$10,000,000 Marriage Proposal Read online

  “It’s okay, don’t feel like you have to say more. That sounds really hard,” said Ivory with real sympathy in her voice. Blue Glasses said nothing, but she nodded in agreement, and she even seemed to have tears in her eyes. Wow, these people were genuinely kind. Why? Where had they come from? What was this all about?

  Chapter 10

  “I lost my job this morning. Literally. I’m on the rebound, so watch out.” All three of the interviewers laughed.

  “So tell us your story,” the woman in the blue glasses said. “A bit about who you are and what brought you here—aside from the job breakup, that is.”

  “Who is Janey Ellis?” Janey joked. “Okay, here goes. I grew up in a little town outside Iowa City. You’ve never heard of it, and that’s why I’m not there anymore. Except at Christmas, which is ridiculously adorable. You guys have no idea. Anyway, I’m a TV producer, which I’m really good at and love even though I got fired this morning. So…consider me unappreciated but good. And make no mistake—I’ll have a couple job offers by the end of the week.

  “But let me ask you something. It seems obvious to me that your boss, Mystery Man, is a reality show waiting to happen, and I’m wondering if you’ve already made a deal for it. In any case, you should hire me! I can pitch on that, if you like. But I also want to say that at the exact same time, I am not-so-secretly hoping to be plucked from obscurity and anointed Mrs. Mystery Man. I’m not proud! I would go on a blind date for zero dollars, so ten million is totally in my ballpark.

  “Whew, I had too much coffee today. After the Bloody Mary. Which I had only because I got fired. I swear to you it’s the first time I’ve ever had a morning cocktail, and I don’t plan to make it a habit. Unless I’m engaged by the end of today, in which case, why stop?”

  Her interviewers had been surprisingly alert when she came in, considering they must have been listening to life story after life story, but Janey was giving them her A game, and now they were laughing. If there was one thing Janey was good at, it was charming a roomful of executives. She could pitch herself as well as any TV show.

  “Well, Janey, you obviously have a lot to offer. If you don’t mind my asking, why are you single?” the cute guy interviewer asked.

  “Long answer or short answer? The long answer has all kinds of details about dating the wrong men for the right reasons and how I am too quick to trust people. It has something to do with Iowa and my parents, who are best friends and never fight. And the shorter answer is that I left my last boyfriend. He cheated on me. Twice. As far as I know.” Janey thought about Sebastian, that bastard. He’d been a hard one to let go. She’d had to delete him from her phone, purge his e-mails, and remove every reminder of him from her house lest she relapse. But now, for her audience, she laughed. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Honestly, if finding true love were my only goal, I would go straight back to Iowa. It’s pretty nice there, and you can take people at face value.”

  Chapter 11

  Suze didn’t slip back into the office until after two, hoping against hope that her colleagues wouldn’t notice, or remember what she’d been up to this morning. As if. She hadn’t even pulled out her laptop when Meredith was already in one of her visitor chairs, tapping her fingers impatiently.

  “Download please. Tell me everything.”

  “It’s nothing, really. I just—”

  Before Suze could continue, Kevin, Emily, and Jeff filed into the office, as if appearing for a scheduled meeting.

  “Go back to the beginning,” Emily said.

  “You guys! I have nothing to report! Will you get off my case?” Suze protested.

  Meredith looked at her watch. “Five hours of nothing? Please. We know you. You’ve never let five hours go by with nothing to show for it,” Meredith said. “What was he like? How old? Handsome? Are you sure he’s for real?”

  “Fine. I met him. He is about my age, around thirty. Very handsome—like a young George Clooney.…” If they were going to be nosy, she’d give them exactly what they wanted. Suze dropped her voice down to a whisper, so that her friends leaned closer to her. “He told me that he had three questions, and that if I answered them to his satisfaction, he would ask me to marry him and hand me a check for ten million dollars.”

  “So much pressure!” Meredith exclaimed.

