$10000000 Marriage Proposal Page 7

  She walked back toward her office, passing the huge murals of classic movies that were painted on the vast, windowless walls of the sets. Across from the door to Janey’s office were Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman, cheek to cheek, three stories tall, with Casablanca painted in cursive below them. Janey slipped inside, embarrassed that she cared. It was ridiculous to be disappointed by a man she’d never met. But she did care. How could she be such a go-getter in her career and such a failure in her love life?

  Back at her desk, Janey picked up the envelope and studied the label. It had a processing stamp, presumably from the messenger service. “Elody?” she called out. Elody popped back into the office as if she’d been waiting just outside the door. Janey handed her the envelope. “Let’s track this. I’m not quite ready to give up.”

  Chapter 27

  Suze assumed the letter she’d received was the end of it. She and Meredith went out for a postgame happy hour.

  “Miguel was so down-to-earth—not at all what you would expect from a millionaire. He was a good conversationalist, a good listener. I’ve never told anyone so much about myself on the first date. And the crazy part is that I was so interested in him that I forgot to care about the contest. I just wanted to get to know him better. So when he turned out to be the guy, I felt even worse.”

  “We don’t know anything, though, do we? Maybe Miguel was the guy, maybe that letter is another misleading detail, to protect the real millionaire. Maybe there’s no money at all. Maybe the whole thing was a scam.”

  “I wasn’t scammed—I’m sure of it. I absolutely didn’t release any private information.”

  “Okay, then a fake. For God-knows-what reason. Maybe he gets off on jerking women around like this.”

  “Could be,” Suze said. “But did you see my earrings?” She was wearing the diamond daggers now, and she’d gotten used to the sparkle. It was time she left Craig behind. “If it’s a scam, it’s a pretty elaborate, expensive one. I just didn’t win. It happens. It wasn’t a complete waste of time. I needed to…I needed to let go a little, you know?”

  Meredith raised her wineglass to Suze’s. “Let’s toast to that,” she said. “I’m glad you said it, not me.”

  The next morning Suze was in a meeting, listening to two men pitch their nonprofit: the California Schoolroom. It was an idea she liked—an online clearinghouse where charter schools could pool and redistribute resources—but she knew the executives at Redfield Partners would never go for it. Every time Suze had tried to get them to invest in educational ventures, they’d said no. Still, she was interested enough to hear the pitch.

  In the middle of the meeting Meredith came rushing up to the door of her office, then stopped short when she realized that the visitors’ chairs were occupied. Meredith retreated, but not before Suze noticed what she was holding: another yellow mailing envelope. For the rest of the pitch Suze tried to push aside fantasies of what that envelope might hold. Sure, that generic envelope could be anything from anyone, but from Meredith’s expression Suze guessed—no, she knew—that it was from the contest. But she’d already been rejected. What was left to say? Impatient, Suze broke the news to the California Schoolroom guys as gently as she could.

  “I’m not saying you don’t have a viable product here,” she said. “Personally, I love the idea. But I’ll never be able to sell the partners on it. They want to wait until we hit our fund-raising target for this year before taking on any nonprofits.” Suze ushered them out of the office, then headed straight to Meredith’s cubicle.

  “Where is it? What is it?” she asked.

  “Open it!” Meredith flung the envelope into Suze’s hands.

  Somehow, by the time they crossed the hall to Suze’s office, Kevin, Emily, and Jeff had joined them.

  “What’s it say? What’s it say?” they all clamored.

  Suze sat down and took out her letter opener.

  “Oh, my God, you’re so slow it’s killing me,” Meredith said.

  Suze paused. “Okay, people. I appreciate your enthusiasm. But please realize that this is the second letter I’ve received. The first already informed me that I lost. This is probably another legal document, a coupon for a massage, or some other buy-off. Don’t get your hopes up.”

  “Right,” Meredith teased. “I saw how quickly you ended that meeting. But I’ll be super careful not to get my hopes up.”

