LITMIR.BIZ

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too. Let’s worry about that next year.”

      She nodded. “Yeah, no one watches their weight over Christmas. That’s just rude.”

      Micah shook his head ruefully as he wandered down the hallway. “Just yell out if I can do anything else, princesses.”

      The Christmas carols had finished so I pressed the go button again, smiling as Dean Martin warbled ‘Let it Snow’… Peeking outside, snowflakes seesawed down, blanketing the ground white; I couldn’t wait for the brides to see Cedarwood in all its wintry glory, flashing festively and dusted with soft white snow. Who wouldn’t want a winter wonderland wedding here?

      It was Christmas-card perfect. Warm, welcoming and ready for guests.

      “Anyway…” I dragged myself back to the decorations and took some reindeer bunting from the box. “What happened? Tell me everything…”

      Amory fiddled with a big golden wreath for the front door, bending it back into shape and said, “It’s a long story.”

      “We’ve got time.” She’d try anything to avoid talking about it, and it was totally out of character for her. I’d left her to stew on it, thinking she’d confess when she was ready, but now I felt like she needed a push. Besides, I was worried about her. She wasn’t one to keep secrets.

      She sighed. “You’re going to think I’m slightly insane, really you will, so just pretend I’m not – OK? Keeping in mind I’ve been dating Cruz for just over a year, yeah? Not five years, not ten, not…”

      “I get it,” I interrupted solemnly, noting her downturned lips, the slight tremble in her hands. Amory would try and make the situation funny, or lighthearted; it was her way to downplay things, but I could see whatever it was had obviously affected her.

      “So, Cruz invited me over for dinner. As you know, our dates went inexplicably from twice a week to almost every day – it was all getting very serious quite rapidly. After a month of that he was dropping hints about how settling down really appealed to him, babbling about friends of his who’d just had a baby who was as cute-as-a-button. He actually said cute-as-a-button…”

      “Oh… a baby.” I bit my lip to stop myself from saying anything more. Amory had zero inclination to have children. Less than zero. She was openly opposed to it and had told Cruz early on it was a deal breaker for her. He’d accepted that, not having the desire himself. They weren’t that serious, anyway, or so I’d thought, according to Amory.

      “Right?” She toyed with a length of tinsel. “So, I go there for this fancy, home-cooked meal, he’s got this little table set for two, candles, flowers, soft music, the whole nine yards.”

      I turned the carols down slightly so I could concentrate. “OK, none of that screams weird to me, but keep going.” I’d always liked Cruz – for a Manhattanite, he was more grounded than most, and didn’t bother with the pretensions of big-city living. He was himself, always, a smoldering-eyed, nice guy who showed his love for Amory in little romantic ways all the time. He didn’t get moody about girls’ nights out and gave Amory space when she needed it without question, which she did oftentimes. He understood her work came first, and her friends were like family. When she was having a high-maintenance day, he rolled with it, rueful grin in place, mouth shut against her sudden diva demands. He was a keeper in my books.

      “So I sat there sort of stiffly, feeling a little uncomfortable. The night reeked of change, and I wasn’t sure why. But I could feel it in my bones. He popped the champagne cork and poured. I didn’t even wait to clink, I guzzled it down. And then another.”

      I laughed, imagining her pinched face, her wide-eyed worry as she quaffed expensive champagne like it was water. “Classy.”

      “It gets worse,” she groaned. “He pottered about making the entrée, a fancy ceviche dish that took an age to assemble…”

      I interrupted. “Is he a good cook, though? That’s the big question.” Was I the only one who routinely set smoke alarms off by burning toast? I was easily distracted and the kitchen was a no-go zone for me if I could help it. The only times I tried out my culinary skills were with Mom, and that was only because she tended to avoid cooking altogether.

      “Darling, don’t you remember? Cruz was a chef before he moved to Manhattan. He worked under Jacques What’s-His-Name for about a hundred years before he got dragged into finance by that boss of his with dollar signs for eyeballs – don’t get me started on that guy. Anyway, Cruz was adding these micro herbs to the dish and telling me all about his parents and how much they wanted to meet me, and what did I think about a trip to South America to visit them?”

      “Aw, that’s so sweet, he wants to show you off! A trip to South America sounds totally amazing, Amory!” Cruz was a really nice guy in a sea of maybe-nots. Amory pretended it wasn’t serious but it was obvious to me how much he adored her, and she kept him at bay for reasons I couldn’t fathom. To protect her heart, I suspected.

      She rubbed a hand over her face. “Don’t you think it’s a bit… heavy… meeting them?”

      I frowned. “No, I don’t think it’s heavy! You’ve been dating Cruz for over a year now and that’s a long time, especially in Manhattan minutes. It’s the normal progression of things.” It was exasperating at times being so utterly different to Amory. How could she not see this was a sign of commitment from Cruz? Surely that was a good thing?

      Plumping a candy cane-festooned cushion she said, “Darling, that might be the normal progression of things for people who are willing to settle down, but that’s not me! They’ll expect some perfect Stepford type, won’t they?”

      “What do you care? You don’t normally let anyone intimidate you.” I had the sneaking suspicion she cared more than usual about what they’d think of her because she really did love Cruz, despite trying to act flippant about the whole relationship.

      She folded her arms. “I’m not willing to pretend I’m ready for marriage and babies, just because I’m at the age where it’s deemed I should be. Don’t you see? He’s expecting one thing to lead to the next, and I’m not interested in all of that. Next minute I’ll be pregnant with triplets, and living in a cottage without Wi-Fi.” She shuddered. Amory really didn’t like being without the internet and I had to laugh.

      “I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that. It sounds romantic, like Cruz was trying to show you he’s committed, and most men in New York would run a mile rather than do that. What happened next? Surely that isn’t why you left town?”

      She took a deep breath. “Well, then he circled the table, and bent down. On one knee!”

      I dropped the reindeer bunting about the same time my jaw fell open. “Oh my God, he PROPOSED?”

      Color rose up her cheeks and she averted her eyes. “Not exactly.”

      “What do you mean, not exactly?”

      “Well…” She put the cushion in place on the chaise and then flopped beside it. “Obviously, I freaked out, didn’t I? He knows I don’t want the whole meet-the-parents, marriage-and-children, live-in-suburbia thing. I haven’t kept it a secret!”

      I held up a hand. “But did he or did he not say the words: Will you marry me?”

      She let out a high-pitched squeal. “I don’t know! I blinked rapidly, and pretended I had something in my eye! An eyelash emergency… I told him I’d be back in a minute – I just had to rinse my face…”

      I cupped my mouth and said, “Oh, Amory! You didn’t!”

      “I did, and I went through the bedroom and plunged down the fire escape, and half-ran, half-hobbled off into the night.”

      “The fire escape!” I let out a groan. “Amory! But you’re scared of heights!”

      “I’m

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