  Suze was getting into her tale. “I’ll admit, I was nervous. But I told myself that all I could do was answer the questions honestly and to the best of my ability, and if that wasn’t sufficient, so be it. Calmly and politely he asked the first question. It was a simple one. Just ‘Where are you from?’ That was easy, of course.”

  “You’re from Boston, right?” Kevin asked.

  “Right. And then he asked what my favorite hobbies and interests are outside work. I told him about running the marathon, how I love to play the piano but don’t own one, and how when I was a kid, I was kind of a golf prodigy. And I told him I’ve always wanted to learn to fly-fish.”

  “Fly-fishing, that’s brilliant!” said Emily.

  “Genius,” said Kevin.

  “It happens to be true,” said Suze.

  “What was the third question?” Jeff asked. “It’s always the third question that matters.”

  “You’re right, Jeff,” Suze said. “The third question was…” She paused for dramatic effect. “The third question was, ‘Why are your office mates so up in your business?’” There was a moment of silence as they all realized she’d made up the whole thing.

  “You didn’t even meet him, did you?” said Jeff.

  “Nope,” Suze said. “Now will you let me get back to work?”

  “So that’s it? You’re out?” Meredith said. “I can’t believe it. Did you get to see who he picked?”

  Suze’s pride prickled at the assumption that she hadn’t been chosen. “Actually, I think I’m still in the running. The finals, or whatever. I was invited to go to his home this Sunday.”

  “Holy moly!” said Meredith. “That’s huge. You could win this! Ten million dollars! Oh, my God.” Then, looking at Suze urgently, she said, “You have to go. You’re going, aren’t you?”

  Chapter 12

  Caroline felt wired when she left the interview. It had been unexpectedly fun—like a date that had gone particularly well. There was a sense of hope and anticipation. What would come next? Her enthusiasm was only slightly dampened by her mother. She had barely put the car in Park when Isabelle and Brooke surged from the house into the driveway, demanding to know what had happened.

  “You were gone all day!” Brooke said. “Did you win?”

  “No, sweetie,” Caroline said.

  “What? That’s ridiculous,” Brooke said.

  Her mother scowled in disappointment. “Who did they pick? Did you even have a chance to sing?” Isabelle pursed her lips. “It’s not that you’re lacking, Caroline. It’s that you don’t sell yourself. Did they give you a contact number? I would like to call—don’t worry, sweetie, I won’t embarrass you, but they do owe you an explanation.”

  “Mom, there were, like, two thousand other women there. They don’t owe me anything.”

  “You always did give up too easily. You have to fight for what you want. Haven’t I taught you anything?”

  “Can you please just tell us what happened?” Brooke asked.

  “If you let me get out of my car,” Caroline said.

  She was starving. She started fixing herself a turkey sandwich and filled in her mother and sister on the strange, strange day.

  “Like I said, there were lots and lots of women there.”

  “Leggy blondes?” her mother said. “If that’s what he wants, then good riddance.”

  “Exactly what you’d expect. But I was among a group of about forty who were asked to interview.”

  Isabelle’s face immediately transformed, her eyes now bright with expectation. “You did it, baby! You got called back! I knew you could do it if you really, really wanted it. I’ve always said
that if you just set your mind to success—and maybe had a little work done—”

  “So when is the callback?” Brooke asked.

  “Actually, they already interviewed me, so it might be over already. They didn’t say anything about another meeting. I don’t really know where I stand.”

  “Jerks,” Brooke said.

  “No, actually, that’s the weird part. The interviewers were shockingly normal. They seemed to really care about who I was as a person, not just what I looked like or whether I’d make an ideal wife. They were—I don’t know—likeable, even after conducting who knows how many interviews. Prince Charming, whoever he is, has good taste in people. It made me kind of curious about him.”

  “If he has such good taste in people, how come he can’t find his own girlfriend all by himself?” Brooke asked.

  “Good point,” Caroline said.

