“Leave tomorrow?” he asked, following me into the shower. He shut the door and wrapped his arms around me from behind. I wriggled against him, turning the shower on as hot as I could stand it.

“Oh, shit, I have something on Saturday.”

Nicole had managed to wrangle a cover of Esquire and I had reluctantly agreed. Ever since that Swanky debacle, I loathed photoshoots. But Nicole had made such an issue out of it I had given in.

“It’s going to be a very special occasion,” Brett said. “I have a big surprise for you.”

“What is it?” I demanded. “You know I hate surprises.”

“Trust me.” Brett reached over me and turned up the cold faucet. Brett’s idea of a hot shower always gave me goosebumps. I jumped a little and he kissed me on the mouth. “I love you, Jackie,” he said, looking deeply into my eyes.

That’s when it struck me: Brett was taking me away to propose. There was no other possible explanation. He’d been on the phone to his mother at least three times this week. When I’d asked him why, he mumbled something about her wanting some real estate advice. I would have to feign shock and surprise when he popped the question. My big news about Reiner could wait until after we were engaged. Engaged! No way was I rocking this boat.

Brett finished showering and toweled off. He drew a heart in the steamy mirror with our initials and blew me a kiss before going back into the bedroom. Suddenly, I felt tired and heavy. I made the water hot, squeezed shampoo into my palms, and lathered my hair. Why was I feeling so low? Brett was going to ask me to marry him, for Chris’sake. I should be elated!

I rinsed my hair, then toweled off and dialed Nicole from the bathroom phone. I knew she’d be irate about canceling the shoot. She was constantly hounding me to do publicity and I was sick and tired of her lectures about how I was hurting my career. She picked up on the fourth ring.

“Guess what?” I infused my voice with excitement I was still waiting to feel.

“Who is this?” Nicole asked, froggy with sleep.

“Me, you idiot. Wake up, it’s three o’clock!”

“What do you want?” I heard the click of a cigarette lighter, followed by a deep inhale.

“Well, Mary Sunshine, since you’re being so friendly, I’ve decided not to tell you,” I said, knowing I would tell her anyway.

Nicole let out a laugh, which morphed into a wet cough.

“Pretty,” I said. “You gotta quit smoking.”

“You gotta quit drinking. What are you calling about? Please tell me you’ve got a job.”

“Hold on.” I turned on the fan to cover the sound of my voice. “Brett’s going to propose,” I whispered.

Silence.

“Nicole, can you hear me?”