  “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to hope for,” said Jeff.

  “Ten million dollars!” said Emily.

  “She already lost,” Kevin, Meredith, and Jeff all said at the same time.

  Suze smiled. “Glad we got that straightened out.” She opened the envelope and pulled out a letter. There was a check attached to it, made out to her, in the amount of $250,000.

  “Oh, my God, what? What is it? Did you win?” Meredith was hyperventilating.

  “I see a check!” squealed Emily.

  “Would this be an inappropriate time for me to say that I’ve always thought we had a bit of chemistry?” said Jeff, so quietly that none of them noticed.

  “Shhh, guys, stop. I still didn’t win,” Suze said, scanning the note. “Nothing’s changed. It’s just that—I’ve been given a consolation prize. Wow. I don’t know what to think.”

  “How much is it?” Kevin asked.

  “It’s…it’s a lot,” Suze said. She carefully put the check in her wallet.

  “Oh, my God, that’s better than winning. You get a sweet settlement, and you still get to go out and fall in love with anyone you want, rich or poor,” said Meredith.

  Suze’s mind was still reeling. It was so much money. What had she done to deserve it? What did it mean to accept it?

  But she thought of the California Schoolroom. This was it—her chance to make a private investment in a company that might change children’s lives. It was as if fate had handed her the opportunity to invest in something she was truly passionate about. She smiled and turned to Meredith. “Can you see if those nonprofit guys already left the building? If they’re still here, bring them back in.”

  Chapter 28

  For the second day in a row there was a knock at the door during breakfast. This time Caroline was too slow on the draw, and her sister came running back to the table with a yellow envelope in hand.

  “It’s for you!” Brooke cried. “Maybe it’s ten million dollars!”

  “It’s not,” Caroline hissed, snatching the envelope away from her and trying to hide it in the newspaper. She was too late. Isabelle stopped making coffee, came over, and pulled the envelope out of its hiding place.

  “What have we here?” she asked. “Go ahead and open it, sweetie, the suspense is killing me.”

  Caroline sighed. She already knew she’d lost, but what could she do? The slight stall was too much for Isabelle. She grabbed the envelope and tore it open. As she scanned it, a look of rapture crossed her face.

  Caroline turned to Brooke. “Mom just found out she’s a guest star on Jay Leno’s Garage?”

  Brooke took the bait. “She won a year’s supply of energy supplements?”

  Caroline said, “It’s from Jesus Christ himself.”

  Brooke added, “Hence the messenger.”

  “Are you ladies quite done making fun of your poor old mother?” Isabelle asked. She handed the letter to Caroline. “Forgive me for caring.”

  Caroline recognized the letterhead on the note—a logo with the initials GM—it was the same as on the rejection note she’d received the day before. But to her surprise, this note politely requested her presence at the offices of Greenfield May. Why? What could this mean? She’d already been notified that Nicholas was not continuing the contest. She turned the paper over. The back was unsurprisingly blank. There was no other information.

  Isabelle had no idea that Caroline had already received a letter informing her that the contest was over without a winner. Isabelle was about to explode with joy. She pulled Caroline out of her chair and, despite meeting complete resi
stance, tried to dance her around the kitchen. “You’ve done it! I’m so proud of you!”

  “Mom—I don’t think—”

  “Greenfield May. You know who that is, don’t you?” Isabelle screeched.

  “As a matter of fact, I’ve never heard of them.”

  Isabelle squinted at Caroline. “When is the meeting? Let’s see if Andre can squeeze you in for some highlights before then.” She grabbed the bagel out of Caroline’s hand. “And why don’t you hold off on the carbs? I’ll get you some celery. Two days can make a difference. It’s all bloat, but who cares.”

  Caroline reread the letter. Why should she go to this meeting? He’d already wasted her time, gotten her hopes up, and, perhaps worst of all, sent her mother down a rabbit hole of fantasy from which she might never return. Why hadn’t this guy just asked a few girls out on dates? Maybe hired a top-notch matchmaker? Caroline was tired of all the over-the-top secrecy and maneuvering. She wanted to hock the diamond studs, find an apartment, and get back to her life.

