He glanced over at Elissa and winked before returning to his script.
“With your support and the money I’ve saved up, I’m going full time. That’s right, after a much needed break, you’re gonna get twice the episodes. A Drink in Time is going bi-weekly as of May first. And who knows? Once I set some new systems in place, I could go weekly.”
He’d worked so damned hard the past two years, pulling shifts at Nopalitos five or six nights a week and putting in at least half-time hours on this podcast. His father had kept to their deal, and Ryan hadn’t seen a penny of his trust fund. It had been slow going, and now his dream was about to become reality. Elissa was so proud of him, of what he’d built.
She helped where she could, especially with the accounting. A little with helping to run various numbers to see which patronage platform would suit the best, making heads and tails of the various ways to monetize. Iz threw in marketing materials whenever they had a few moments. Even Alex contributed—mostly the expensive bottles of booze or pricey foods for some of the episodes.
“Though I am truly, deeply grateful for every single one of my listeners, there is one particular supporter without whom this podcast never would have seen the success it has. She crafted my business plan, held my hand as I figured out the marketing, and files my freaking taxes every year. Elissa doesn’t like the limelight, but I am not going to miss this opportunity to give her a shout out.”
The heat rose in her cheeks, and she studied her toes. Nobody was even watching, they were alone in the apartment. Iz, Alex, Jules, and a few of the DeMarco cousins were coming over in a couple of hours for a celebration. There was chili in the Crock-Pot, beer in the fridge, and Jules was bringing a cake.
“I have to tell you, whatever you believe in—fate, karma, God, Aphrodite, the general universe—it was smiling on me a little over two years ago when she walked into the Sandpiper looking for another man. Long story, maybe I’ll share it the next AMA. And I’d be a fool if I didn’t make it permanent. So, Elissa Wright, will you marry me?”
Wait, what?
Her head snapped up—Ryan set aside the headset and spun around in his chair. He pulled a small box from his pocket and got down on one knee. Nestled in the black velvet was a simple white gold diamond solitaire. Next to it was a matching band with engraved butterflies.
“What do you say, Elissa, will you marry me? If the answer is no, I’m gonna have to re-record that last bit.”
She threw herself at him, knocking him to the floor, and straddled his hips.
“Yes, I will absolutely marry you.”
She kissed him. She loved how their kisses still drove them both wild. She loved how his body reacted to her. She loved how safe he made her feel, safe enough to take these risks together. She loved Ryan DeMarco, and she was not going to turn down the opportunity to spend the rest of her life with him.
He flipped them over and kissed her right back. He slipped the diamond ring on her finger.
“Good. Will you say it on the mic?”
She pushed him off and scrambled for the headset, then pushed record.
“I said yes!” She hit stop and dropped the headset. “Now, where were we?”
Elissa grabbed his shirt and pulled him close. He threaded his fingers through her hair and tilted up her chin, staring into her eyes. His soft brown eyes gleamed with forever.
“I think we were right about here.”
Ryan kissed her again, soft and slow, and Elissa had everything she needed in her arms.
the end