  “Is there a contact number?” Isabelle said. “We really should follow up. I’m going to check in. Find out your standing.”

  “Mom, please don’t,” Caroline said.

  “No, Mom,” Brooke said at the same time.

  Isabelle pursed her lips in frustration. “I’m not going to just sit around and wait.”

  “That makes three of us,” said Caroline.

  Chapter 13

  The meeting was set for 10:00 p.m. Suze was uncomfortable with the timing. Why so late? What made this a safe situation? She’d signed a nondisclosure that required her to keep every element of this meeting private, but she wasn’t an idiot. She put Meredith on call. The deal was, if Meredith didn’t get a text from Suze by midnight, she was authorized to open the fingerprint-locked e-mail Suze had sent her with all the confidential information. Thanks to a technology Redfield had invested in, Suze would then receive an automatically generated text. If something went amiss, not only would Meredith have the mystery man’s address in hand but Suze could use the autotext as proof to him that the police were en route. She was certainly curious enough at this point to agree to a meeting at a Bel Air mansion late at night, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

  The car dropped Suze off at the end of a long, gated drive. There was a cobblestoned cul-de-sac, well lit, with two architectural olive trees in the center. The house was sprawling but traditional, with nothing showy or oversized. An understated mansion. The entrance was warmly lit, making the late hour less creepy, and the wide front porch had powder-blue Adirondack chairs on it, a bit askew, as if someone actually made use of them. Suze noticed, as she rang the doorbell, how utterly quiet everything was. There was no traffic up here in the hills. No neighboring houses within sight. No sign of any other finalists. She nearly double-checked the address, but the millionaire’s car had brought her here. It had to be the place. Maybe everyone was out back. Or maybe she was here alone. Or maybe this was a test and she was being watched right now. She reflexively reached into her bag to touch her phone. It was her safety line, one that would work even if she couldn’t access it.

  A woman in blue glasses opened the door. “Suze! Welcome. I’m sorry it took me so long to get to the door. This place is big! Frankly, I’m a little winded after walking from the library.” She ushered Suze in. “By the way, my name is Alicia. Congratulations on making it to this stage.” This stage, Suze noted. She hadn’t won yet.

  As she talked, Alicia led Suze to the left, down a wide hallway. They passed a large formal living room with a wall of sliders opening out onto a well-lit backyard. There was a dining room with an obscenely long table and several paintings that certainly belonged in a museum. They turned again, into another wing—the house seemed to be U-shaped, with a courtyard in the middle. The rooms along this hallway were clearly more lived in: First there was a comfortable game room with a pool table, bar, and a few retro pinball machines. Then they came to a library with floor-to-ceiling built-in bookshelves, overstuffed reading chairs, and a wide antique desk.

  “Please have a seat here,” Alicia said, directing her to one of the chairs. “What can I get you to drink? A glass of wine? Coffee or tea? Water? Whatever you want.”

  “Just water is fine, thanks,” Suze said, then thought better of it. This wasn’t a business meeting! It was a date—or if all went well, it might turn into one. “On second thought, a glass of red wine would be perfect.”

  “You got it,” Alicia said. “And don’t worry if it takes me a little while—the kitchen is at least a mile away.”

  Suze waited. This had to be Mr. Moneybags’ house, right? It certainly fit the bill. Was he lurking here somewhere? Scared to meet her, or just biding his time? She looked around. Was she being observed? Filmed? She stood up and started looking at the books that lined the shelves, pulling out one on Renaissance art. Might as well learn something while she waited. Plus, not to be calculating, but it didn’t hurt to clue him in the minute he entered that she was no bimbo.

  Chapter 14

  Another woman came into the library—Suze recognized her as the woman from the Staples Center who had counseled her to smile at Mr. Moneybags, as if that opportunity would actually someday arrive. Apparently, it now had.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “Alicia had to step away. But I brought you your wine.” The woman lowered the shades on the sliders. “Here, this is cozier, isn’t it?”