  But she had to go.

  Chapter 29

  The offices of Greenfield May were in one of the new, hip seaside developments that were starting to take over Venice. As Caroline exited the elevator on the third floor, it occurred to her that her mother, who had reacted to the name of the business, had never explained what it was and why she was so excited by it. And Caroline had failed to google it. Her hand went to her pocket, toying with her phone. Now she was suddenly dying to google Greenfield May, but it was too late. Janey was already sitting in the lobby, gazing at a wall-sized aquarium, when Caroline arrived.

  “Caroline, yay! These fish are supposed to make me calm, but I don’t feel calm yet. I have to quit coffee, don’t I? I don’t know why I’m happy to see you—you’re the competition. I think.”

  “All I can say is I have no idea what is going on,” Caroline said. She also felt kind of glad to see a familiar face. Should she ask Janey if she’d also gotten a rejection letter before this meeting? What if Janey hadn’t been rejected? What if Janey was here as the leading candidate and Caroline was something less? A backup. Heck, for all Caroline knew, Janey was another judge. In which case Caroline wanted to give her a piece of her mind. So she said, “Frankly, I’m kind of over this, and I don’t care if he knows. He thinks we’re at his beck and call. And he already sent me a letter telling me I wasn’t the one.”

  “Me, too!” Janey said. “I actually had to plead my case to get this meeting.”

  “What did you do?” Caroline was impressed. If he wanted a go-getter, Janey was clearly his woman.

  “I realized that at work I fight tooth and nail for projects I care about. I should devote the same effort to my love life, right? If it doesn’t work out, well, I’m used to that. My shows get killed constantly. But I’d like to at least know I made my pitch.”

  Caroline felt an extra swell of nervousness. Should she be fighting tooth and nail for this? How could she fight for someone she’d never met? She envied Janey’s conviction. “So what happens now?” Caroline asked.

  “That’s for him to know and us to find out,” said Janey.

  A door opened and out stepped a woman they both recognized, Alicia of the blue glasses.

  “Hello, ladies. Nice to see you again. Janey, can you please come with me?”

  “Wish me luck,” Janey said with an exaggerated wink at Caroline.

  “Sorry, can’t do that,” Caroline said, laughing. Janey disappeared into the office, and Caroline was left in the waiting room. For the first fifteen minutes she read the news on her phone, looking up with anticipation whenever she heard the faintest noise. Then, as time went on, she got increasingly anxious. What did it mean that Janey had been called in first? Why was this taking so long? Janey must be doing well. Whose brilliant idea had it been to call both of them in at the same time? Maybe she should just give up and go home. After forty-five minutes she stopped caring whether she was being watched or might be busted and finally googled Greenfield May. She began to read the Wikipedia entry: Greenfield May is an investment firm specializing in international—

  “Excuse me, Caroline? Are you ready?” Alicia had silently entered and was standing over her. Caroline fumbled to shut off the phone. Alicia led Caroline past the elevator bank, where Janey stood, tucking an envelope into her bag. Letting Alicia get a bit ahead, Caroline slowed down to whisper to Janey.

  “Did you meet him?”

  Janey nodded. “Ye—”

  Before she could say more, Alicia gestured Caroline forward urgently. Janey whispered a quick “Good luck.” Caroline hurried away, down the hall after Alicia. This was it. She was going to meet the mystery man at last.

  Chapter 30

  It was not Nicholas. The rejection letter had been signed by Nicholas, but the man who stood up to shake her hand introduced himself as Tom Greenfield. He smiled nicely. That was what Caroline noticed first. He looked embarrassed and eager at the same time. He gestured for her to have a seat on the pale linen sofa. It was hard to take it all in. There was Tom, lean and handsome, with green eyes and a slant of dark hair, and the office, with its neutral tones and dramatic art, and the intrigue of the great Greenfield enterprises.

