That’s a lot of demi-gorgons.
But it’s not as bad as my constant spiral of thoughts about Lyra.
I was so caught up with her on the date that I never told her the important stuff. That I love her. That I want a future with her.
That I want to be with her, whatever that looks like.
I know she loves Chicago and if she wants to stay there, I’ll have to look at relocating, at least part of the time. If she wants to live somewhere else, we can look at places together. I love what I do for the royal family, but I can still do that remotely.
There’s a lot of options for us, and while the storm beats down, I go through them all.
I can’t wait to talk to her about them.
But finally, the sun rises without the cloud cover and the rain stops. I track down Rue as soon as I wake up and I don’t find any roses outside the door.
“I need to see Lyra today,” I demand.
“You and the rest of the hotel,” she says, studying her tablet. “She’s unavailable for today.”
“What do you mean, she’s unavailable? Is she okay?”
“I don’t know yet, and she’s fine. Oh, wait—this is for you.”
“What?” I try and see what’s on her screen but Rue holds it to her chest.
“A text from Grayson. You’ll get the evening part of your date that got rained out tonight, so be ready for seven.”
“I have to wait until then?”
Rue smiles. “Enjoy your free time.”
I don’t enjoy it.
But eventually, seven o’clock arrives and I’m ready in the lobby, wearing my best suit. Instead of a car to take me to meet Lyra, Grayson shows up.
He looks a little ragged, with shadows under his eyes, but still dressed in his hosting jacket.
“Hey, Spencer. You make it through the storm okay?”
“What’s going on with Lyra?” I demand.
He laughs. “You’ll find out soon enough. She’s here, actually. She’s waiting for you at the side of the hotel. You ready?”
“Yes.” I turn, about to hurry away, but Grayson puts a hand on my arm.
“We’re still on camera, so slow down a bit. She’s not goinganywhere.”
Lyra is waiting for me on the catwalk from the wedding dress date. And like that day, she takes my breath away when I see her.
The sun is setting, the sky a rainbow of orange and pinks, and giving Lyra the perfect background. But it’s Lyra who overshadows the sunset, wearing a cream-coloured gown that hugs, caresses, even molds to her curves like the best kind of athleticwear.
When I get closer, I notice there are little beads sewn onto the dress that would give the hand a nice massage if you rubbed her back.
Not that there’s much fabric on her back.
Her hair hangs past her shoulders, with the sides pinned up. She’s wearing her mother’s sapphire necklace, dipping into the low V-neckline of the dress, as well as a tiara that sparkles in the fading sun.
That’s when I know this is a big deal, because Lyra never likes to wear a tiara.
