DRAMA NOVEL ONLINE P.S. You’re Intolerable: Chapter 41
to find Miles holding the monitor and the others crowded around him, watching the scene happening in the nursery.
“Are you spying on my baby?” I teased.
“Yup,” Miles replied unabashedly. “This is cool as hell. You can just watch your kid whenever you want to?”
“I can. I’m not as neurotic about watching her as I used to be, though.”
Saoirse laughed. “Let me guess, Elliot is?”
I grinned. “He finds it soothing having the monitor close by.”
Luca shook his head. “Yeah, I can see Elliot as a total hover father.” When he realized what he’d said, that he called Elliot a father, he clamped his mouth shut.
“It’s fine,” I assured him. “He absolutely is a hover father, but I like it. It makes me feel not so crazy.”
Miles turned the sound up to listen in on Elliot and Elise talking.
“Can I be Aunt Elise now?”
“Yeah. That’d be all right with me.”
Elise sighed. “I think you should marry her, El.”
“All right, turn that off.” Weston tried to snatch the monitor from his brother, but Miles spun away, cackling.
“I’m going to, El. Don’t worry about that.”
“Oh yeah? When’s that going to happen?”
Luca snuck in from behind Miles and swiped the monitor out of his hand, shutting it off before any of us could hear Elliot’s reply. He handed it to me.
“Sorry,” he uttered, shooting Miles a dirty look.
“It’s fine.” And it was, even though my face was on fire and my heart had expanded ten times. I knew Elliot planned on marrying me—he told me daily I was his forever—but hearing him say it to his sister with such assurance was a whole other ball game.
Weston smacked the back of Miles’s head. “Learn when enough is enough.”
“That’s boring,” Miles proclaimed before turning a contrite smile on me. “Sorry, Kit.”
I picked up my half-full wineglass and waved him off. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”
As I sipped my wine and tried to recover from what I’d heard, I wondered if Elliot had remembered the monitor was on when he was speaking to Elise.
But this was Elliot. He didn’t miss important details.
Of course he’d remembered and known all of us might hear, including me.
I bit down on my bottom lip, and my toes curled. Elliot Levy wanted to marry me, and he made sure everyone important to him knew it too.
The atrium lobby of the Rockford building had been transformed from a sleek, modern passage into a cocktail party venue. When we arrived, finely dressed guests were milling about, waiters carrying trays filled with champagne and hors d’oeuvres weaving between them. Twinkle lights had been wrapped around steel pillars and seating had been arranged in clusters. Sprays of exotic flowers livened up the space, giving it a celebratory feel.
Our group split off, Luca and Weston running into people they knew who wanted to speak with them, and Miles ventured off to find the bar and new friends. Elliot kept his arm around my waist, introducing me to too many people for me to keep straight.
Not that this was a party full of strangers. I’d been by Elliot’s side for over a year as his assistant, so there were many people I had met when I’d accompanied him to his meetings, but this was our official coming out. We were showing in no uncertain terms we were far more than boss and assistant now, and though it was nerve-racking, feeling Elliot’s pride when he reintroduced me as his girlfriend had me beaming like a little loon.
God, I loved this man.
We were speaking to two women who ran a nonprofit that helped the unhoused in Denver.
Elliot slid his palm up to my shoulder. “Catherine was the project manager for a charity that builds houses in impoverished areas of the world. Fair housing is a topic she’s passionate about.”
He winked at me, and I knew he was thinking about me being arrested for protesting my father’s business practices. This man of mine got a kick out of being with a criminal.
I was drawn into the conversation with the women and shared my experience in Mexico and Costa Rica. While I was speaking with them, Elliot signaled he had to go talk to someone else for a moment.
He stayed in my eyeline and kept me in his. Although I was comfortable where I was, it was beyond nice to know he hadn’t forgotten who he was with, even while conversing with other people.
Then, before I knew what was happening, Elliot was at the front of the crowd, a mic in his hand. He’d mentioned he would be speaking for a minute or two tonight, but I’d lost track of time, so the sound of his voice rising above everyone else’s took me by surprise.
I wove through to the front as he thanked everyone for being here tonight and named the people who’d been in charge of bringing this building to life. It was incredibly thoughtful of him to give credit so publicly, but that was Elliot. Always considering the best move.
“There’s one more thing we have to do to give this building its official beginning.” Elliot moved next to the stand, which was covered with a black cloth. “As many of you know, when I finish a project, the last thing I do is stamp it with a new name. Sometimes, it’s easy for me to think of what to call my buildings. Other times, I have to rack my brain or ask for help. This time, it was the former. I’ve known what this building would be called for months. And now, it’s my honor to share the new name with you.”
Carefully, he pulled back the black cloth, revealing a silver plaque with the building’s name emblazoned on it.
Alcott Tower
Oh, this man…the things he did to me.
Tears burned the backs of my eyes. In his own roundabout way, he’d named this beautiful building in honor of me and Joey-Girl since Louise May Alcott had written my favorite book, Little Women. I would have hated to see my own name, or Joey’s up there, and of course Elliot understood that. This was perfect. Just perfect.
Elliot was watching me with warmth, the corners of his mouth pulled up. I smiled back, mouthing, “I love you,” which he returned.
He explained to the gathered crowd that he’d named this building selfishly. “When I pass by Alcott Tower, I’ll always smile. In fact, I may detour this way daily, so if you see me driving past, you’ll know why.”
Without another word, he walked straight to me and took my hands in his. “What do you think?”
“Lovely,” I rasped. “Thank you.”
He stepped closer, dipping his chin. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. It kills me when you cry.”
“They’re happy tears, I promise. This is just so incredibly thoughtful and special.” I pulled my hand from his to pat my damp cheek. “Do I have mascara running all over me?”
He cocked his head, lips rolled over his teeth. He didn’t want to tell me, and that was enough for me to know I looked awful. “It isn’t so bad.”
A laugh burst out of me. “I don’t believe you. I’m going to the restroom to fix my face.”
He walked me to the hallway leading to the restrooms and kissed me before letting me go. I was certain he would have stood there had one of his security team members not been trying to get his attention.
I giggled at his disgruntled expression. “It’s okay, Elliot. Go talk to them. I’ll be fine for a minute.”
His eyes darted back and forth between mine, checking me over himself. “I’ll wait for you near the bar. Come find me when you’re done.”
“See you soon.”
No more tears. I’d done enough crying lately. The rest of the night was going to be all smiles.