  “Hi, Tom,” she said, laughing and shaking her head. “I have a lot of questions for you.”

  He grinned sheepishly. “I’m sure you do. Fire away.”

  Tom, she was thinking. This is the man I’ve been wondering about, and his name is Tom. He is still a total stranger, but now he has a name. Will it come to be familiar to me, so familiar that it seems there’s always been Tom?

  “Are you definitely you? The mystery man? I mean, I got a letter from Nicholas, and there have been so many interviews that I just need to know—”

  “You’ve reached the end of the line,” Tom said. He smiled again, and Caroline’s heart dipped a bit. “I’m it. I’m sorry for that letter. Those were my words, but I used Nicholas’s name on your letter—and different names on the other letters—because I was counseled to keep my name out of all the correspondence. I know it sounds ridiculous. I mean, it is ridiculous! But as you might imagine, I have my own share of doubts about this process. Thank you for enduring all of it, for being here.”

  Caroline looked around. “I feel like I’m still being interviewed. See my perfect posture?”

  “You’re right. I’m an idiot. No, actually, I had to meet another candidate—”

  “Janey,” Caroline said.

  “That’s right, you two have met. I’m sorry about that, too. It must have been awkward,” he said.

  “It’s okay, actually. We kind of became friends. At least I like your taste.”

  “But I did think—if it’s okay with you—we could get out of here.” He pointed out the window, which had an expansive view of the beach. “It’s better over there.”

  Caroline smiled. Rich though he might be, he wasn’t arrogant.

  Chapter 31

  Venice Beach was wide, a long trudge through sand from the footpath to the edge of the ocean. They were quiet as they walked, and Caroline wondered if they would find their footing once they literally found their footing. Close to the water they came to a vacant lifeguard station. It was picturesque; a rough wooden ramp led up to a platform, in the middle of which stood a tall lifeguard chair. Without needing to discuss it, they headed up the ramp, its surface a relief from the drag of the beach.

  “Is this okay? I didn’t plan this part,” Tom said.

  “Good,” said Caroline. “Not planning is perfect, and this is perfect.”

  They sat at the edge of the platform, legs dangling off the side, arms hooked over the lowest rail.

  “I believe in soul mates,” Tom said. “But not just one. Think about it—all these people find true love, but how many potential mates do they encounter? A few hundred? A thousand?”

  “Four?” Caroline suggested jokingly.

  “There are no perfect mates, but there are hundreds of potential soul mates that you
might never encounter. I believe love is hard to find but easy to recognize. So I tried to improve my chances. And here we are.”

  “Not to fish for compliments, but why me? Don’t get me wrong, I like myself well enough. But I used to—well, my mother used to make me audition for tons of stuff, and I have a track record of not winning. I was never anyone’s top choice.”

  Tom leaned toward her, nudging her a bit with his shoulder. “That. Your honesty. At least, that’s part of it. This wasn’t a game for you, something you wanted to win. To tell the truth, I actually liked that you applied because your mother insisted.”

  “It was for only five hundred dollars! See? I’m a cheap date!”

  “And I might have thought your heart wasn’t in it, but the more I learned about you, the more I thought that you were afraid to let yourself hope. That boyfriend who left you—”

  Caroline covered her face. “Oh, my God, you really do know everything about me.”

  “We’ll even the score, I promise,” Tom said. A cool wind blew off the water, and Caroline pulled her hands into her sleeves for warmth. “I’m going to use that as an excuse to help you stay warm,” Tom said, moving right next to her and putting an arm around her shoulders. “Is this okay?”

  Caroline leaned into him. He was warm. It was more than okay.

  “Speaking of soul mates—I think there might have been real chemistry between Suze and one of her interviewers,” Caroline said.

  “Oh, right!” Tom said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Thanks for reminding me. I’m making a note to myself to put Miguel in touch with her.”