The Summer Proposal by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

I heard the smile in her voice. “Just him? Not the birthday boy?”

“Well, if you’re offering…”

Jenna burst into the kitchen. “The caterer is here with the hot food for dinner.”

“Hang on a second, okay?” I covered the phone. “Will you do me a favor and tell them to come in here. I’ll be off in a minute.”

“Sure. I also need you to open more red wine.”

“Okay.”

Once Jenna shut the kitchen door, I took my hand off the phone. “Sorry about that.”

“It sounds like you’re busy. I’ll let you go.”

As much as I didn’t want to hang up, I knew I should. “Alright, yeah. I’ll check in with you tomorrow to see how you feel.”

“Have a great time at your party, and happy birthday, Max.”

“Thank you. Feel better. Get some sleep.”

After I hung up, I paid the caterers and opened a few more bottles of wine. I tried to keep my head in a few conversations, but my heart just wasn’t in it. So when I noticed Jenna going into the kitchen with an empty tray, I followed her.

“How much of an asshole would I be if I slipped out of my own party for an hour or two?”

“Where the hell would you go?”

“To Georgia’s. She’s not feeling well.”

“I was wondering why she wasn’t here. Do you think she’s lying and you want to go over and see if she’s really home or something?”

I shook my head. “No, I believe her. Thought maybe I’d pick up some soup and throat lozenges.”

Jenna smiled. “You really like her, huh?”

“I know I’m going to regret telling you this, but…the only reason I even had people over tonight was because she agreed to come to a party, but she wouldn’t go out with me.”

Her smile widened and she sing-songed her words. “Pretty Boy got turned do-own.”

“Why does that make people so happy to hear?”

“Because it’s entertaining to watch you be treated like a mere mortal—you know, like the rest of us.”

I rolled my eyes. “Will you hold down the fort for an hour or two? Just feed people and liquor them up.”

Jenna waved her hand. “Go.”

I leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Jen.”

As I reached the kitchen door, she yelled after me, “Wait!”

I turned back.

“Take Four with you. Women are suckers for that little guy.”



• • •



I might’ve overdone it.

I’d bought so much crap on my way over that I had to set two of the bags on the floor to knock on Georgia’s apartment door. I’d decided not to call first, which right about now I was second-guessing. The woman didn’t even want to go out with me, and here I was showing up at her building and checking the mailboxes like a stalker to see what apartment she lived in. What had seemed like a good idea suddenly felt a little desperate.

But fuck it, I was here already—and with enough over-the-counter medicines to open a small pharmacy—so I knocked.

Once I did, my heart raced like I was thirteen, alone in the dark movie theater with Amy Chase. What the hell had come over me? I wasn’t sure, but when no one came to the door right away, I debated whether I would knock a second time. What if she was sleeping? I didn’t want to wake her if she was resting. Just as I’d decided to head back home if she didn’t come to the door in the next minute, someone opened the door to the apartment next to hers, and Four started to bark like a lunatic. His high-pitched chirp echoed through the hallway, and the old man who’d stepped out jumped. He was so startled, he nearly fell over. I tried to calm my six-pound guard dog while apologizing.

Then before I could shut Four up, Georgia’s door whipped open.

“Max?” Her brows pulled together. “What are you doing here?”

I bent and scooped up the bags of supplies, holding them like a peace offering. “I brought you some soup. And throat lozenges. And…other stuff.”

She patted a big knot of hair on top of her head. “I look like crap.”

Georgia had on a fluffy pink robe, not a stitch of makeup, and oversized, dark-rimmed glasses that were crooked on her face. Her eyes were puffy and her nose red, yet she still looked beautiful.

I reached out and straightened her glasses. “You look adorable.”

“You’ll get sick.”

“I’ll risk it.” She looked clammy, so I felt her forehead. “You have a fever.”

“I ran out of Motrin.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I came. Can I come in?”

Her eyes dropped down to Four. “Oh my God, he’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I inwardly fist pumped. Nice call, Jenna. I’d have to remember to send her flowers.

Georgia opened the door all the way and stepped aside with her hands out. “Can I hold him? Or maybe keep him forever?”

Or a car. I might owe Jenna a car.

Inside, her apartment was really nice—exposed brick in the living room, a decent-size kitchen with stainless-steel appliances, high ceilings, and not surprisingly, there were flower arrangements all over. It also smelled pretty incredible. I walked to the kitchen counter and started to unpack the stuff I’d picked up at the drug store. Finding the Motrin, I peeled open the bottle and shook out two pills. Then I helped myself to the refrigerator and grabbed a water, twisting open the cap as I walked to the living room where Georgia already had Four on her lap on the couch.