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“Did you really do it for me?” Maximoff wondered. Charlie paused for a moment. “Yes and no.” He shrugged. “I hated Ernest, and I wanted him gone. But also…the company is yours. You should have never been fired in the first place, and it would have been a tragedy not to course correct.” Maximoff hugged him, and they kept hugging for a long beat. Farrow and I shared an eased look because our clients were at peace with each other.
“How sweet of her,” I smile brighter. He contains another laugh. “She outdid herself this time.” I pick up a glazed sugar cookie. Orange icing is piped to resemble a glass of orange juice, and she scrawled the words, Highveira, in neat pink. Our ship name.
All because of one video. Just one changed everything. Paparazzi caught footage of Oscar spinning around my baseball cap and kissing me. We were grinning, and I might’ve slapped his ass. People decided that one was “authentic”.
All the Hales, Meadows, and Cobalts are here today, some strewn in other boxes. Some seated in the orchestra section. Leo Valavanis is out sick, and Beckett is filling in as Romeo for maybe the only time all season. My parents are also here. And my brother. Along with Oscar’s family. They’re shadowed in the darkened theatre. All in their own boxes, watching the ballet. Waiting for the end.
Oscar finds her first. He leans forward and whispers, “Roxanne Ruiz. She’s eighteen.” Charlie just turns forward, but I catch his smile.
Jesse waves to me from one of the emerald couches. My mom already removes her tissues from her Louis Vuitton purse. The Oliveira family turns more to view us in the middle. Farrow, Maximoff, Ripley, and Jane and Thatcher have stopped talking, programs in their hands as they face us. Even the Calloway sisters and their husbands watch. Oscar’s brows furrow. He notices. He’s too observant for this charade to last long.
“Oscar.” “Jack?” The sucker is still in his mouth. I smile like the next words exist deep inside me and have wanted to be set free for so, so long. “I was never rewriting my life when I met you. There was no rewrite, Oscar, because this is how it was always supposed to be written. I am supposed to be with you. You are supposed to be with me. Nothing else makes sense.”
“Oscar Felipe Highland-Oliveira. I love every part of who you are.” I take his hand in mine and pull out a ring from my pocket. “Will you do me the honor of staying married to me?” A collection of whispers sweeps the lobby, but I’m lost in Oscar’s reaction. He falls to his knees, throws the sucker over his shoulder, and takes my face in his hands. “Yes,” he says. “You’re my everything Jack.”
When he pushes the cold band along mine—it feels real finally. Married. Jack Arizona Highland-Oliveira.
Farrow hugs Oscar and says with a grin, “You sneaky fucker. How the hell did you already marry him?” Donnelly shakes Oscar’s shoulders, and the rest of SFO congregate around my husband. His brother and sister bound closer to him with their own grins and praises.
Oscar raises a hand. “Alright, alright! We’ll tell you all how Highland and I got hitched once we’re back at the penthouse.” He glances to Farrow. “You are throwing us a post-elopement engagement party, right?” Farrow grins. “I’d ask you how you know but—” “I’m always ten steps ahead,” Oscar finishes.
“Sulli wants to start free-soloing all her dad’s old routes,” I tell him. Sulli announced this plan to her family yesterday at her dad’s birthday party. The reaction was heavily mixed, not everyone in full support of her new goal. She’s free-soloed before but conquering every mountain that Ryke Meadows has scaled (with no harness, no rope) is lofty and dangerous. It even freaks the fuck out of me.
His hand is on his head, shocked. “You’d want to be on camera? Why?” There is only one phrase that makes sense. Only one that comes to mind. “Basta ikaw,” I use his words now and translate, “as long as it’s with you, because it’s you.”
He’s about to talk when the stairs suddenly creak. Our heads turn as Sulli walks into the basement. No one else behind her. Everyone is looking over at Sullivan Minnie Meadows. The corner of my mouth inches up, just slightly. Seeing Sulli stick up for herself tonight and draw boundaries was hot. Even if her anger was partially directed at my friend.
Maximoff gestures to Farrow and tells his cousin, “He’s about to pierce Oscar’s nose.” “Really?” She walks further in. “Do you know how to?” “Yeah, do you know how to, Redford?” Oscar says, not sounding nervous. Donnelly smirks.
Akara reaches out. “Let me, Sul—” “I’ve got it,” she snaps. A smile pulls at my mouth, and I almost laugh. Alright, I actually laugh. Fuck it. She looks more confused at me. “You’ve gotta stop giving Akara a hard time, mermaid. That’s my job.”
Akara isn’t her “bro” as much as he’s in denial and thinks he is, and I definitely don’t see her as one of the fucking guys.
I tell her, “We like you here.” I put a hand on the back of her head, just for a short second, and a breathy noise ejects between her lips. Her chest falls and rises, and her green eyes flit from me to Akara. Like she just realizes she’s standing between our towering builds.
glance down her body. Fuck me. My muscles flex, and I look to Akara out of the corner of my eye. He sees what I see. Her nipples are hard.
Akara glances at her nipples, then nails a death-glare into me. Like I turned her on. Mother of Christ, I didn’t arouse her on purpose.
“Want me to get you a jacket?” I think she’s going to say something like, I want you to stop looking at my tits. Instead, she shakes her head and her eyes noticeably plant on our crotches. Trying to see if we have boners. Her brows scrunch, confused again.
“Right, I figured it’d be, you know, P-in-the-V action.” She pauses and frowns. “That’s actually not entirely fucking true. I did think that maybe it’d be security related. Like cuffing someone and…” Her eyes ping between us and she avoids our gazes again, her neck flushed. “Um…I’m going to…” She jabs a thumb behind her shoulder. Towards a wall. “Disappear into the wall?” I tease. She glances back there. “Fuck…um, no. I meant…you know, I don’t know what I meant, but…” Her eyes widen like she’s a hot second from running away.
She glances at me, like she’s remembering what I whispered against her ear at the bar. I told Sulli, “Akara would never hurt you. He just did what he thought was right. And you can try to shove me back all night, all day. But I’m seven-inches taller and can throw you over my shoulder.” Ever since I said that last part, she’s been looking at me like she wants to competitively test that.
