“You going to be able to get those under control, or should I call for help?” Poppie asked, eyeing her with amusement.
Sophie turned and leaned against her door, the cool surface grounding her well enough to get the giggles under control. “Am I dreaming?”
“If you are, so am I.” Poppie shifted his weight on his cane. “We both heard Ms. Birdie say the same thing.”
“What did we hear?” Sophie whispered, afraid to break the spell of the night.
“I don’t know about you, but what I heard is a fancy designer approached her and wants to feature your boyfriend shirts during Fashion Week.”
“Me, too.” A grin slid through Sophie, spreading warmth and disbelief. “Poppie, I did it. I didn’t settle for anything less than the fairytale. Mom would be so proud.”
Poppie studied her with eyes full of affection, his weathered face softening with paternal pride. “Honey, she was proud of you from the day you were born. Tonight, though, she’d be extra happy for you. Her greatest wish was that you would live a life so full of fantastic moments that authors would write fairytales about you.”
Sophie’s laughter bubbled up again. She pushed off the door and hugged Poppie tightly. “Thank you for everything,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
Poppie patted her back gently, his cane tapping lightly against the ground. “You’re welcome, darling. Now go get some rest. Tomorrow’s a new day, full of more dreams to chase… And who knows, you might find more book boyfriend bachelors in need of being purchased at auction for crazy amounts of money.” His tone only held humor, no admonishment.
Sophie wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed the goosebumps on her arms. “I did go a little overboard, didn’t I?” She still couldn’t believe she’d bid a million dollars on Stone. She hadn’t meant to go that high, but then he’d spoken another line from the book. One he could only know if he’d read the book. A line she’d wanted to believe had been spoken for her alone, and she’d bid an amount that shut everyone up.
“Your momma always said you were special,” Poppie said, wiping a tear from his cheek. “And boy, was she ever right.”
Sophie twitched her nose to keep from crying at the amount of pride in his voice. “You know this means we can live anywhere in the city we want?”
“You can,” Poppie said fiercely. “I’m staying right here. Can’t wait to tell that blowhard landlord I can afford his rate hikes, and he’s not getting his hands on my unit.”
“Poppie,” Sophie said quietly. “Life’s too short to make decisions based on revenge.”
“At your age, there’s a lot of truth to that. At mine, not so much.”
Sophie yawned, feeling the exhaustion of the evening finally catching up to her.
“You’re tired. Get in there and go to bed. We’ll talk about our choices tomorrow,” Poppie said, his voice softening with concern.
“I’m holding you to that, right after I meet with Ms. Birdie in the morning. I should be home by noon.” Ms. Birdie had asked Sophie to brunch tomorrow and promised to let Sophie know precisely how much money her items had brought at the auction.
“By the way, when are you going to collect on that secret you bought?” Poppie asked, swinging his door open and then turning to look at her. “Tonight might be as good a night as any. You could give him a call, ask him over.”
Sophie furrowed her brows. “Not tonight. Tonight has been perfect, and I refuse to make any decision that might ruin that.”
Poppie cocked his head. “Is it that, or are you just not ready to learn his secret? Learn what possessed him to get up there on that stage and save your bacon from the wrath of Frankie?”
Stone had done that.
“I need a moment to let everything sink in,” she said to Poppie. “I want to enjoy this high without complicating it.”Complicated.Man, how she hated that word. In today’s world, it had become the get-out-of-jail-free card one used when they wanted out of a relationship.
“Fair enough,” Poppie said. “Just don’t wait too long. Sometimes, the magic fades if you let it idle until it runs out of gas.”
“I promise I won’t. Goodnight, Poppie.”
“Goodnight, dear.”
She watched him enter his apartment and listened for him to lock his doors.
She let herself into her apartment and triple-locked the door before leaning against the frame, closing her eyes, breathing deeply, and reliving the night’s events—Ms. Birdie’s generosity, the excitement of the auction, the designer, Stone’s expression when he’d spoken his second line, and now the anticipation of uncovering Stone’s secret.
Her instincts told her that while she’d already tumbled over the cusp and found herself amid something wonderfully significant and life-changing, there was another cusp in her near future. The nature of it, she couldn’t be sure. But it had something to do with Stone’s secret.
She pushed off the door and headed to her room. Why exactly had Stone asked her, before the auction began, to have a drink after the event? He’d given her no hint behind the request. Was it to tell her in private he couldn’t live without her so he wouldn’t have to do it publicly?
