“Where do you see yourself in five years, Tessa?”
I smile. “That’s easy. Co-owning a fabulously successful bar named Captain’s with multiple locations.”
Ryan’s cheeks flush. “And... in your... personal life?”
My heart lurches into my throat. I know exactly where I see myself in five years in my personal life—married to Ryan with a baby or two—but there’s no effing way I’m gonna say that after such a short amount of time together, no matter how enthusiastically the man just declared his love for me. “Um, you first,” I choke out.
Ryan chuckles to himself. “Damn, I love how predictable you are sometimes, Argentina—it’s like we choreographed this conversation.” He takes my hands and looks into my eyes. “In five years, I see myself married to you. I see us changing two sets of diapers with more babies on the horizon. I see us sitting down for Thanksgiving at my parents’ house and going to football games on Sundays and soccer games on whatever-the-fuck-days they play soccer. And I see us making love every night, sometimes as me and you, sometimes as Ulysses and Samantha—and maybe sometimes as characters we have yet to create—but always, always lighting the world on fire. I see myself loving you, and protecting you, and making your happiness in life my top priority. And, most of all, I see myself as the luckiest man alive.”
My jaw is hanging open. My heart is medically palpitating. My eyes are full of tears.
“Do you see any of that, too?” he asks softly.
I nod.
“How much of it?” he asks.
I can barely speak. “All of it.”
Ryan exhales like the weight of the world has just been lifted off him. “Thank God.” He takes a deep breath. “Then, in my opinion, we shouldn’t wait to get this show on the road. Do you agree?”
I open my mouth and close it, not quite sure what he means. Because if he means he’s gonna... Wait.No. Please, God, don’t let him do it now. I haven’t even introduced him to my family yet! I couldn’t possibly say yes to Ryan without my family’s blessing, no matter how much I love him! Shit, shit, shit! “Ryan,” I gasp. “Wait.”
Ryan touches my cheek. “Ssh.”
“But Ryan,” I persist. I want to tell him my ultimate answer is going to be yes—of course—but that my father is traditional and I don’t feel comfortable leaping into any kind of official arrangement without certain respects being paid. I want to tell him not to ask me yet because I never want to say no to him—Oh, God, never!—but that I can’t possibly—
“Tessa,” Ryan says. “I can see your mind is racing, baby.” He chuckles. “It’sokay. I’m not gonna ask you right now. I’m not stupid.”
I exhale with relief.
“I know certain things have to be done before we get there, don’t worry.”
My entire body relaxes.
“And I also know you’re probably gonna need some time to ‘process’ before you can say yes to me. So, just to get you mentally prepared for when I eventually pop the question, whenever that’s gonna be in the future, no rush, I’ve prepared a little Power Point presentation to help you with your ultimate decision-making.”
“APower Point?” I ask.
“A Power Point,” he says matter-of-factly. “Now, come on, have a seat over here and watch my presentation and hear me out.”
I freeze, suddenly worried he’s gonna ask me now, even though he just said he isn’t.
“Sweetheart,” he says, pulling me up and guiding me toward a chair near a white wall. “I’m not gonna ask you anything yet. I’m gonna show you a silly little Power Point, just for fun. Okay? Now, please, have a seat and keep an open mind.”
68
Ryan
Tessa looks around at the empty bar as she takes a seat. “You rented this place out, didn’t you? I can’t believe it could possibly be this empty by chance.”
I wink. “I thought we could use a little privacy. Hey, let’s get you a drink while I get my Power Point set up.”
“You’re seriously gonna show me a Power Point presentationhere?”
“Yup.” I signal the bartender and he comes over to take Tessa’s drink order, and as he gets her situated, I quickly set up my laptop and a projector, and place two previously stowed bowls on the bar.
Once everything’s all set up, I grab the small remote for the projector, position myself like a professor next to my “screen” (a white wall I’ve cleared of framed posters), and turn to face Tessa. “Okay, sweetheart,” I say. “Please watch my presentation without commenting. Any thoughts, questions, objections, or stressed-out reactions may be offered at the end. Okay?”
