans and share my plan to deck out the rooftop and propose to Cece tonight.

"HELL YES!" Miles fist pumps.

"That's great, man. Good luck," Javier says, clapping my shoulder.

"Thanks guys. Fingers crossed," I laugh.

I climb the stairs to the rooftop, making several trips for the flowers. I peel some petals, and leave some intact, sprinkling the red and pink and yellow roses all over the rooftop.

I put the Dom on ice and start cuing up the song choice. Quicker than usual, the sun sinks below the ridge and the rooftop is bathed in golden pink.

Now that I am at the scene of the almost crime, I have to admit I'm starting to feel the nerves.

My legs feel like they might fall out from beneath me. I see my feet firmly on the ground, but I can't feel any weight on them. This is normal, right?

9/10 normal?

I mentally run through my check list. Roses. Ring. Music. Champs. Roses. Ring. Music. Speech.

Cue mental rehearsal of speech.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I fish it out to see Cece's texts.

Almost there. What's for dinner? Thai? Or Indian?

Tell Miles NO to pizza :|>

So my guise worked. Cece thinks she's having dinner on the rooftop with me and Miles.

One last sweep tells me everything is in place, and one last thought of Alex affirms that this is the right thing. Honest.

Last night was a wakeup call. Cece and I are meant to be. And I'm riding this high –riding it into oblivion if that's where it takes me.

Not like I can go back now. The music is already playing from the surround-sound. Wildest Dreams Classical Instrumental, because it's her absolute favorite. Complements the rose petals 100%.

I hear the door click open and see Cece's wavy hair through the pergola.

Okay, Jay. Show time.