Page 92 of Protected By My Best Friend's Brother

My heart pounds as he continues, his voice steady but full of emotion. The conference room—my carefully prepared professional space—seems to fade around us, leaving just this moment, just us.

“Every success we’ve had, every innovation we’ve created, has been stronger because we did it together. You don’t just make me a better CEO - you make me a better person. One brave enough to believe in crazy ideas like rubber duck override protocols and human-centered sustainability metrics.”

A soft laugh ripples through the room. I’m vaguely aware of phones recording this moment, of Sophie wiping tears, of our parents holding hands like they’ve been waiting for this forever. My father has encouraged my wildest organizational systems even when others thought they were excessive. My mother taught me that innovation should always serve people, not replace them. Elizabeth Walker, who had welcomed me into their family long before Lucas and I admitted our feelings.

“But what amazes me,” Lucas says, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in that familiar way that always steadies me, “is how you make everything better just by being you. The way you turn chaos into innovation. How you see possibilities where others see obstacles. And also love both the CEO and the guy who still gets nervous before big presentations.”

He releases one of my hands to reach into his jacket pocket, and my breath catches as he drops to one knee before me. The polished hardwood of the boardroom floor must be uncomfortable, I think absurdly, my mind struggling to process the enormity of this moment.

“So I’m doing this here, in front of our families, our team, and even the board because I want everyone to see exactly what I’m choosing. Not just the brilliant analyst who revolutionized our approach to sustainable technology, but the woman who color-codes everything from coffee cups to quarterly reports. Who makes me laugh, makes me brave, makes me real.”

The ring he pulls out catches the light, and I hear my mother’s soft gasp. It’s vintage with modern elements—a classic central diamond surrounded by smaller stones in a contemporary setting. It’s elegant but distinctive, traditional but innovative. It’s perfectly us.

“Emma Hastings, love of my life, creator of chaos, and keeper of my heart, will you marry me?”

Through tears, I see the boardroom has been transformed while my attention was on the presentation. The team has strung tiny lights everywhere, making the space sparkle like stars. My color-coded presentation materials have been rearranged into a heart shape on the conference table. On my presentation screen, more photos cycle through - moments of us working, laughing, and building something meaningful together.

“You turned my quarterly review into a proposal?” I manage, laughing through tears. My carefully planned professional moment has been hijacked in the most perfect way possible.

“Technically,” Sophie pipes up, unable to contain herself any longer, “he turned your entire division into a proposal committee. Why do you think everyone color-coordinated today? We’ve been planning this for weeks.”

“We had a whole tracking system,” Natalie adds proudly. “Color-coded, of course.”

“Emma,” Lucas says softly, still on one knee, still holding my future in his hands. His expression holds a mix of absolute certainty and the faintest trace of vulnerability. “You haven’t answered yet.”

I pull him to his feet, not caring about our audience, professional boundaries, or anything except this moment. “Yes. Of course, yes. Even though you completely hijacked my presentation—”

He cuts me off with a kiss, sliding the ring onto my finger as our families and team erupt in cheers around us. The ring fits perfectly, which means—

“Sophie helped,” Lucas admits against my lips. “Though your dad was the one who suggested doing it here.”

I look at my father, who’s not hiding his tears anymore. His usual stoic demeanor has given way to undisguised emotion. “Really?”

“Where else?” Dad comes to hug us both, his familiar scent of aftershave and coffee enveloping me as he pulls us close. “This is where you two build amazing things together, your ideas become reality, and your color-coded dreams take shape.Seems right that you should start your next chapter here, too.”

Mom and Elizabeth are already discussing wedding possibilities, their heads bent together over Elizabeth’s phone, where Pinterest boards are no doubt being shared. Sophie directs the team in breaking out champagne that was hidden in the supply closet—each bottle wrapped in our division’s color scheme, naturally.

“I can’t believe you all kept this secret,” I say as Lucas pulls me close again. “This team leaks information about lunch options. How did you plan an entire proposal without me finding out?”

“It wasn’t easy,” Natalie admits, handing us both champagne flutes. “Especially with your crazy attention to detail. Do you know how hard it was to explain why we needed your exact ring size for ‘ergonomic keyboard research’?”

“The color coordination was my idea,” Sophie announces proudly, looking extraordinarily pleased with herself. “Though getting Garrett to wear the right shade of blue took some convincing.”

“Worth it,” Garrett says, surprising us all with his uncharacteristic sentimentality. “Though I expect my role asreformed antagonist to be acknowledged properly in the wedding toast.”

“Front and center,” Lucas promises, his arm warm around my waist. “Right after we thank Gordon Junior for his innovative contribution to sustainable technology.”

The board members offer their congratulations, and even the chairwoman allows herself a rare genuine smile. “Perhaps we should postpone the remainder of the quarterly review,” she suggests. “Though, Ms. Hastings, the board has reviewed your written report and is unanimously impressed with your division’s performance.”

“Thank you,” I manage, still processing the transformation of my professional milestone into a personal one.

As our families and team celebrate around us, Lucas presses his forehead to mine, his expression more open than I’ve ever seen it. “Happy?”

“Perfect,” I whisper, overwhelmed by the rightness of this moment, of us. I glance down at the sparkling ring on my finger, then back at him. “Though you realize this means I get to color-code our entire wedding?”

“I’m counting on it.” His smile is soft and intimate despite our audience. “But first...”

Lucas reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out an envelope, handing it to me with a mysterious smile.

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