  Suze had a thousand questions she wanted to ask, but she sensed she hadn’t gotten far enough to earn that. When entrepreneurs came to Redfield seeking funding, they were expected to make their case, presenting all the information in a coherent and convincing way before Redfield gave them any indication of interest or partnership. Suze knew where she stood. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t worth a shot.

  “How many of us are there at this point?” she whispered to her presumed ally.

  “It’s not a competition,” the woman said. “Not in the traditional sense. He’s not comparing women. He’s just looking for one. The one. It’ll just be a moment. Good luck. And don’t be nervous—just be yourself.”

  Easy for you to say, Suze thought. But the wine was an excellent idea. A few sips in, Suze’s doubts and mild paranoia fled, and she was left to appreciate the luxurious setting and romantic scenario in which she found herself. This was a real-life fairy tale. Somewhere out there was a man. Would he sweep her off her feet? Did she even believe in love at first sight? He seemed to have confidence in this process—otherwise, how could he trust that from it his perfect mate would emerge? She herself had a mental list of what she wanted in a man, but she wasn’t wed to it. There had to be variables; anyone with half a brain knew that.

  Suddenly, without fanfare, a man dressed casually in jeans, loafers, and a pullover came out and sat down across from her. He was in his midthirties, handsome, with a warm smile. Suze felt an unfamiliar combination of relief and disappointment. Here he was at last—the man who had sparked all this drama and speculation, the owner of this dream estate, a person who was willing to spend anything on his search for the right woman. He was certainly more than attractive enough, but now that he was in front of her, Suze felt a vague sense of loss. Gone was the magic of not knowing anything. The mystery of a man who had no features and no form. The unknown had been more intriguing than this real person sitting before her. Suze instantly saw it as a flaw in the process—he’d built himself up to be a god and then exposed himself as a mere mortal.

  “I’m Brendan,” he said. “You must be Suze.” He looked down at a piece of paper. “I know a lot about you from this, but is it okay if I ask a few questions?”

  “Of course,” Suze said. “That’s what I’m here for. And, by the way, hi. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too.” He flashed a quick smile. Not unfriendly, but somehow too businesslike. “Would you be open to telling me about a past relationship—preferably the first one that springs to mind?” He paused, then added, “Maybe it will help for me to tell you why I’m asking, so it isn’t such an open-ended question?”

  Suze shrugged flirtatiously. “Th
is is a pretty open-ended experiment anyway.…”

  Brendan laughed. “I know it. A bit crazy, right? Thank you for bearing with it. Okay, so the reason I’m asking is simply because the way we talk about love says so much about how we see ourselves and what we hope for in life. In some ways we are driven to repeat our relationships. We are attracted to the same qualities. We make the same mistakes. We make choices that are reactions to what we’ve learned in the past. When you talk about an important relationship, it’s a good way for me to absorb all this stuff about you.” There was a sparkle in his eye. “Plus, I might learn the way into your heart.”

  “You just might,” Suze said. He radiated confidence, this man. She could see why he was so successful. Her initial hesitance faded. Brendan was definitely her type. Maybe he was onto a good thing with this elaborate blind dating. She was willing to take it seriously, for now at least. “Okay, so, I’m a serial monogamist. I had a high school boyfriend, a college boyfriend, and a postcollege boyfriend. Approximately four years each. I swear that wasn’t a deliberate plan, even though I’m sort of a control freak. Each of them was, I have to say, a very good match for me. They were all high achievers, like I am, but thoughtful and loving. I really can’t complain.

  “My postcollege boyfriend, Craig, is the one I’m going to tell you about because I really thought we’d get married. We met in business school, and we were both very driven. Just completely and obviously well matched. When we started dating, nobody noticed. Literally. Like they’d assumed we were already together. Plus, he was half Korean, which would have made my mother happy. Not that she gets to decide whom I marry. We were both really hard workers who thought the whole work-life balance concept was completely silly. Love what you do and you don’t need to worry about balance. For the most part.”